Hello everyone! Now, that I know that pinned post exists, lol, I thought this would be a perfect pinned post.
Most of you might not know this but, I actually have 4 pages:
@bodyswapmischief is my main page. It's where I post all of my stories. However I do believe that it's important to share the works of fellow writers. So, I do tend to have stores from other writes reblogged, for a limited amount time. So that the rest of you have time to see them.
@malereblogmischief is the second page. Any and every story, from other writers, I have ever reblogged gets archived here. So, that I'm still supporting my fellow writers.
@askmrmischief is my third page and this is where I take request, question, would you rathers, and possess/hypnotize/transforms. I want to use this side more for connecting with all of you.
Status: Not taking request!
(But, look back this might change in a day, week, or month, lol)
@men-for-mischief is my newest page and it's just a collection of guys I find really hot. And, potentially for some juicy stories.
Regarding my last post (The "thought I’d made a post saying that I am wanting to leave Tumblr" one), in the time I have been off Tumblr and other social media, I have still written a couple of stories. I have thought of keeping them to myself, but the few times I have opened Tumblr as of late I have seen a lot of related accounts either deactivate or delete all their posts. I thought it would be nice to post some of these stories so that there's more out there for people to read, and less written by AI too.
I have about 20 stories, and a few being rewrites of older ones. But after these posts it might be a while again for me to post more. I still won't be that active, and might not even post stories again, but I thought it would be nice to post more stores. They're going to be queues for two to post a day.
The full original pinned message;
Hey, thought I’d made a post saying that I am wanting to leave Tumblr, not because anything bad has happened to me on here but I am wanting to focus more on my self.
I’m going to post any stories left in my drafts that I didn’t post over the last couple of months and after that I most likely won’t post anymore stories or be active on other social medias. I have no plans to deactivate this account or delete any stories at the moment.
Stay safe, all!
(A story written for @cutlerfan for the annual story exchange)
Marcus never felt like he belonged in his body. He always hoped that one day it would grow to match the vision in his head. But, when puberty did little to change him, he gave up hope. He didn't know what he was thinking. It wasn’t like the men of his family were genetically gifted. Now, at 30 years old, he still looked like he was barely gonna turn 21. He wanted to be big, hairy, tall, muscular, masculine. He wanted to be a handsome beefy bear. But, he wasn’t. He was average in every way. Just a shadow on a wall ignored by anyone that he would be interested in.
He sighed, as he parked his car. He didn’t know why he always did this to himself, putting himself in situations that were just gonna make him feel worse. He read the sign: "The Grizzly Den." It was a bar he had pasted a number of times. And, every time he'd see all varieties of bears and cubs. Men with big bellies out on display. Guys with muscular beefy chest. Muscle bear daddies wearing leather. It was his heaven. And, tonight he worked up the courage to go.
Entering the doors of the bar his heart raced. He saw a man straight out of one of his lumberjack fantasies. A few cubs all over him. Another bear of a man walking around shirtless with a proud beer belly. Big strong men with all patterns of hair filled the bar. Men with more fat. Others with more muscle. But, all of them were a form of bear. Men lusting after each other. But, it was the lack of stares towards him that made it clear he didn’t belong. He did even try to push his way deeper into the building. Instead he hid himself at the corner seat of the bar. He watched the bartender work the other side of the table. He was cute. Probably younger than him with a small starter belly. A cub. He felt a bit jealous knowing one day that cub would soon become the type of man he wished he could be.
"First time here?" He heard a booming voice ask to his side. He quickly turned his attention to his side of the bar. He choked on his words as he saw the man talking to him. The man was the perfect image of what Marcus imagined when he thought of the word "bear" ... broad shoulders, a thick beard frosted with silver, arms like tree trunks covered in dark hair. His flannel stretched across a strong belly that presented a sense confidence and the enjoyment of life.
"Is it that obvious?" Marcus managed to finally say with a nervous smile.
"Well, only because I know all my regulars. The name is Nick, by the way." The bartender's eyes crinkled warmly. "So, what can I get you."
"Whatever you recommend." Marcus couldn't think, as his mind raced with a number of thoughts.
"Well, I guess it depends. Why are you here" Nick studied him for a moment but kept his warm inviting smile.
Marcus was thrown by the questions. But, there was something about the bartender. Something that made him feel safe and that one person would listen to him without criticism. "Well, because ... I want to belong here. I want to be like all of them." He looks over at a few guys he noticed walking in. "I feel like I should be like them. Like a mistake happened and I was put into this body instead. And, it is not from the lack of trying. And, in some crazy way I wished coming in here would make me feel like I was one of them. But, now ... I think it's clear I'm not. I just want to look into a mirror and see my outside match what I see when I close my eyes and see the true me." With each word he spoke more of the pain. It felt like he was vomiting all the emotions he's never felt comfortable telling anyone.
Nick reached his rough hand towards Marcus' hand and gave it a squeeze. "It’s okay. Just take a breath. I understand and I know just what you need." Nick reached for a few bottles. One of them glowed with a deep amber. "A special holiday drink. A family recipe. But, the most important ingredient is a wish."
"A wish?" Marcus chuckled, starting to feel a bit ashamed at all the feelings he vomited out.
"I know it's just December 12th but don't tell me you don't believe in Christmas Magic" Nick passed the glass right in front of Marcus.
Marcus wrapped his fingers around it. "Sure, I guess." He felt foolish but played along. He closed his eyes. "I wish I could be more like them. More bearish. More strong. Finally happy with myself." The drink tasted like cinnamon, pine, honey and something familiar he couldn't name. It warmed his body and felt like a hug to his soul.
The two men continued to talk throughout the night. Marcus asks Nick about his life as a daddy bear. Nick asks about Marcus' interest in bears. They talked about life in general. But, the time seemed to go by in a blur. Marcus saw the time and realized he stayed way later than he planned. He thanked Nick and began to leave.
"Happy Holidays, Marcus." Nick called out.
"You too." He replied forgetting that he never actually gave Nick his name.
On the first day of Christmas Marcus woke up starving. His stomach growled with a hunger that he had never experienced. He poured himself a bowl of cereal and the next thing he knew he went through the whole box. He found some cookies and chugged them down with the rest of the milk. He made eggs and pancakes. Throughout the day he kept snacking. For dinner he ate a family sized fried chicken meal. By the end of the day he was so full the food coma kicked in and he fell asleep on the couch.
He woke up on the second day of Christmas just as hungry. But, his kitchen was already empty from yesterday. He remembered his work's breakfast buffet and hurried to get ready. However his stomach was hard and bloated. His fitted work shirt didn't hide it. And, he was barely able to button his slacks. As he drove he couldn’t help but rub his stomach. It felt sore, like it was being stretched. But it felt empty at the same time. The buffet at work held him over. Then lunch was ordered for the office. Some people ate other food instead leaving spare food for Marcus to devour. Dinner was two extra large pizzas and a 2 liter bottle of soda.
Marcus felt like crap on the third day of Christmas. He walked to the restroom. Feeling a mix of stuffed yet hungry. But, that's when he noticed that with every step he felt a jiggle. He rubbed his stomach as he got closer to the restroom to get ready for the day. But instead of a hard bloated stomach, he felt softer squishier fat. He panicked because it didn't make sense. He kept playing with the fat. Poking and lifting his own starter belly hoping it was a hallucination. But, it didn't go away. His alarm went off showing he was already running late for work. He hurried to get dressed. The shirt was more strained than yesterday. The only way he could get the pants to button was to wear them lower than he was used to. Just below the curve of his new belly. The rest of the day passed. He couldn’t stop snacking at work. With the holidays around it seemed like there would be food everyday. Other people made no comments about his weight gain. But, he could feel himself getting fatter. On his way home his pants popped open as he went to sit in his car. His shirt buttons were more strained. But, his stomach cried for more. So he stopped for a couple burgers, shakes, and fries.
On the fourth day of Christmas, Marcus screamed as he woke up. "No! This can't be ... me!" He looked down at his body. He didn't just have a belly ... he had a gut. He had fatty breast. He struggled to get up but eventually was able to waddle to the restroom to look at himself. He was definitely fat. But, not in a way he wanted to be. His short hairless body teased him. "I wanted to be bigger but not like this." He called out sick and went to the doctors. But, his doctor treated him no differently. "Hmm ... seems like you just gained 5 lbs since the last time I saw you. So, there isn't anything to be concerned with." The doctor stated. Defeated, Marcus went back home. The only positive thing was it seemed like his hunger returned to normal.
Marcus made a plan to lose weight on the fifth day of Christmas. He decided to tell his job he couldn’t come back to work until after the holidays. He thought that should be enough time to undo some of the damage the past days brought. He wore the only things that fit him. A grey sweat shirt and matching sweat pants. He ordered a couple new items of clothing before he left to visit a local gym to sign up for the gym. He had never needed to join a gym before. He wasn’t ever fit but his body always stayed a bit thin. So walking in as a fat guy added to the intimidation. He picked up some weight and started doing some exercise. But, every machine he used he was surprised by how much weight he could do. "I guess ... I'm stronger than I thought." He smiled. He went home exhausted and sore, eventually crashing hard to sleep.
On the sixth day of Christmas, Marcus woke up with the pain of the previous day's gym session. He got himself out of bed and walked to the restroom expecting nothing different. But, looking at his reflection he was proven wrong. His fatty chest looked strong. He pressed on it and felt the muscle underneath. Even his arms showed some improvement. He wasn’t just pure fat ... there was already muscle where there wasn't before. Now, he didn’t care if it made sense or not. Feeling the firmness below the squishy fat made him happy. This body still wasn't ideal but it was getting better. He went back to the gym to work out hoping whatever magic this was continued to work.
Marcus woke up groggy on the seventh day of Christmas. His body seemed to sway more. He took a moment to feel right using his legs. He chalked it up to over doing it the past 2 days at the gym. But, the more he woke up the more he realized everything seemed off. His belly wasn't jiggling as much. And, everything seemed to have slightly shrunk. Again it didn't make sense until he saw his reflection. He grew. He was taller. No longer was he 5'7" he was easily over his old height standing at 6'4". The fat on his body seemed to shift and stretch. He wasn’t pure fat anymore. Now he was beefy. His chest more defined sat on a smaller but hard belly. His arms looked more powerful. He felt his cock get hard as he explored his new body. But, he still felt incomplete. He still hated his baby face. He still felt off. The day would pass and end. But, now Marcus was excited. He couldn’t wait to see the changes that he hoped tomorrow would bring.
And, the eighth day of Christmas did bring more changes. Marcus woke up uncomfortable. His body itched beyond belief. He feared he had a rash. But, as he lifted his blanket he saw his body full of tiny dark spots. Hair follicles that appear overnight. He ran to the restroom to get a better look. His thicker thighs and juicy ass thudding with power. The reflection was memorizing as he studied his body. The stubble that covered his body gave way to his own hair pattern that would develop throughout his body. He looked at his face and paid attention to the outline shape a beard would take. He ran fingers down his body feeling the stubble fantasizing how the pattern would fill in as it grew out. He was a bear ... or he would be one and soon. And, at that thought his mind jumped to Nick, the bar, and the drink. "Christmas Magic." He chuckled. He realized it was real. That night ... the drink. His wish was coming true. All these transformations were leading to ... the way he always envisioned himself. He needed to go find Nick and thank him. But, he smiled with an idea. He would wait until he was fully transformed and surprised Nick with his new look. Maybe even ask him to have some fun with his new body.
Marcus woke up with quick excitement on the 9th day of Christmas. He ripped the blankets off him. Partly to see the any new changes and partly because he felt hot and sweaty. And, he learned why. His body was covered in a forest of hair. He brought his hand to his face and felt a full beard. His arms looked stronger and manlier with the new amount of hair that filled them. A new musk hit his nose ... the sweat from overheating at night stuck to the hair of his body. It wasn’t unpleasant but it gave him a reason to take a shower and explore his body. He felt the water get trapped in his hairy body. He moaned as he felt his muscular chest. He got harder as he scrubbed his strong arms. Feeling the biceps swell with each movement. He loved the way his gut felt. Letting the warm soapy water run down his hairy juicy ass, thick thighs, and powerful legs. He grabbed his cock and began to jack off. A bit disappointed by how his size now seemed to small for his body at 5 inches. But, he didn't let that stop him from enjoying the moment. Stepping out of the shower though ... he realized something that still made him frustrated. His face. Even with the beard it was soft and boyish. It looked like his head was just plopped onto a bear's body. He let the day pass trying to forget that. Trying to just enjoy his new body.
Marcus' morning wood was intense on the 10th day of Christmas. The tent his cock was making was bigger than it ever had been. He reached his hand under the blanket already expecting what had happened. His cock was thicker and longer at 8 inches. He lowered the blanket to reveal a cock that actually loomed like it belonged on his body. He couldn’t even make it to the bathroom mirror with how horny he felt. He stayed in bed jacking off. His arms flexing with each pump. His chest was bouncing with muscle. His firm belly shaking. He stayed in bed for hours having fun with himself. Eventually going to take a shower and exploring his body even more.
The eleventh day was Christmas Eve. Marcus woke up and started his day. He looked at his body and nothing seemed different. His body was still bearish. But, his face showed a softness he didn't like. He wondered if this was it. Would he just have to wait to get older for his face to match his body. He walked downstairs to get something to eat. But, his table was filled with packages. Confused, he went to open them. They were full of clothes. Flannel shirts, a collection of pants, leather vest and straps, and everything he wished he could pull off just days ago. Clothes he thought would have looked silly on his original body. He spent the day trying everything on. Seeing what looked good together. In the mess he found a card. "I know it's a little early. But, I think you'll need a good outfit for tomorrow night." Signed Nick. Marcus smiled. The older man knew exactly what was going to happen to him that night. And, now tomorrow he will see him again. And, they'll talk and if he was lucky maybe even more. He spent the day getting ready for tomorrow. Learning to style his hair for his new body. Trimming his beard to look fresh. Deciding on his outfit.
Marcus' woke up on the 12th day of Christmas wishing it was already night so he could meet Nick at the bar. He got up to start the day. He jumped at his reflection. His face was different. It was aged. His body was tanned with age. And grey hair was sprinkled onto his body. He felt confused and unsure. "I'm older ..." he thought out loud. He worried what this might mean. Did he lose years of his life? But the more he stared. The more he felt right at home. The reflection finally matched the vision in his head. If age was a price he had to pay to finally be happy, he was happy to pay it.
As the sun began to set, Marcus took in his body as he began to get dressed. He put on a tight 2xl white shirt that highlighted his gut and strong chest. Followed by a better fitting 3xl red checkered flannel in case he got self conscious and wanted to button up. His pants showed off his thighs and ass. And, his bigger cock made a noticeable bulge. Finally with a breath to calm his nerves he slid on his size 13 shoes.
He drove to the only place we wanted to be. "The Grizzly Den." The bar was packed, but Marcus moved through the crowd like he'd always belonged. Men's eyes followed him, taking in his size, his presence, noticing the way his belly pushed against his shirt, the thickness of his arms through his rolled up sleeves, the beard that made him look mature and powerful. Several smiled. Some reached out to touch his arm as he passed, fingers brushing over the flannel covered mass of muscle and fat beneath. Marcus approached the bar, searching for Nick's familiar face. Instead, he only saw the same cub he noticed his first time here.
"What can I get you, daddy?" The young bear said with a flirtatious smile.
"Actually, I'm looking for Nick. The bartender who was working here a couple weeks ago? Silver beard, big guy?" Marcus blushed, not used to the straight forward interest the cub was showing in him.
The bartender's smile turned puzzled. "Nick? I'm sorry, man, but I've been the only bartender here for the past six months. Owner is cheap and doesn't like hiring extra help even during the holidays "
Marcus felt his stomach drop. "No, that's not possible. I was here on December 12th. There was definitely a bartender named Nick. Older guy, made me this special drink"
"I was definitely the only one here." The bartender shook his head. "And I'm certain there's never been anyone named Nick on staff. Not since I started here, anyways."
Marcus opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. The bartender's expression was genuinely confused, not defensive or secretive. He really didn't know what Marcus was talking about. "That's... weird," Marcus said slowly. Wondering what was going on.
The bartender shrugged sympathetically. "Maybe you're thinking of a different bar?" His eyes traveled over Marcus's substantial frame with some lust. "But, like I said ... I'm willing to give you whatever you need."
Before Marcus could respond, he felt a hand on his lower back. He turned to find a man standing close enough that Marcus could smell his woodsy masculine scent.
The man was exactly Marcus' height, built like a tank with a chest that strained against a tight white muscle shirt. He was a muscle bear. His arms were massive, and covered in tattoos. A scruffy beard framed a handsome face. Dark brown hair that took in the color of the Christmas light above. But it was his warm brown eyes that caught Marcus' attention, crinkled at the corners with a smile. The man looked a few years younger than his own new age.
"Hey," the man said with a deep and smooth voice. "I'm Derek. And I've been watching you since you walked in."
Marcus felt heat flood his face. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Derek's hand was still on his back. His thumb rubbed small circles that sent electricity through Marcus's spine. "You're new to the scene, aren't you? I can always tell. There's this... I don't know, this energy. Like you're still figuring out how good you look."
"I'm..." Marcus blushed. "I guess you can say that." He was here. He fit in. He was being hit on. But, still he felt like an actor playing a role. "I guess I'm still just getting used to this body.
"Let me guess. Ex jock? Pretty boy in your 2Os? Was off the dating scene for a decade? And now you're jumping back in. But, now with this body that aged into a fine ass man. It's okay to show off more." He opened up Marcus' flannel a bit more. "You aren't a young boy anymore. It's expected to have some meat on your body. Besides you wear it well." Derek's eyes traveled appreciatively over Marcus's body, lingering on his belly, his chest, and his strong shoulders. "Really well, actually. Can I buy you a drink?"
Marcus wanted to correct Derek's assumptions. But, Derek's words still held some truth. He had always wanted this body. But, now with all the attention, he did feel a little self conscious. Besides, the truth would be even more crazy. He paused at the offer. He thought about Nick, about the impossible bartender who apparently didn't exist. But, he looked at Derek. Solid, real and looking at him like he was the only person in the bar worth seeing. "Yeah," Marcus said. "I'd like that."
They found a corner booth, Derek's thick thigh pressing against Marcus's under the table. The two talked for hours, about everything and nothing. Derek was a contractor, built houses with his hands, loved hiking, cooking, and old movies. He was thirty 38 compared to Marcus' 44. Derek been out since college, and had the kind of confidence that came from knowing exactly who he was. Which added to Marcus' feeling odd being the older man of the two of them.
Marcus started sharing his life. Unsure how to say it without making it sound like he was a decade younger just a little more than a week ago. But, before he could speak, memories flooded his mind. Memories of a life different from his own. He was a jock in high-school and college. He married a woman in his late 20's. And, just accepted he was gay a few years ago. Told his wife last year and they divorced so he could live his truth. And, he remembered feeling a little scared to jump into dating again.
"I've never seen someone so comfortable in their own skin," Marcus admitted, three drinks in and feeling warm.
Derek laughed rich and genuine. "It took me years to get here, trust me. You're starting later, sure. But, there is really no need to worry. You fit in perfectly just by being yourself."
A drunken cub walks by. "Oh fuck me daddy, I love your big belly." He grabs Marcus' belly and giggles as he stumbles away. Marcus ran his hand over his belly now blushing with embarrassment. He began to suck in his gut a little.
Derek caught his wrist. "Don't," Derek said firmly. "Don't hide yourself. You're gorgeous. Every inch of you. It was a bit much but he was giving you a compliment. I like your belly too" He got up to sit next to him. His strong hands rubbing Marcus' belly.
Marcus relaxed, closing his eyes and letting his belly take up space again. They continued talking, as more thirsty cubs floated to and from their table. A few stopped by, complimenting Marcus's beard, his size, asking if they could buy him drinks. Marcus became more confident with each thirsty comment. Giving his own flirty comebacks. Though he knew Derek was the only guy here he actually wanted. After the 10th time it became a bit annoying, as their conversation was being interrupted.
Derek picked up on it. So, he slid his arm around Marcus' shoulders, possessive and proud, and the cubs would smile knowingly and drift away.
"Popular tonight," Derek murmured in his ear with amusement.
"It's weird," Marcus admitted. "Two weeks ago, nobody looked at me twice."
"Their loss." Derek's hand splayed across Marcus's belly through his flannel, and Marcus felt his breath catch. "My gain, though." Derek said, turning Marcus' face in for a kiss.
When the bar started closing down, Derek walked Marcus to his car. The snow was falling thick and soft, dusting Derek's hair. "I know you are new to this. But, I do really like you. I'd understand if you said no. But, do you want to come to my place tonight. " Derek said, standing close enough that Marcus could feel his warmth. "If you're interested."
Marcus felt himself get hard. The man of his dreams ... the moment of his dreams playing in real time. "Very interested," Marcus managed.
Derek smiled and pulled him into a kiss that tasted like whiskey and promise. When they broke apart, Derek pressed his forehead against Marcus' "Merry Christmas, handsome."
"Merry Christmas." Marcus gulped in the memory of the kiss.
"Give me your number. I'll text you the address. But, also just follow my car." He looks into Marcus eyes and smiles before walking away.
Marcus drove in a daze, Derek's number in his phone and the taste of him still on his lips. He arrived at Derek's home. Following him to his door. Derek walks in and before he can follow he hears the sound of bells. And, in the distance a hearty familiar voice. "Ho, Ho, ho!"
"Nick!" He looked up to the sky in that moment realizing everything and connecting the pieces. He couldn't spot anything in the sky. But, he smiled and walked through Derek's door ready for the things to come. Ready for his time with Derek. Whether it's just for tonight but but hoping for more.
The family Secret Santa drawing always happened the same way. Christmas plates stacked in the sink, wrapping paper shoved into bags, pine needles ground into the carpet. Someone passed around a red velvet sack filled with folded slips of paper, and everyone pretended this was a brand-new tradition instead of something they’d been doing for years.
Mark reached in, unfolded his slip, and felt his stomach drop.
Evan.
Across the room, his younger brother looked up, offering a quick, polite smile before glancing away again.
“Nineteen years old,” Mark muttered later that night, staring at the slip of paper on his dresser. “First year of college. And impossible to shop for.”
Evan never asked for anything real. Gift cards. Books. Things that took up space but revealed nothing. Mark leaned back on the bed, arms folded behind his head, listening to the old house creak. He loved his brother. Always had. But loving Evan didn’t mean understanding him. There was something locked behind his eyes, something careful and coiled tight, and Mark hated not knowing how to help.
“I just wish I knew what you actually wanted,” he said aloud, more frustrated than he meant to be. “If I knew, I’d get it for you. No question.”
The words lingered strangely in the air, heavier than a casual complaint should have been, and sleep came fast.
⸻
Mark woke up already knowing something was wrong. The ceiling was too low. The room smelled unfamiliar—cleaner, sharper. Somewhere nearby, a door slammed, followed by laughter that didn’t belong in his parents’ quiet house. He sat up—and stopped.
His body felt different. Lighter. Narrower. His hands, resting on his lap, weren’t his hands at all. Mark stumbled to the mirror mounted over a cluttered desk, heart pounding hard enough to make him dizzy.
His younger brother stared back at him.
Same dark eyes. Same face that still hadn’t quite finished growing into itself. Same cautious expression that had always made Mark want to put a hand on Evan’s shoulder and tell him everything would be fine.
A memory flashed behind his eyes that wasn’t his.
Standing in front of a classroom lectern. A professor with silver hair and wire-rim glasses smiling faintly as he adjusted his scarf.
Professor Bishop.
The man’s voice echoed oddly, layered over Mark’s thoughts.
“Be careful what you ask for, Mark,” he’d said mildly. “Understanding is rarely simple.”
Mark staggered back, breath sharp, as the impossible memory vanished as suddenly as it had come.
His pulse thundered. His skin prickled. And beneath it all—something else. A tightness. A constant, low hum of unease. Not panic exactly, but… vigilance? Like standing in a room full of strangers, always aware of yourself, of how you looked, how you sounded, how you were. This wasn’t just a body - it was a mindset.
Mark swallowed. His chest felt crowded with feelings that weren’t his own. Somewhere far away, his original body was moving through the world, unaware that anything had changed.
And Evan—
Mark didn’t hear a voice. Didn’t feel words. But the nervous energy never let up.
————————————————
The first week was survival.
Mark learned quickly that confidence didn’t transfer with the body. Every instinct he had—to take up space, to speak first, to joke easily—ran straight into resistance. His throat tightened when he raised his hand in class. His heart kicked hard when someone laughed nearby, even when it wasn’t directed at him.
He understood, then, how Evan had lived. Always filtering himself. Always double-checking.
Then there were the memories. They came in flashes, uninvited and vivid. A late-night study session where Mark—Evan—hadn’t been able to focus because Lucas kept pushing his hair back from his eyes. A phone held inches from his face, a message typed and erased half a dozen times.
You should ask him.
Don’t.
He’ll think you’re weird.
Mark would stop whatever he was doing, breath catching, as the weight of it pressed down on him. Evan had been carrying this alone. The realization settled slowly, heavily. Mark wasn’t here by accident.
The truth became impossible to ignore.
Evan wanted three things. Not consciously, not boldly—but desperately, and the first was the heaviest.
————————————————
Going home that weekend felt like walking toward a cliff. Mark’s palms sweated the entire drive. Evan’s body reacted automatically—shoulders tight, jaw clenched. Every mile closer to home made the pressure in his chest worse.
At the dinner table, conversation flowed easily around him. Mark recognized the moment from memory: the clink of forks, the warmth of the lights, the sense of standing on the edge of something irreversible.
He felt Evan’s instinctive fear spike. Mark took a breath that felt too shallow.
“Mom,” he said. His voice sounded smaller than he expected. “Dad. There’s something I need to tell you.”
Silence fell. The moment stretched until Mark thought he might choke on it.
“I’m gay.”
The words landed gently. Almost anticlimactically.
His mom’s face softened immediately. She reached for his hand without hesitation.
“Oh, honey,” she said quietly. “We love you.”
His dad nodded, expression steady. “We know. Always have.”
No shock. No anger. Just relief. Mark’s chest burned, a sharp ache blooming where fear had lived for so long. Later that night, lying in his childhood bedroom, Mark stared at the ceiling, feeling something inside finally loosen. Evan’s presence—the constant tension—eased, just a little.
————————————————
The second thing Evan wanted was hard too, just in a different way.
Lucas wasn’t just a crush. He was kindness without pressure. Attention without expectation. Someone who listened. Mark felt it every time Lucas smiled at him—an involuntary warmth, immediate and intense. And of course the memories made it impossible to pretend this was casual.
Mark waited too long. Hesitated too often. Evan’s instincts whispered caution at every turn. Until one evening, as they lingered after a study session, Mark realized he was standing at the same crossroads Evan had faced dozens of times before. The fear surged, and Mark nearly let it win.
“Lucas…” he said, before he could stop himself. His heart hammered hard enough to make his ears ring. “Do you— would you maybe want to get coffee sometime? Like… just us...”
Lucas looked surprised. Then he smiled.
“I’d really like that,” he said.
The relief was dizzying. Overwhelming. And threaded through it was something Mark hadn’t expected. Joy that felt… personal.
————————————————
The third change crept up on him. It started with movement. Morning runs to burn off nervous energy. Gym visits that felt awkward at first, then routine. Evan’s body responded slowly, but it responded. Strength built. Endurance followed. Mark learned what this body could do instead of what it wasn’t.
And Lucas noticed.
“You seem different lately,” he said one afternoon, handing Mark a towel. “More… here, if that makes sense…?”
Mark smiled, pulse skipping. He was here. Too much, maybe. That realization hit him one night, lying awake in Evan’s dorm bed.
He wasn’t just doing this for his brother anymore. He liked the quiet focus. The deliberate growth. The way every small victory felt earned.
And Lucas…
Mark’s chest tightened painfully. He didn’t want to leave this. The nervous hum inside him shifted, no longer fear, but something closer to anticipation. Hope. By the time break approached, Mark understood the truth.
Evan hadn’t just wanted these things. He’d wanted to be this person.
The morning it ended came without drama. Mark woke with a strange sense of stillness, as if the air itself were holding its breath. He stood in front of the mirror one last time, taking in Evan’s face. Not as something borrowed, but as something lived in. He felt the choice settle into place, quiet and absolute.
And with that, a shift happened gently. No flash. No pain. Just a release.
Mark opened his eyes to find himself standing taller again. Older. Familiar weight in his limbs. Across the room, Evan stood frozen, blinking like someone waking from a long dream. They stared at each other. Evan’s posture was different. Straighter. His eyes steadier.
Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all! Whether you're celebrating Christmas like me or just enjoying a day off (better be getting extra pay if you're working!) I hope you're all having a good time.
Thought I'd do a little end of year check in.
Had a bit of an extended absence earlier this year with work being busy recently (and a fair few videogame releases this year that've distracted me from writing admittedly) but going to be getting back into it with a mix of stories and captions as usual. May do another interactive story too if people are interested in that, be sure to check my pinned post for that.
Plenty of ideas on the way though so ready assured there's still some very interesting scenarios I'll be exploring stories of. If there are any writers interested in collaborating it's been a while since I've done any so do reach out!
~~
And well, if you've been good enough maybe a few of you have woken up in your dream bodies as a gift from Santa!
Me, well it seems I hit pretty lucky personally, must have been good for Santa to gift me the body of my favourite tiktok/onlyfans star Jake Andrich. I did have a new tattoo penciled in over the Christmas period, but I think Santa heard me and took that one step further... Not that I'm complaining.
Being a whole ocean away from people I intended to see sure isn't convenient, but I think this body is gift enough don't you all? Without going too into personal details I've had quite the enjoyable morning exploring this body; I think you can all probably guess what I spent my Christmas morning doing in it.
And now, well I've been relaxing and getting in the Christmas spirit. And yes, I've been doing that in just a jockstrap and Christmas hat, it'd be a crime to cover a body this gorgeous up.
And since I'm in the giving mood, why don't you all get in touch? Got questions for Jake and how I'm spending my time settling into being him then do get in touch and I'll be sure to answer your questions and share a few more selfies 😉. I'll be spending a good while in this body going forward, so get used to seeing me around! And who knows, for those that have been extra good maybe I'll share some gifts of my own?
Hey, there I'd love to get together again. Probably been a minute. But, woke up in this body I've been lusting after. I know it's a little early but popped some champagne to celebrate the new year. Should we get a party going? I got plenty to share.
Why am I getting naked to join a group of college guys in a lake? It's a long story but, I'll try to make it short.
I was the same age as those guys, a few days ago. You see, I broke up with my girlfriend, after she started bitching about how I choose my friends over her, all the time. It was the last boys trip before we graduated college. So, of course I was gonna pick the boys. Besides I was young ... she was just one chick in a long list of more to come.
But, I didn't know that she was a witch. She aged me into my 40's as punishment for wasting her college years. I convinced the guys ... I was still me. They made their jokes and I told them how I was bummed I couldn't go on the trip, now. But, after some talking it was decided that I should still go.
But, it was a mistake. Everywhere we went, I kept getting mistaken as one of thier dads. At one point they stop calling me by ny name ... and just kept referring to me as dad. I was, also, becoming aware of how old my body felt trying to keep up with college aged boys. The last straw was when they said daddy will pay ... as they left me with the check for dinner. I was pissed. But, they kept saying not to worry ... they'll pay "daddy" back. They even convinced me to go on a quick hike, even though I just wanted to go back to the hotel and rest.
Turns out they were bringing me to this secluded lake, where they started getting naked. They started getting handsy with me and, I realized the way they been calling me "daddy" wasn't a joke. They got in the water, begging me to let them repay me for dinner. They wanted daddy's cock. At first, I was in disbelief about how they were acting. But, I was getting so hard ... watching them ... naked ... in the water. I just know this was also an affect caused by my ex. Now tho ... I could only focus on fucking and getting sucked by them. My boys need daddy's help, after all ... not like I can say no to my boys.
- We'll I find it completely amusing. How'd you complain about my smell, me always working out ... YOU not wanting to have sex ... CAUSE you're to tried from sitting infront of computer all day.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah. I fucking stink ... I'm around the most bro-y dudes all day. I get it ... I had it easy staying at home with AC ... the TV on and just typing away. You had it worse than me ... and I get it, now. Charles sighs as he chugs the bottle of coke and scarfs down the lunch that his boyfriend brought him. It's been a few days since they swapped. And, this was Charles first day working his boyfriends construction job. There was only so many days he was able call out sick.
- But, I don't have it so good ... in your body. I am lonely ... working from home. I can't wait for you to come home ... and I can show what my body likes to do to unwind. And, do the things ... you never seem to wanna do. Tyler said trying to make Charles feel better
-Well ... that might take a bit .. cause I'm going to the gym afterwards. After today, I just need to take some aggression out.
-What?! You always hated that I'd go the gym after work. Tyler smirks with amusement at the role reversal.
- Yeah, well maybe I'm seeing why you do the things you do. This body ... I don't know ... just feels like I need to constantly be lifting things ... work ... gym .. I'm can't even remember how to program... We need to really find a way to swap back.
- Well between your work, meetings ... and being the prefect husband ... like cooking, which you never did for me ... I'm trying to look for a way ... but, still nothing. Thanks for keeping up my work and body, tho. But, just don't worry ... you just focus on keeping up my body and dinner will be ready when you get home.
- It better fucking be. I'm gonna be starving after this. And, you better be ready, cause I might need to lift you on to my cock afterwards ... god this body has too much testosterone for me to function normally.
- Welcome to my normal! Tyler grins as he gives Charles a kiss before leaving back home. Knowing this swap was no accident. Now, Tyler could show Charles how a proper sub should act for thier manly dom.
I have lost the spark of writing longer stories. But, my head is still filled with ideas. I am rebranding my @askmrmischief blog to be caption and AI focused. Pictures that sparked a quick scene in my head ... and ai videos that I want to make. My current interest in something I'm calling the Second Life Initiative
So if this interest you ... or you want quick captions from me in the future ... stay tuned at @askmrmischief
The Height of Holiday Magic: A Very Meyers Christmas
@thegreatstoryteller , it's my time to return the favor. Another annual body swap and another story I hope you enjoy!
Henry gripped the steering wheel tightly as the snow-covered road stretched endlessly ahead. The rhythmic hum of the car's engine was soothing, a stark contrast to the churning thoughts in his head. He was glad to be heading home after months of college. Winter break meant cozy evenings, his mom’s famous hot cocoa, and the familiar scent of pine and firewood filling the house.
But beneath the excitement, there was a nagging weight pressing on his chest. It always surfaced when he thought of his dad. Locke was everything Henry wasn’t. Compared to Henry’s 5’6" thin and frail frame. Locke was 6'4 and strong, with a natural confidence that drew people to him. Growing up, Henry had idolized his father. But as years passed, admiration turned into something more complicated.
He glanced at his hands on the wheel. Dainty hands that were connected to an equally soft body. “Why couldn’t I have gotten his genes instead of Mom’s?” he sighed, his voice filled with quiet frustration. The thought made him clench his jaw. His mother, kind and petite, had passed down her smaller frame to him. He was constantly reminded of it every time he literally looked up at his father. “What’s wrong with me?” he whispered.
Outside, the snowflakes danced in the wind, oblivious to the turmoil in the car. Henry pulled into the driveway, the tires crunching softly over the fresh layer of snow. The sight of the house, its windows glowing warmly against the winter night, brought a flicker of comfort. He parked the car and sat for a moment, staring at the front door. Inside were his parents, eager to see him. His mother’s hugs always felt like safety, but his father…
He grabbed his duffel bag, stepped out into the icy air, and made his way to the door. Before he could knock, it swung open, and his mother’s beaming face greeted him. “Henry!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. Her petite frame barely came up to his chest, but her embrace was as strong as ever. “Hi, Mom,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “Come in, come in. You’ll freeze out here!” she said, ushering him inside.
The familiar warmth of home wrapped around him, the scent of baked goods and pine filling his senses. Locke appeared in the hallway, his imposing frame nearly filling the doorway. “There’s my boy,” Locke said with a grin, his voice deep and hearty. He clapped a hand on Henry’s shoulder, and though the gesture was light, it felt like a small reminder of the difference in their builds. “Hey, Dad,” Henry replied, forcing his smile to stay in place.
They settled into the living room, Henry sinking into the couch while his parents took their usual spots. His mother peppered him with questions about school, friends, and the drive home, her voice warm and comforting. Locke chimed in occasionally, asking about his grades and plans for the future.
“Now that I'm settled in college, I was thinking of joining the gym and maybe a sports club..” Henry rushly added. Locke looked at his son and sighed, “Henry you do know I'm proud of you. You’re a smart guy. You should stick to that. The whole academic route.” Those words stung Henry. Even though Locke meant then to praise his son's natural talent in academia, all Henry could hear was that his dad would never be proud of him.
“I got a 3.8 GPA this semester,” Henry said, trying to sound proud. “That’s great, son,” Locke said sincerely, nodding. “You’ve been working hard.” But even as Locke’s words carried genuine pride, Henry couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. There was a gap between them, one he didn’t know how to bridge. As a boy, Henry could recall his dad, hoping he would grow up to be a jock. But, no matter what, Henry showed an ineptitude for anything athletic. Puberty was the final nail on the coffin. He wanted to impress his dad, but it was like the universe made that dream impossible.
Henry’s mother sensed the shift in his mood and quickly changed the subject to holiday plans, but the damage was done. Henry felt himself withdrawing, sinking deeper into the couch. Locke watched his son quietly. He didn’t push further, in fear of making things worse. The conversation with his parents wound down, and Henry excused himself to head upstairs. The long drive had left him drained, and unpacking his things was enough to keep his mind occupied, at least for a while. Yet, as he folded clothes and placed books on the desk in his childhood bedroom, his thoughts lingered on the quiet tension he always felt when it came to his dad.
After unpacking, Henry hadn’t realized how much time had passed. The muffled sound of voices and laughter drifted up from downstairs. Curious, he walked quietly to the staircase. His dad’s friends had come over, as they often did for their usual drink nights. Peeking, as he sat on the top step, Henry saw his dad seated in the living room with three other men. They spoke loud, half-empty beers in hand, their banter filled with the easy familiarity of lifelong friendships.
“Ah, it’s good to have the kids back, huh?” one of the men said, grinning. “Yeah,” another chimed in. “All our boys are home. You know what we should do? Get them together for some basketball. Just like the old days.” The group erupted in laughter, but then one of them nudged Locke. “Well, except for your kid, Locke. Henry’s not exactly varsity material, is he?” The words were a gut punch, but Henry stayed frozen in place, listening.
“Remember that one time we tried to play three-on-three, and Henry tripped over his own feet?” Another added with a chuckle. “Poor kid.” Henry’s chest tightened as the laughter rang out. He felt rooted to the spot, caught between anger and humiliation. Locke held up a hand, his laughter fading. “Hey,” he said firmly, his tone quiet but resolute. “My son might not be a jock, but he’s smart. Real smart. And that means more to me than any game ever could.”
The room fell silent for a moment, the men shifting awkwardly in their seats. Locke’s expression was unreadable, but there was a hint of frustration in his eyes. Henry swallowed hard and retreated quietly to his room. His father’s words should have been comforting, but all he could focus on was the hurt in Locke’s face when he said them.
Henry sat on the edge of his bed, his mind replaying the scene downstairs. The laughter, the casual mockery, and even his father’s defense of him. It all twisted inside him. He stared at his reflection in the small mirror on his wall. His scrawny frame mocked him as much as the voices of his dad’s friends. He clenched his fists, frustration boiling over. “Why can’t I just be different?” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “Why can’t I make him proud?”
The thought bubbled up before he could stop it, slipping from his lips like a whispered prayer. “I wish I had the kind of body that would make anyone proud… the kind of body Dad could brag about.” For a moment, nothing happened. The room was quiet except for the faint sound of the wind outside. Henry sighed, shaking his head at his own foolishness. In a sense of a familiar defeat, he went to sleep off his frustration. But the night would not play out like so many times before. The air in the room seemed to shimmer faintly as though responding to his words. A gift from an unseen force was being gifted.
Henry woke with a stiff haze.. As he moved, he noticed an unfamiliar sensation of weight and strength in his limbs. The bed beneath him felt larger, firmer than he was used to, and the light streaming through the window hit walls he didn’t recognize. Confused, he sat up, his movements sluggish as though his body didn’t quite respond the way it should. He blinked, taking in his surroundings. He seemed to be in a hotel room and a nice one at that.
“What…?” he muttered, his voice deeper, resonating in his chest. A startle that made him grab his own throat. His hands felt strong, and his throat was thicker. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and as his feet hit the floor, sooner then they should. He realized they were larger, much larger. His hands, too, were broad and calloused, veins prominent across their surface.
Heart pounding, he stumbled to the full-length mirror across the room. What stared back at him wasn’t his reflection. Instead, a towering, shirtless, muscular figure filled the 7’1" frame. Short blond hair, piercing eyes, and a physique that radiated athleticism, it was the body of Meyers Leonard, the professional basketball player. Henry’s breath caught in his throat as he raised his hands, watching the reflection do the same. He flexed experimentally, the muscles in his arms rippling with ease.
“This… this can’t be real,” he whispered, his voice still unfamiliar. Henry took a step back from the mirror, still reeling from the sight of his reflection. His hands trembled as he pressed them against his chest, feeling the solid wall of muscle beneath his fingertips. His pecs, broad and defined, moved subtly with even the smallest shift in his posture. He trailed his hands down to his abdomen, marveling at the ridged firmness of his abs.
“Holy…,” he breathed, unable to finish the sentence. He flexed his biceps experimentally, watching them swell. His fingers traced the veins that ran like rivers across his forearms, his skin taut over powerful muscles. The height was another shock. He turned and walked to the door, each step heavy yet controlled. The ceiling felt closer, the furniture smaller. His perspective on the world had shifted dramatically.
Standing near the bed, he glanced down at his legs. They were tree trunks of muscle, powerful and sturdy. The sheer size of them was astonishing. He bent down to touch his calves before sitting back on the edge of the bed. He leaned forward, pulling one foot onto his knee. His jaw dropped.
“Look at these things,” he muttered, holding his foot up for inspection. The size dwarfed anything he’d ever imagined. His feet were massive, the kind that filled shoes designed for giants. He set his foot down and spread his legs, resting his hands on his knees. His thighs were so large, making the usual posture of sitting feel entirely different.
Henry’s heart raced as he tried to process it all. This body wasn’t just strong; it was a machine engineered for athleticism. He could feel the power in every movement, the effortless grace and control that came with it. “This is insane,” he whispered.
Henry’s startled reflection still stared back at him when his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He turned to grab it, fumbling slightly with the device in his massive hands.
The screen lit up with a message:
Coach Johnson: Don’t be late. Practice starts at 11. Big game tonight. Let’s show them what you’re made of.
His stomach dropped. A game? Tonight? “Oh, no,” he muttered, pacing the room. “I can barely dribble a ball, let alone play in a professional game!” Panic surged through him as the implications hit. If this was really Meyers Leonard’s life, any misstep could cost him his career. Henry felt the weight of the responsibility pressing down on him. But, he couldn’t just stay in the room and do nothing. “Okay, okay. Start small,” he told himself, trying to calm his racing thoughts. “Shower. Get cleaned up. Maybe I’ll figure out what to do after that.”
He made his way to the lavish hotel bathroom. The shower was enormous, with a rainfall showerhead and plenty of room for someone of Meyers’ stature. A shower that would have dwarfed his original body. As the warm water cascaded over him, washing away his anxiety bit by bit, something strange began to happen. Echos of familiarity crept into his mind. With eyes closed, he reached for the soap instinctively. It was as if he had already known the layout of the shower from a previous use. “Wait.” He questioned. His tested this feeling. His mind was thinking of what he'd wear when he got out. To his surprise, memories of clothes he packed entered his mind.
Stepping out of the shower and drying himself, Henry felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could figure this out. He dressed quickly, slipping into a classic white T-shirt and black dock shorts that felt strange yet familiar. He couldn’t help but feel pleased at how perfect the fit was. Each piece fitted perfectly, tailored to accommodate Meyers’ broad shoulders and long limbs. Without thought, he found the keys to Meyers’ car on the dresser.
“This is all mine now,” he murmured, glancing at a mirror before heading out.It was all part of Meyers Leonard’s life, and now, somehow, his. He headed to the parking structure, his jaw dropping at the sight of the car parked where his memories told him he parked. A sleek, luxury SUV gleamed under the overhead lights, its chrome accents catching his eye. “Wow,” Henry whispered, running a hand over the smooth surface before climbing in. The interior was just as impressive; leather seats, advanced tech displays, and a faint scent of cologne mixed with the smell of the new car.
As he adjusted the seat, he realized he couldn’t quite make himself comfortable. “Man, even this is a tight fit,” he muttered, shifting awkwardly to accommodate his long legs and broader shoulders. The steering wheel felt smaller in his hands, and he had to angle his knees just right to fit under the dash. Despite the snug space, the car started smoothly, its engine purring with power. As Henry pulled out of the garage, a sense of familiarity settled over him again. He hadn’t seen the practice facility before, yet he knew exactly where to go.
He navigated the streets with ease, as though the route had been etched into his memory. The city around him felt both foreign and strangely recognizable, adding to the surrealness of the situation. “This is insane,” he said aloud, the deep resonance of Meyers’ voice still catching him off guard. By the time he pulled into the facility’s parking lot, Henry’s nerves were back. The sprawling building loomed ahead, and he knew he was about to face something completely out of his depth.
Henry stepped out of the car, his nerves flaring as he saw a group of tall, athletic men gathered near the entrance. His coach and teammates were already there, chatting and stretching, their voices echoing in the cool morning air. One of them glanced his way. “About time, Leonard,” the man called out, grinning. Henry raised a hand awkwardly in response, forcing a casual smile. His heart pounded in his chest as he hurried inside. He had no idea what these people expected from him. He barely knew how to hold a basketball, let alone keep up with professionals.
Inside the locker room, he found his assigned locker. His practice clothes were neatly folded, waiting for him. Henry fumbled a bit, pulling on the oversized jersey and shorts that fit his massive frame perfectly. The shoes were enormous, yet they slid on with ease, feeling like an extension of his body. “Alright, here goes nothing,” he muttered, stepping out of the locker room. The gym was massive, the polished floor gleaming under the bright lights. The other players were already warming up, dribbling, shooting, and passing with an ease that made Henry’s stomach churn. He grabbed a ball from the rack and hesitated.
As he dribbled experimentally, something happened. His hands moved instinctively, controlling the ball with precision. His feet adjusted to the rhythm, and his body shifted effortlessly into a stance that felt natural, even though it shouldn’t have been. “Leonard! Let’s go!” Coach Johnson barked, motioning for him to join a drill. Henry jogged onto the court, his steps fluid and confident despite his nerves. The drill started, and he found himself weaving through cones, making passes, and sinking shots with astonishing accuracy.
His body moved on its own, each motion guided by muscle memory. He was faster, stronger, and more coordinated than he had ever imagined. As the practice continued, he found himself keeping and more. He was a part of the team. He executed plays with ease, his passes crisp and precise, his shots smooth. Henry grinned, breathing hard but exhilarated. The sheer athleticism of this body, the power and control. It was intoxicating. For the first time, he felt like he belonged.
Practice wrapped up with a final whistle, and Henry found himself drenched in sweat but riding a wave of confidence he hadn’t felt in years. He began to shower and change back into his clothes. And, for a moment, he forgot the strangeness of his situation. He wasn’t Henry anymore. He was Meyers Leonard, an athlete at the top of his game.
“Yo, Leonard!” one of the players called, slapping him on the back. “We’re hitting up Joey’s for lunch. You in?” Henry hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded. “Yeah, sure!” he said, trying to sound as casual as possible. The group headed out to a local sports bar, laughing and joking as they piled into their cars. Henry followed. Noting how natural he belong with these other tall men. These were the kind of guys who would’ve made him feel invisible back in his old life. Now, he was one of them.
At the bar, they claimed a large booth, ordering burgers, wings, and beers. Henry found himself laughing along with their stories, his deep voice blending seamlessly into the conversation. “Man, I hate these December games,” one of the guys grumbled, shaking his head. “Working this close to Christmas sucks.”
“Tell me about it,” another chimed in. “At least we get a couple of days off after tonight. You heading home for the holiday, Leonard?” Henry froze for a split second, his heart skipping a beat. “Uh, yeah,” he said, keeping his tone even. “I’ve got a flight tomorrow morning. Gonna rush back to see the family.” The table nodded in approval, and someone added, “Good for you, man. Your wife must be thrilled. And the kid, how are they doing?”
Henry forced a smile, feeling a bead of sweat form on his temple. He hadn’t even thought about Meyers’ family until now. “Oh, uh… they’re great,” he said, scrambling internally for details. “Really looking forward to seeing them.” Thankfully, the conversation moved on quickly, and Henry relaxed. As they joked and shared stories, flashes of Meyers’ life surfaced in his mind again. He remembered a ticket confirmation, Meyers had indeed booked a flight home for tomorrow.
Henry left the bar with his teammates, his laughter and easy banter masking the swirl of emotions within him. The day had been a whirlwind of experiences, and as the game approached, he felt a mix of excitement and nerves. Back at the arena, Henry threw himself into Meyers’ pregame routine. He followed the warm-up drills with precision, leaned into the stretches, and even mirrored some of his teammates’ rituals. The muscle memory guided him effortlessly, and yet, a part of him couldn’t shake how surreal it all felt.
As he sat in the locker room before the game, Henry took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. The energy around him was electric, teammates hyping each other up, coaches delivering final strategies, and the hum of the crowd just outside. But for Henry, the moment felt still. He pulled out Meyers’ phone, thumbing through the gallery. Photos of Meyers’ wife, her warm smile lighting up the frame. Pictures of a baby boy followed.
“This is my life now,” Henry whispered to himself, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe the sheer luck that had fallen on him. A loving family, a thriving career, a body built for greatness. But then, his thoughts turned to his own family. His real family. The ones who wouldn’t recognize him now, who had no idea what had happened to him. Did he still exist to them? Was the real Meyers in his body. The idea made his stomach churn. Was Meyers experiencing the same confusion and disorientation that Henry had? Dealing with the insecurities and struggles Henry had left behind?
Henry shook his head, trying to focus. “One step at a time,” he muttered, gripping the phone tightly. He needed to get through the game tonight. Everything else would have to wait. The roar of the crowd was deafening as Henry stepped onto the court. The bright lights, the energy in the air, it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. His nerves had melted away the moment the game began, replaced by a rush of adrenaline and focus. He moved with the flow of the game, his body responding instinctively. Every pass, every jump, every sprint felt natural, like he’d been doing this his entire life, at least, Meyers had.
The game was intense, a back-and-forth battle that kept everyone on edge. Henry found himself thriving in the competition, feeding off the energy of his teammates and the crowd. He loved the camaraderie, the unspoken communication on the court, the shared goal of victory. “Leonard!” a teammate shouted, and Henry snapped to attention, catching a pass and immediately spotting an opening. Without hesitation, he made a crisp, perfectly timed pass to the team’s star player. The crowd held its breath as the ball soared through the air. The player caught it, squared up, and shot just as the buzzer sounded. The ball sailed cleanly through the hoop.
Swish.
The stadium erupted in cheers. Henry stood frozen for a moment, his heart pounding as he processed what had just happened. They’d won. His teammates swarmed the court. He was wrapped into the celebration. In the locker room, the celebration continued. Music blasted, players danced and laughed, and Henry found himself caught up in the revelry. He leaned back against his locker, a grin spreading across his face as he watched his teammates. He loved this feeling, the teamwork, the exhilaration of victory, the shared triumph. It was everything he’d dreamed of but never thought he’d have.
As he toweled off and joined the others, someone handed him a drink, and they raised a toast to the night’s win. Henry clinked glasses with the team, laughing and savoring the moment. For a brief time, all the questions and doubts faded away. He wasn’t just pretending to be Meyers Leonard. He was Meyers Leonard. With the locker room celebration wound down, one of the players clapped Henry on the back and grinned. “Hey, Leonard, we’re hitting up Revolution to celebrate. You in?”
Henry hesitated, feeling a strange, instinctive pull of reluctance in his chest. It was as though Meyers’ body itself was signaling that this wasn’t something he’d normally do. Maybe Meyers was more of a straight-laced family man. But Henry shook off the hesitation. This was his life now, his body. And for once, he wasn’t going to hold back. “Yeah, I’m in,” he said with a grin, his deep voice cutting through the noise.
The team piled into cars, and soon Henry found himself stepping into a pulsating nightclub. The atmosphere hit him like a wave, the flashing lights, the pounding bass, the press of bodies moving to the rhythm. It was chaotic and exhilarating. He followed his teammates to a VIP section, where drinks were already waiting. Henry grabbed a beer and took a swig, letting the alcohol amplify the buzz of victory still thrumming through him.
As the night wore on, the vibe became electric. People recognized the players, cheering and congratulating them. For the first time, Henry was at the center of attention, not as an awkward, unnoticed college kid, but as a confident, admired athlete. Girls approached, smiling and flirting, their eyes wide with excitement. Henry couldn’t believe it. These women weren’t just talking to him; they were drawn to him.
The chaotic energy of the club, the high from the win, the drinks, it all mixed into a heady concoction. Before he knew it, a woman with striking eyes and a bright smile was leaning close, her hand resting on his chest. They exchanged a few playful words, though Henry couldn’t quite hear her over the music. Then it happened. She tilted her head, her lips brushing against his. It was tentative at first, but Henry leaned in, letting the moment take over. Their kiss deepened, the crowd around them fading into a blur of lights and sound.
For a fleeting moment, Henry’s mind raced. Was this what Meyers would do? What about his wife and kid? But he pushed the thoughts aside. Right now, he wasn’t worried about Meyers or his responsibilities. This was his night, his life, and he was claiming it.
Henry was fully immersed in the moment, his confidence swelling as he bantered and flirted with the women who kept gravitating toward him. For the first time in his life, he felt like the charismatic, confident center of attention. The girl he’d been kissing leaned in, laughing at something he said, and he flashed her an easy smile. The flashing lights and pounding music made the entire night feel like a surreal dream, one he wasn’t ready to wake up from.
But then a voice cut through the haze. “Yo, Leonard!” one of his teammates called out, making his way through the crowd. “What the hell are you doing, man?” Henry froze, turning to see two of his teammates approaching. One of them looked serious, his brow furrowed in disbelief, while the other was grinning, clearly amused. “You’ve got a wife, dude,” the serious one said, crossing his arms. “You forget about her or something?”
Henry opened his mouth, scrambling for an explanation, but the grinning teammate cut in. “Relax, man,” he said, clapping Henry on the shoulder. “Let him have some fun. This is what being a star is all about!” The serious one shook his head. “That’s not the Leonard I know. You’re always talking about how much you love your wife and kids, and now you’re out here acting like ... this?”
Henry felt a wave of shame and panic rise in his chest. He hadn’t considered how his behavior might look to the people who actually knew Meyers. But then the grinning teammate chimed in again. “C’mon, it’s one night. Let the guy enjoy himself. Besides, it’s not like anyone’s taking this seriously, right?” Henry forced a laugh, trying to play it off. “Yeah, yeah, just blowing off some steam after the game. No big deal.”
The serious teammate didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged and turned back toward the bar. “Just… don’t do something you’ll regret, alright?” As the teammate walked away, the other one leaned in, still smirking. “You’re not usually like this, but honestly? Kinda refreshing. Feels like you’re finally loosening up. Keep it up, man.” Henry watched him leave, the girl at his side tugging at his arm, trying to pull him back into the moment. But his excitement was starting to wane. His teammates’ reactions had shaken him, reminding him that no matter how much fun he was having, this wasn’t really his life.
Henry gently pulled away from the girl, forcing a tight smile as he muttered something about needing a moment. He didn’t wait for her response. The swirling guilt in his chest was too heavy, too consuming, to stay in the noise and chaos of the club. Slipping past the throngs of people, he found his way outside. The cool night air hit his face, but it did little to calm the storm in his mind. He leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, his broad chest rising and falling as the weight of the evening bore down on him.
He wiped his face, only to realize his eyes were wet. Tears? He hadn’t even noticed. He turned away from the bouncer at the door, hiding his expression as he struggled to pull himself together. The memory of that kiss played over and over in his mind. He hadn’t thought twice about it at the time, but now it felt like a betrayal. Not just to Meyers’ wife, but to the life this man had built; a life Henry was intruding on.
“This isn’t fair,” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the muffled bass of the club. He had everything he’d ever wanted: strength, confidence, popularity, respect. The type of body that commanded attention, the life of a successful athlete. And yet, standing there under the cold streetlights, he felt hollow. This wasn’t his body. This wasn’t his life. It was Meyers’ life, carefully constructed and full of relationships and responsibilities Henry didn’t know how to handle.
His thoughts drifted to his family; his real family. His own connection that he would never have anymore being trapped in this body. He missed his dad, even though he’d spent most of his life feeling like he wasn’t good enough for him. He could almost hear Locke’s voice, offering some kind of sage advice, grounding him in a way no one else could. But what would Locke say now that Henry was living someone else’s life? Being selfish in that body? Stealing a life that wasn't his?
The thought of Meyers being trapped in his old, weak, awkward body twisted the guilt even further. What was he going through? Was he struggling to find a way back to everything he lost? Everyone he loved and cared about. Henry clenched his fists, staring down at the hands that weren’t his. Large, powerful hands that could grip a basketball like it was nothing. These hands should feel like a gift, but right now, they felt like a curse. “Do I even deserve this?” he whispered.
The tears came freely now, streaking down his face as he stood there, alone and uncertain. The life he’d always wanted was right in front of him, but it wasn’t his to live. And the unfairness of it all ... the sheer impossibility of finding a way to make this right threatened to crush him. Henry wiped his face and took a steadying breath. The guilt and confusion swirled within him, but he made a decision: he needed to leave. There was no point in staying here, pretending to enjoy the night. He flagged down a cab and gave the driver the address to Meyers’ hotel.
The ride was quiet, the streets gliding by as Henry leaned his head against the window, his mind racing. He thought about the flight tomorrow and about meeting Meyers’ family; his wife and kid. He knew now this wasn’t his life. It never would be. But if he was going to be stuck in this body, he owed it to Meyers to keep things intact. He had to live the life Meyers would have wanted.
When he got back to the hotel room, he took a moment to absorb the space. It was luxurious. He undressed. Sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at his reflection in the darkened window, the man looking back at him was everything he’d dreamed of being: tall, strong, confident. Yet, it all felt wrong. Kicking off his shoes, he stretched out on the bed, his body sinking into the plush mattress. He set an alarm on Meyers’ phone for the early morning flight and let his eyes drift closed.
As the exhaustion of the day caught up with him, he found himself whispering into the stillness of the room. “I just want to go back,” he said, his voice cracking. “I wish… I wish everything would go back and be perfect.” The words hung in the air, and for a moment, there was silence. Then, just as he drifted off, a faint, otherworldly sensation swept over him, like a ripple in the fabric of reality.
The next day, Henry stirred awake, blinking against the dim light filtering through his bedroom curtains. He yawned, stretching, and for a fleeting moment, everything felt normal. The familiar scent of his room, the creak of his old mattress, it was all unmistakably home.
A wave of relief washed over him. "I’m back." But as he shifted, something felt … different. His legs stuck out awkwardly over the edge of his bed, something that had never happened before. The covers felt tighter, almost constraining, as if they’d shrunk overnight. He looked down and saw his feet larger than he remembered, sticking out from beneath the blanket. “What the—?” he muttered, sitting up abruptly.
The movement felt strange, too. His body was heavier, stronger, and as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet thudded against the floor with a weight that startled him. Henry looked down at his hands. They were bigger, calloused in a way they hadn’t been before. He ran them over his arms, his chest, and his stomach. Everything was thicker and stronger. His heart raced as he stood, his head brushing the ceiling fan in a way it never had before.
“What’s going on?” he whispered, his voice trembling. He stumbled to the mirror on his closet door, his larger feet making unfamiliar thuds against the wooden floor. When he saw his reflection, he froze. It was him, or at least, a version of him. His face was unmistakably his own, but his body… His body looked like it had been carved from stone, tall and muscular.. It was as if someone had taken his DNA and remixed it with an athlete’s.
“Is this… me?” he said aloud, his voice deeper and richer than it had been the day before. He turned, marveling at the size of his shoulders, the way his arms bulged as he moved. He lifted his shirt and saw abs that looked like they belonged in a fitness magazine. His once-oversized pajama pants were now clinging tightly to his legs, stretched to their limits. Despite the initial shock, a flicker of joy began to spark in his chest. He wasn’t Meyers Leonard anymore, but he wasn’t the old Henry either. Somehow, his wish had transformed him into a version of himself that seemed almost… perfect.
As Henry stood there, still grappling with the sight of his new body in the mirror, a knock sounded at his bedroom door. Before he could respond, his dad, Locke, stepped in with his usual confident stride. “Morning, kiddo,” Locke said, his tone warm and easy. He glanced around the room and then gestured at the bed. “Sorry about the setup. Your old bed was falling apart, and we couldn’t get a custom-sized one delivered in time for your visit. Guess it’s a little snug, huh?”
Henry froze. He stared at his dad, waiting for some kind of reaction, shock, confusion, anything about his now towering frame. But Locke didn’t even bat an eye. Instead, Locke walked up to him and gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder. “Hope you slept okay, though. You’re gonna need all the rest you can get before the big game.”
“The game?” Henry croaked, his deeper voice startling even himself. Locke grinned. “Yeah, the basketball game! The other dads and sons don’t stand a chance now that you’re playing. I mean, come on, my son, a soon-to-be pro? They’re in for a rude awakening.” Henry’s breath caught in his throat. He looked at his dad’s face, the lines of pride and excitement so vivid it almost didn’t feel real.
For a moment, Henry felt like he was going to break down. He blinked rapidly, trying to keep his emotions in check. This was what he’d always wanted. Not just his dad’s approval, but to feel like he deserved it. To feel proud of himself in return. “You okay, son?” Locke asked, his tone softening. Henry nodded quickly, clearing his throat. “Yeah, Dad. Just… thinking about the game.”
Locke grinned again and pointed toward the closet. “Good. You’ve got your stuff ready, right? Let’s show them what we’re made of.” As Locke turned to leave, Henry couldn’t help but marvel at the surrealness of the moment. Here he was, taller than his dad, stronger, and finally feeling like he belonged.
Henry watched as his dad left the room, his heavy footsteps fading down the hall. Once the coast was clear, he grabbed his clothes and headed to the bathroom. He needed time to himself, to process everything. As he stepped into the bathroom, he couldn’t help but glance at the mirror again. His reflection drew his full attention. The tall, muscular figure staring back at him still felt surreal, but the more he looked, the more he felt a rush of pride and excitement.
He ran his hands over his broad shoulders, flexed his powerful arms, and twisted to admire the sculpted definition of his back. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath, and even the way his abs tightened when he moved made him grin. “This is me now,” he whispered, his voice carrying a note of awe.
Henry stood there for a moment, taking it all in. He thought about Meyers, the man whose life he’d stepped into for a brief, chaotic day. A man with a family, a career, and a reputation Henry could have easily destroyed. But he hadn’t. The temptation had been there, but so had the guilt.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something strange on the counter. A small card, simple and plain, with elegant handwriting on the front: To Henry. He picked it up, curiosity prickling his skin, and opened it. The message inside made his heart skip:
"Henry,
You were given the opportunity to take what you wanted most. You could have claimed Meyers’ life and left him with nothing. But even when you stumbled, your remorse showed your true character. You’re a good person, Henry. And you’ve earned this second chance to become the man you always dreamed of being.
Merry Christmas,
Santa Claus"
Henry stared at the card, his emotions swirling with gratitude, relief, and a sense of validation he hadn’t known he needed. He looked back at his reflection in the mirror and saw himself smiling, a genuine, confident smile. For the first time, he was proud of himself.
Folding the card carefully, he tucked it into his pocket. As he finished getting ready, his mind raced with plans for the future. He would make the most of this second chance, and maybe one day, if the opportunity arose, he’d find Meyers and thank him in person.
For now, though, he had a game to play. A game where he could show his dad and himself what he was truly capable of. With a deep breath and a renewed sense of purpose, Henry headed downstairs to join his father, ready to step into his new life.
"Hey, cut it out!" Travis tried to shoo away Henry as he worked on the car.
"Babeeeee, whyyyy, you looks soooo hot and muscular. And, I look so hot and muscular. You know .... I also love hairy bodies. It's so not fair!" Henry groans his flamboyant tone and mannerisms, looking a bit silly in his new over masculine body.
"Baby, no! We need to focus. We only jumped into these bodies so we could fix the car and use their knowledge to do so. We are already using their tools and garage ... we can't have fun in their bodies ... it's only business." Travis groaned as he lifted the car with the automatic lift.
"But, babeeee, I wanna play with the only tool ... I care about." Henry said as he was about to grab Travis, new body's junk. Travis swatted him out of the way.
"No, Henry! Remember anything we do in their bodies ... they will think they did, themselves. Look at these guys' memories ... they have families. We can't just turn them both gay and destroy their lives and marriages." Travis began to look at what he'd need to fix the car. "Just stand by the toolbox and hand me what I need. You should know the name of the tools because of the memories of these bodies."
"Ugh, fine, Trav, but we need to find some bodies to fuck in sooooon. It's been a few days since we fucked in new bodies! And, I'm so horny for a new expirence." Herny began to look through the toolbox.
"Okay, I need a hammer. To knock this part off, " Travis said.
"I'd love to get hammered by you." Herny giggled as he passed the tool.
"Herny!" Travis rolled his eyes. He knew their words wouldn't affect the bodies ... only their behaviors would. But, still, he thought Henry needed to get his mind out of the gutter. "Okay, now I need a wrench." Travis continued as he raised his arms to get to the part he needed to take off.
Henry took that moment to wrap his arms around Travis. He tip toed to reach Travis' armpit and licked, followed by sniff, then a kiss, and a slight suck. Travis moaned in response.
"Oops ... is this gonna affect them." Henry smirked. "My guy ... gets a new taste for your guys body. And, your guy moans in response. Seem tainted to meee!" Henry chuckled.
Travis groaned as he put his fingers to the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Fuck! And, yes! This taints them. Now they are gonna fucking do this all the time. And, be confused about it and ashamed. The only way to help them now ... is to fuck ... so they think they confessed thier love to each other. Instead of being closeted and shameful." Travis sighed as he took of his pants to get ready to fuck.
(This story is for @axeegliter. The plot was inspired by an idea he proposed to me. I hope you enjoy the story!)
Tyler looked down at his body. “Where ... I'm I.” He spoke as his mind felt cloudy. He saw that he was wearing a wrestler singlet. It looked funny on his body because he wasn't athletic enough to be wearing this, or so he thought. He wasn't scrawny or fat. He was just average; a little bloated from last night's big meal. And, he was perfectly fine with that. Even though he never worked out, he wasn't weak. He could see himself developing a dad bod as he got older, but he didn't mind. He loved doing other things with his time instead of spending his whole life at a gym to look like a Greek statue. So, as Tyler looked down, he couldn't help but be confused. “What the fuck am I wearing?” He snapped the straps of the spandex uniform.
His father came walking in. His father was the opposite of him. He was a coach and personal trainer all of Tyler's life. “You really did no training? Tyler, this is the big match, and you look like this! No muscle! You are gonna get your ass kicked.” It was still hard to think for Tyler. The world around him was moving so fast, but his body and mind were moving so slow. “Dad? What are you doing here? Where am I? What match? ... I never joined the wrestling team.” Tyler thought back about his early high-school years and how his father was so disappointed that Tyler lied about trying out for any team.
“It's too late to cry about this boy. Time to get your ass beat like a man of your word. You agreed to this fight ... time to see it through. Just walk to the ring.” His father spoke sternly. Before Tyler could speak, he was in a long hallway with a bright light at one end. With every step, he could hear the roaring cheer of an audience. An announcer began to introduce him, and the cheering grew louder. He felt a pit in his stomach as he got closer to the light. He knew thousands of eyes would be on him, but he didn't want that. He never wanted to be the center of attention. He took a step into the light, and a blast of loud music made him jump.
Tyler jumped out of bed. The hallway was gone. The bright light was gone. He looked down at his body and saw his shirtless torso. The wrestling singlet was nowhere to be seen. He was getting a bit sick and dizzy from the quick wake-up. But, he realized the loud music was pounding against his wall. Tyler groaned when an energetic person began to talk as the music started to wrap up. “Welcome, Bros! Today, I'm gonna run through a 2 hour workout that you can get done at home to keep you toned on days you can't get to the gym for that sweet pump!”
Tyler sat on his bed, his heart slowly calming down from the intense state of panic. He realized how hot he was and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Fuck, that was an intense nightmare.” He finally gained enough energy to get up and deal with reality. The loud noise of the TV was filling up his room. He got up and began to stretch and found a shirt to put on. He felt gross from the sweat that was on his body caused by the panicked state of the nightmare. He gathered some clothes to go take a shower and get changed. Doing one last yawn he walked out of his dorm room and got ready to face what he suspected would be on the other side of the door.
Tyler instantly rolled his eyes as he saw that he was right. He saw Ryan shirtless in a pair of workout shorts. The thuds of his heavy muscular body shook the room as he followed the exercises done on the online video. Ryan was a himbo jock that Tyler was, unfortunately, paired up with this year at the dorms. It wasn't that Ryan was a bad roommate for the most part. It was more that they had nothing in common. Even worse, Ryan just couldn't figure that out. Ryan would try to get Tyler to hang out with him. He invited him to come work out or join him at parties, but Tyler often rejected his offer. The main time they would hang out was when they had nothing better to do and a game was on. Although, Tyler saw some benefit of having a himbo for a friend. It was through him that he found his girlfriend, and he did help Tyler's social game.
Ryan muted the video. With his signature smile, the jock began to speak. “Yo! Ty, you up! Wanna join me on this workout!” Tyler looked at Ryan like a grumpy cat awoken from a deep slumber. “No Ryan ... Ideally, I'd like to still be asleep. Why are you blasting this video at 6:10 in the morning.” He spoke like a parent scolding a child. Ryan rubbed the back of his head. “It's a holiday and the gym was closed ... I need to get my morning work out in.” He blushed as he explained his thought process.
“Yes, Ryan, it's a holiday ... and don't you think people would love some rest.” Ryan sighed as he pinched the top of his nose. “Look, just lower it! I don't want other people complaining about the noise. I'm gonna take a shower cause apparently I've done enough sweating in my sleep.” As Ryan spoke, he was caught off guard as it looked like the man in the video was looking at him. Even though it was muted, it felt like the man was listening to him and analyzing, as he continued to work out.
“I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking ... I just need to get my workout in.” Ryan apologized. “Just keep down.” Tyler said, walking out to go to dorms shared restroom. Looking back at the screen, he watched as the man teasingly took off his shirt, almost mocking Tyler's lack of fitness.”
Tyler would come back to his dorm and see that his friend was still working out. He tried to avoid looking at the video. He couldn't explain it, but it felt like some sort of survival instinct was telling him not to look. He went back onto his bed and scrolled a bit on his phone. Looking at the time, he knew that he had to meet Nora for lunch later that day. The best part of it being a holiday meant no classes and more time to spend with his girlfriend. But that was still hours away. He yawned from waking up so early. “I could still get an hour or two of sleep.” He thought to himself.
He fell into the void until he jerked awake. “What time is it?” He groaned. His head felt strange. It was like he couldn't think. He swung his arms to grab his phone. His arms felt heavy. He brought the phone to his face and saw scribbles where the time would be. He looked out the window and saw that it's dark. He decided to speak to his phone instead. “Siri what time?” He struggles to think about what to say. “The time is 6:00 A.M” Siri responds. “Can't be right. Why me talk weird.” He worried, as his thoughts seemed to he filtered out to talk like some kind of cave man.
He gets up and tries to walk over to the restroom. But, his body moves to the dorm’s shared room. Tyler tries to fight, but his body is acting on its own. He turns on his phone and starts a video. And then he sees his body. He looks like a dumbed himbo version of himself. He screams in his head. His worst nightmare is happening. He tried to scream for help from Ryan, but he wondered if that idiot would even know what to do. His body starts talking by itself. “Hello! And welcome to me video ... we work out, and you get ripped like me!” He says as idiotically as possible. He starts to work out. He internally screams in pain as he feels his body working to the limit. But, after a while, it begins to feel good. He wanted to see how much more pain he could push through. And then the workout alarm echoed throughout the room. He tries to turn it off but can't. “Why no stop!” He panics.
Then he opened his eyes and shot out of bed. His heart was racing. He looked around his room and found his phone. He grabbed it and looked at the time. Heart still racing, he realized it was all a dream and he had 30 minutes before he was supposed to meet up with his girlfriend. He got up and looked at himself. He was in his normal body. He felt some relief. But, a part of him was also disappointed. He felt weak. “No ... stop that ... you are happy with your body ... you don't need to be a gym head. It was just a nightmare. You didn't like it. You don't like it.” He spoke to himself as he got up and put on some casual clothes and went to the cafeteria to meet up with Nora.
Sitting at the table waiting for Nora, Tyler couldn't stop thinking about his nightmares. How easily he could have been a jock if he listened to his father. Sometimes, he was jealous of how simple-minded Ryan was. He'd admit that in those seconds, being buff wouldn't be the worst thing ever. But, then another thought entered his head. The images of the man from the workout video. He couldn't shake him out of his mind. A warning deep in his soul screamed out. “Damn, get a hold of yourself ... what is wrong with you?” He whispers to himself.
Mid thought, Nora walked up on him. “What's on your mind?” She says as she wraps her arms around Tyler, from behind. He jumped from the surprise and turned around. He wrapped Nora in his arms and gave her a kiss. “Nothing ... Today has just been strange. How have you been?” He smiled, trying to stop his mind from racing. Nora talked about her morning. She was happy that she could sleep in and finish some homework. As she talked, she couldn't help but notice that Tyler kept slipping in and out of his own mind. “Are you sure you are okay?” She said with a tone of concern.
“Um ... yeah ... sorry.” Tyler slowly swam back to reality. “It's just ... I don't know ... today has been weird. Like I've had two nightmares today, and they both kinda revolved around the same thing.” Tyler began to explain. He began to go into detail. As he talked, he tried to find any meaning. But, he was also a little bothered by the fact Nora was looking at her phone. “Are you even listening?” He sighed. “Yes? I can look at my phone and listen. Your first dream could be like some daddy issues.” She teased as she looked up from her phone. “And, maybe the second dream is you just being annoyed at Ryan for waking you up too early.” She tried to be helpful. Tyler sits in the following seconds of silence
“Damn!” Nora let out as she almost choked on her drink. “What is it?” Tyler looked up at her. “It's nothing...” Nora tried to move the conversation along. “Come on, just let me see.” Tyler begged. “Fine ...” Nora said a bit hesitantly. “It's just some fitness influencer ... a gif of him flexing. He's been all over social media. I just didn't expect to see him on my reel.” She explained. Tyler mind snapped as he watched the same man from the video Ryan was watching earlier today. He felt jealous ... an emotion he hardly felt.
“Oh ... I see ... you think he's hot cause he's ripped ... not like me.” He pouted. “Come on, Tyler, don't make this something it's not. I like you and your body ... the gif just got me off guard.” Nora sighed. “Yeah but I'd bet you'd like me more if I was ripped ... If I had a body like Ryan. If I was the athlete my dad wanted to be.” Tyler got up and started speaking loudly, making a bit of a scene. “Tyler I don't know what's up with you today ... but knock it off. You know, none of that is true. You are good the way you are. Knock it off before you ruin the day.” Nora said, getting more annoyed at the situation. “Well Nora! Maybe I don't want to just be good. Maybe I want to be great.” He said as he stormed off.
Tyler rushed back into his dorm. “Okay asshole. You want to mess with me. Well fuck you. I'll use you to get ripped ... see your stupid videos and show that it's nothing to fucking brag about. I'll show that you can be ripped and not be some fucking attention whore.” Tyler cussed as he started pulling up the same YouTube video that Ryan on. He stopped himself aa he realized how much his blood was boiling. “What the fuck is wrong with me ... this is not me. Why am I so mad? Why is this getting under my skin?” He said holding his head in his hands and trying to fight his thoughts.
The video began to play, and the man began to speak. “It's okay, Tyler ... I'm here to help.” Tyler was shocked as he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw that the world around him turned into a gym. The man from the video was there looking into his eyes. “What the fuck ... this is another dream ... I just gotta wake up.” Tyler panics. “Maybe it is ... maybe it isn't. But, either way this is your home now.” The man smirked. Tyler felt frozen in place. “This ... it's not possible...” Tyler continues.
“Tyler, Tyler, Tyler, it's okay. Trust me ... I'm here to help. I was just like you. Just an average guy ... I got trapped in this same room. Now look at me ... online health influencer, a personal trainer, and more. People love me, and I love the attention they give me. I love that by watching me and my body, I give them hope. And, now I offer you the same experience.” The man smiles and flaunts his body.
“B...b...but I don't want this. I just want to get out of here.” Tyler stuttered. “I think I phrased something wrong. This is not your choice. The choice has been made for you. But to be honest, you wouldn't be here if this wasn't some you wanted. I've been watching you. What was it you said ... you'd use me to get ripped to show me up? And, what about your dream? Wouldn't life be easier if all you cared about was getting a good pump like your friend. And, you always looked up to your father ... don't you want to finally make him proud.” The man smirked. The words stung Tyler's mind. The man was right. “No! You've done something to me! I didn't want this ... I like who I am. Why did you put these thoughts in my head.” Tyler yelled. The man lightly repetitively slapped Tyler's face. “You'll see in time ... this is what you wanted. This is what you were meant to become.” The man walked away and began to vanish.
As the man left, Tyler finally felt control of his body return as he fell to his knees. He looked around for an exit, but there were no doors or windows. He began to rush around the perimeter of the gym, but nothing showed itself to be a secert way out. He was trapped. He banged on the walls and cried out to be let out. The room let out a ringing sound, and his body froze up again. He was not in control as it moved towards a set of dumbells. He began to lift them. His arms worked out until he was sore. A line appeared on his chest, and he fell to the floor as he regained control of his body. Another ringing sound filled the room, and his body went on autopilot. Another set of reps was done. The pain increased as his arms still didn't have time to recover. Another line appeared on his chest. The process continued over and over. The lines on his chest were changing, becoming obvious that they were roman numerals. Tyler was trapped in his body internally, screaming for it to stop. He was fighting hard to gain some control. The number on his chest reached 72, and he fell to the floor. He tried to lift himself up, but the pain in his arms prevented him from doing so.
He looked up as he heard footsteeps approaching him. “What the fuck did you do to me! Let me out! You sick bastard!” Tyler screamed through the pain and exhaustion. The man laughed. “And, why would I do that? I just came to say you are doing great! The audience loves you.” Tyler choked on his exhaustion. “Audience...” The man chuckled. “You still haven't pieced it together. You are stuck in a gif. That number is the view count. People are sharing you as we speak. You'll be on workout forums. You body will be blasted on thirst trap forums. I might even share your clip on my personal channel. And, everytime someone watches you ... this gif ... you will be compelled to do the same movement over and over again. “Fuck you! I'll find a way out of this ... I'll kill you.” Tyler growled. The man walk over and squated down. “Well good luck with that, soon to be big guy.” He patted Tyler's back.
His body froze up once again. He continued the process. But, it wouldn't stop. The number on his chest kept getting higher. He could feel the muscles in his arms and chest rip and heal. The tears of the pain were disgused by the sweat running down his face. He hated it. He could only stare at his reflection in the mirror. He didn't know how long he'd been here. But, he already saw changes in his body. His arms looked more toned. Hours ... days ... weeks passed. Tyler wasn't sure as keeping track of time was impossible. The number would finally reach over 1,000, and he stopped. He fell back onto the floor. His arms and chest burning in intense pain. “Nobody must be watching!” He coughed out after not talking for what felt like an eternity.
He needed to get up. This was his time to find a way out. He couldn't take much more. He tried to lift himself up, but the pain was too great. His heart beat faster he used thst pain to fuel his rage. He needed to push. And, he did. He used all his strength to lift himself up. But, he was surprised. It didn't hurt. It felt good. A good sore feeling. As he stood still, the intense pain returned. He screamed out. He let the pain fuel him again and pick up the dumbell, and threw it against the wall, hoping it would crack and reveal an exit. But, the wall remained undamaged. Tyler winced in preparation to feel more pain from what he did. But, again, that good sore feeling filled his body. He lifted the other dumbell and did some reps. The intense stabbing pain decreased. “Fuck! It's like my body is addicted to working out. If I stop ... it's too painful.” He went to a leg press machine and started working put. He sat there and started thinking of a plan. But, before anything could be done ... a ringing sound filled the gym and he was back into the gif loop.
The number kept rising. His body was becoming more addicted to lifting. Thinking became pointless. The sore feeling relaxed his mind. There was no point in thinking of friends, family, or a way out. He was trapped. It could have been years at this point. He didn't know if this was real. Maybe he was dead, and this was hell. The only thing he could do to keep himself sane was count every set and rep. Then the number would stop, and the pain would come back. He'd stuggle to the nearest machine to work out ... to relieve himself from the pain. Over this time, his body would transform. He had to assume it had been years as he looked older. His arms began to curve into thick biceps and blouderish shoulders. His chest jutted out in a shelf of muscle. His torso chiseled itself as sweat washed down his body. His thighs thickened with hard muscle. And, his legs began to get well defined. The number on his chest just continued to rise.
Something finally snapped in Tyler's mind. As the number grew on his chest, he realized how many people watched him. How many people lusted over him. How many people saw his gif and got inspired to work out. He felt proud. The pain began to feel good. Working out felt as necessary as breathing did. He'd look in his reflection and loved the man he saw. After the last round of gif play throughs. He walked up to the mirror. The pain felt good. He flexed. The man from the video appeared behind him and rubbed his chest. “I think you are ready for the next step.” He smiled.
(A story written for @tf-lover for the annual story exchange)
The world was a blur, as Erica zoomed by. She was driving home in a rush. The day had dragged on, and her professor was the cherry on top of pile shit that today had turned out to be. Unfortunately, her ass of a professor wasn't the only problematic man she had to face. On a daily basis, there was a parade of men that would at best annoy her and, at worst, make her wish she was not a girl. Don't get me wrong. She loved being a girl. Well, she loved being a Tom Girl. But even with her best attempt of dressing and acting tough, there were always guys trying to hit on her ... make her act like “a real woman,” Stop hiding her beauty by dressing like a “dyke,” and let a man protect her. But, she didn't need a man’s protection. She'd taken out guys twice her size. But, all people saw when they looked at her was a small and weak 4’9 girl.
Although, she wouldn't lie. She often fantasized about being a man. And, not just any man. She wanted to be seen tough on the outside like she felt on the inside. Yeah, if she was a man, she'd wanted to be ripped and muscled out. She'd want to be the epitome of strength. She'd want to look like she worked out every day of her life. She'd smile at the fact that men would finally leave her alone. She wouldn't get hit on. Her professor wouldn't even dare criticize her. And, if he did ... she beat the living shit out of him without breaking a sweat.
As she drove home, she let these ideas carry her to her happy place. Gaming. The only solace she had from reality. She could play as a manly warrior. She could be the cool space soldier with undoubted authority. She could play with the boys and not be thought of as some girl. She never even considered telling her gamer friends she was a girl. It was her little secret ... a secret made better by the fact she was better than all of them in any game they played. Thanks to the technological advancements of the late 21st and early 22nd centuries, her video game fantasies were even more of a reality. The improvements of artificial imaging, vocal mapping, and sensory mirroring in virtual reality helped to make gamers live a life in the games they played.
Now, she was speeding through traffic on her way home. She was looking forward to the only saving grace that could make this shitty day better. Today was the announcement of the newest VR game. Rumored to be the next big step in virtual reality. There have been a few clips and leaks of the game, but other than that, the games secrets have been locked up tight. All she knew of the game was that it was rumored to have true realism graphics and that if it was true ... it would be the first of its kind. She continued her way home, cursing at anything that slowed her down.
Arriving home, she ran straight to her room. “Hey, fuckers keep it down. I'm gonna be watching the announcement of the new game. And, if I'm interrupted, I'm gonna kick someone's ass.” She puffed as rushed by her roommates. With readied excitement she turned on her computer and logged onto the first stream of the announcement she could find. The screen remained black for a few seconds before flashing to life.
The screen flashed with the image of The Second Life company. Three colored triangles zoomed onto the screen. They proceed to spin around in a circle, and their points interlocked. The logo began to fade, as a man sitting at an office desk begins to get into view. The chat section began to glow abuzz. People commented their excitement, others shouted out greetings to the void, and others just threw out nonsense. “Hello! And welcome to today's announcement.” The man smiled as he spoke. His name flashed under him on the screen, Nathan Black.
The man continued to talk as he spoke with a smug grin. The attractive features of his face and those most likely underneath his suit helped fill his presence with Charisma. “History has led us to this moment. Our ancestors could only imagine what their children could have achieved. And, Human history has brought so many advancements in so many areas of science and technology. VR technology is one of these areas.Beginning in the 2010s, we entered the dark ages of VR. The first real uses and mainstream-ifacation. Over the years, new technology has been created to make these experiences even more real and personal. Now, in the great year 2130, you can play as a cartoon cat running your own cafe. Zip through space in your own spaceship. Immerse yourself in real-time team warfare. Take on cgi Dragons with your friends. Build cgi avatars to be the person you always wanted to be. Even now, data shows that 10 percent of people have decided to make VR spaces and games their true lives. Spending most of their day plugged in. 30 percent of people report a steady income from VR game economies. The future is now VR!” He stands up and begins to walk around the office. The camera moved to follow him.
“Our ancestors one hundred years ago ... had dreams. Flying cars, instant meals, teleportation services, space travel, etcetera. But, years of human conflict have stunted any progress we could have achieved. Instead, we continue to look for an escape from real life. Instead, we've put money into developing entertainment. We hope to be distracted from the world. Those numbers I've shared are only going up. With 55 percent of people interested in making a move to permanent VR or even picking up a second job in VR spaces. And, why wouldn't they? Everything our ancestors wanted, in the 21st, 20th, 19th centuries, and back to the dawn of time, is available in these VR spaces. So why not improve them to the best capabilities we can. Why not make it more real? Why not make them as indistinguishable from reality as we can? Well, we have. Everything you have seen in this announcement has not been real. It has been generated with our new console. The Second Life X.” As he says that, the walls and everything in his office disintegrate like sand blown in a strong breeze. He now stands in an open cleaning in a forest. The comment section of the stream explodes with excitement and disbelief. A group of people not believing this is real because there was just no way that graphics could be this good.
“And the first foray into this new world of VR is called Fantasy Land. The bundled game will come with the console at launch. When we developed what we are calling Real CGI ... we pondered on what genre would be the first to explore. And we thought it would be best to take it back to the earliest form of fantasy. Where knights and wizards roamed to adventure. Where fairies danced in the woods and magic was in the air. Where people would live to die as legends.”
The rest of the stream showed off new features of the game. The intensive character creation section. Erica could imagine spending days, if not weeks, just on the character creation to make her avatar the exact way she wanted it. As Nathan showed off these features, it was almost scary how real it looked. Nathan's face would morph to have different features. His body would grow and shrink to different sizes. Finally, he reverted back to himself and began to show off some spells, and they looked equally realistic. The stream ended with the surprise that the system and game would drop a week before Christmas, tomorrow.
All the excitement that built up in Erica was instantly drained. She collapsed onto her gaming chair. She let out an audible “Fuuuck!” From her room. She sat there for a few minutes and then moved to plop herself face down on the bed. “Fuck! Today couldn't just be a bit better.” As she lied there in self pity, she could hear her door squeak open. “Erica!!! Did you see it! Did you see the announcement!” She didn't even need to look up to see that her twin brother had entered the room.
She loved her brother, but right now, she wanted to be left alone. But, she could hear the excitement in his voice. And, he didn't deserve her meanness. No, Elias had to deal with meanness all his life. When they were both in the womb, Erica felt like she took all the good genes. She was smart and beautiful despite hiding it in baggy clothes. Her brother was not the brightest, and he wasn't the most attractive man in a room. He was a socially awkward geek. One that she would have to protect from bullies at school. But, now in college, he did have two things she didn't have. The ability to make real friends. Yeah, she had online friends ... but she kept a bunch of secrets from them. But, again, she didn't really like people. So, she was glad that Elias had friend making skills at the very least. So, she could spend more time alone in the virtual world. The second thing was her brother's size and strength. He was the definition of a friendly giant.
“Yeah, I heard.” She sighed and looked up at her brother. “Are you sure? Because, if you did ... you'd be more excited!” He beamed. “No, yeah, the game looked great.” She rolled her eyes. “Erica! Then why aren't you excited ... are you being sarcastic ... I can't tell. Why didn't you like the game?” Elias pleaded for an answer. “Cause, Elias, I won't be playing the game!” She yelled out. Elias jumped. “Why not? I mean, it's coming out tomorrow ... short notice. But we can go out now and wait in line for a midnight release somewhere.” Erica sighed, “It’s not because it's too soon ... it's because I don't have money to buy a new console! I thought it was gonna be a game for SL 9.” Elias looked worried. “Well that's okay ... then when you do get money ... we can go get one. So what if we have to wait a week or two.” Erica fell back onto her bed. “If only! Remember when the Second Life 9 came out ... it was completely out of stock for a year ... and then some people didn't even get it off the waitlist until 3 years later.” Elias sank on the bed next to her. He was also beginning to realize the bad news. “We could ask mom and dad ...” Erica cut him off, “They never would ... you know they are against VR, and they believe it's evil and gonna take over the world.” Elias weakly smiled, “Well ... then we hope for a miracle.” Erica, let those words sink in, “Yup, a miracle.”
Christmas Day
Erica had spent the rest of the week in a sort of depression. Now, sitting around her family as they opened presents, she couldn't get herself in the mental space to be there. Everyone was smiling and getting into the atmosphere of the day. She opened her presents like everyone else. She got dresses from her parents. She got makeup and lotions from other family members. She got a gift card from her brother, which was the only gift she liked. Christmas was another horrible day. And, when it was over, she was happy. Her and Elias began the drive back to their shared apartment. Their other roommates still gone with their families out of state.
Getting back to the apartment, she plopped onto the couch and sat down. Elias slowly approached. “I got you another present ... I thought it would be best to open away from mom and dad.” He hurried to his room and came back with a big box. “Merry Christmas!” Erica was puzzled and began to open it. “ You didn't need... Oh my fucking God! How...” She exploded with excitement, as she unwrapped the Second Life X bundle.
She ran to her room and began to plug in everything. The game loaded up, and she attached the new VR headset to her face. The logo of the company and the game flash by. She hurried to start a new game. She looked down and saw her current body in some kind of fantasy styled inn and wearing barbarian starting gear. She saw options floating around her. She instantly goes to height and begins to increase it. The world around her became slightly smaller. Now, she was standing at 6’4. She looked at her reflection in a mirror. She laughed at seeing her features on this stretched out body. She swapped her gender and felt a zap on the side of her head. She touched it as a reaction. “Fuck that hurt!” The game informed here that sensory mode had now been enabled. And, at that instant she saw her body begin to morph to look more masculine. She looked like her brother, only better looking and slimmer. As her body morphed it felt like water rippling. It felt relaxing. Then she gasped as she felt something pop out of her vagina. She reached down into her pants, noticing her clothes also were shifting to match her new body, she felt her new cock. “What the fuck ... this is new ... this game really went there!” She laughed with her same voice. She winced seeing such a girly voice coming out of this man's body. She began to explore voice options until she found one she liked. She looked at her reflection and smile. She looked like a hot fuck boy. But, she didn't want to stop there. She wanted to be a man.
She began to explore with body hair options. And increasing her muscle size by adding points to her strength stat. She found it interesting that layout her stats started as. She also found it strange that if she wanted to, she could max all her stats to 20. She maxed out her strength. She set her dexterity to 15. Her constitution maxed to 20. Her intelligence was already 17, so she didn't change it. Her wisdom was also not changed at 12. And, her charisma score of 5 was bumped to 14. Her body morphed to match every choice. She looked at her new avatar. An absolute beast of a man. Hairy, ripped, and good-looking. She was happy as she looked in the mirror. She felt her body, and it felt rock hard. Her cock was ragging in her pants. “Fuck ... is this really gonna be part of the game.” She laughed. She pondered making more changes... but she also wanted to see actual game play. Worst case she could always start a new game if she did want to make changes to the way she looked. She played the first ten minutes of the game before she felt hungry. “Too bad I still have to leave the game to eat.” She laughed.
She took off her headset, and the world was thrown out of balance. Her room looked so much smaller. She began to stumble and walk. She felt so heavy, and the floor thudded with every step. She looked down and saw her avatar from the game. She or now he was completely naked. The clothes he was wearing were torn to shreds. He let out a guttural yell instead of a scream. “Erica! Is that you!” Elias barged into the room. He looked at the naked barbarian in front of him, hung like a horse. “Ahhhhh!” Elias screamed.
Erica rushed to him. Not knowing his own strength, he knocked them both to the floor. He covered Elias’ mouth to stop the screaming. “It's me ... it's Erica!.” He shouted in a deep voice. Elias fainted. When he came to, he saw the giant man taking care of him. If this man was bad ... why was he still here. It couldn't be... “Erica ...” He let out. Erica turned to see her brother awake. “Yeah ... it's me.” He spoke, his voice rumbling the air with his deep voice. “What happened?” Elias squeaked.
The big man pointed to the screen. The news was on. A woman spoke as the words “breaking news” flashed on the screen. “Reports are still coming in of Body Transformations throughout the country and world. Authorities are confirming that the cause is the new Second Life X console. It is also believed that the company has purposefully set this bio weapon on the public. The Second Life Entertainment offices and Second Life Corporation have been radio silent on the matter. Wait ... just ... it seems like their website has just gone offline. Authorities are asking to drop off all Second Life technology to the nearest police station. Again, do not use Second Life technology.”
The news broadcast kept going. The sound of sirens from the outside began to fill the night air. Other screams could be heard in the distance. But Erica interrupted, “And, online coders found hidden code that was set to activate just a few moments ago. People are saying Second Life has been planning this for a long time.” Elias looked at his new brother concerned. “Well ... I'm sorry ... is there a way to undo this?”.
The gaint laughed and shook the air. “Sorry! I love this! This is what I always wanted. But you probably shouldn't call me Erica anymore... Call me Erik ... with a K.” He laughs “More barbaric. But what about you, little bro ... want a new life.” Elias gasped. “What about the report ... can this be trusted? What about the consequences.” Erik put his huge strong hand on his brother. “The only consequences is you'll be the person you always wanted to. Think no one is going to give this to the police ... the power to be who they want. The world has changed. You can be in it as the person you want or the person you are now.”
Elias grabbed the VR headset and put it on. He began a new game and began to edit his character. Erik watched his brother change before his eyes. Elias shrank from 6’4 to 6’. He began to slim down. His chubby body became more tone. His pasty skin tanned until he looked like an exotic Middle Eastern man. His oversized clothes fell off his body. He looked like an Arab heartthrob. He took off the headset and looked at his new body, and smiled. “Damn it feels so good. And, now that I have raised my intelligence score ... I see what you mean. This is the new world.” He smiled. He raised his hand, and small particles of frosted air began to coat his hands in a layer of frost.
“Damn, nice body, bro. Didn't know this was your ideal body. Based on physique and that you have frost magic... you picked wizard.” Erik laughed. “Well isn't it obvious.” Elias said with a wit and sass he never had before. “Bro, I think we should bring this head set to some other people. Give some friends some equally attractive bodies. And, enemies ... something else.” Elias smirked. Erik smiled, “That has to be the smartest idea you've ever had. I'm ready when you are.” He chuckled at the thought of changing everyone that made his life hell. His parents, professor, and more. The two men found some usable clothes and walked out of the apartment to help change the world.
Epilogue: Nathan Black sat in his private jet, on route to his secret bunker. In front of him was a laptop with a hooded figure on the screen. “It's been done.” He raised a glass of wine and drank it. “It took a bit more than a century, but it's done.” He smiled.
The hooded figure spoke. “The gods left behind small tools of power. From rings that could swap bodies, plants that affect a person's age, gems that allow possessions, and so many other small gifts” the figure spoke with annoyance. “They always feared giving humanity true magic. But, I have used those gift to do what they didn't want. The era of magic is among us.” Both men laughed.
TF Story Exchange: Can a Friendship Survive Swapmas?
@thegreatstoryteller I feel extremely greatful to have gotten a chance to write a story for you, this year. I have always loved your work. I wish you the best this holiday season and a great upcoming year. And, I hope I pleased you with this story!
Ned stared at the screen, as minutes passed by. His mind filled with worry. The same worry that always plagued his life. He couldn't help it; it was part of his DNA. Every choice in his life was a never ending debate of possibilities. Even this morning, he spent 30 minutes deciding whether or not he should eat a bowl of cereal. The same breakfast he had for the past 10 years. So, why wouldn't this decision be harder to make? The one that's currently staring right back at him through the screen.
A sense of pride hit was beaming through him. He was able to find it. It took months but he was able to find it. He was able to find a way to give his friend the best Christmas present in the world. A chance to finally be happy. A chance to give his friend a new life ... one that Ned really thought his friend deserved. He searched the dark web and now he was one click away from buying a body transformation serum. A serum that gives the drinker the body of their dreams. A few more moments pass and he weighed the outcomes. And, he clicks to confirm the payment. The page crashed. And, he searched for it again and again. But, nothing showed up. His stomach knotted up, as 10,000 dollars would leave his bank account. And, a part of him instantly became scared that he just got scammed.
Meanwhile, Theodore came walking through the front door of the apartment. His heart was broken once again, as he sulked through the apartment. The events of the night replayed in his head over and over again. Theodore knew that a night like tonight would be another reason, of many, to support the fact that his life sucked. He saw Ned on the computer. Ned's worry died as he saw the hurt in his friend's eyes.
"Hey, how did it go." Ned said with a huge amount of concern. But, Theodore just walked past him and straight into his room. Ned sat in the tense silence again debating if he should go talk to his friend or not. Ned cursed at himself for even having to think about this. Of course the right answer was to go comfort his friend.
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They were more than friends. They were best friends. Ever since grade school they were inseparable. While the other kids played house or sports, the two of them would play make believe. They'd pretend to live in their fantasy world. Where the two of them could be wizards that had magical powers, space agents looking for alien life, or one of the other many possibilities. Of course it wasn't all fun and games. They were constantly picked on a lot for being weak, scrawny, and dorky looking.
And, things just kept getting worse. Once middle school came, it was constantly filled with bullies that would harass them at any given moment. They spent many days eating lunch in their science teachers class room. They spent a lot of time running home after school. Although, they both hated it ... Theodore took it harder.
"I hate myself, Ned. Why are we like this? Why do we play nerdy video games, see baby shows .... Why are we nerds? Why aren't we stronger? Why can't we just be like the other boys..." Theodore would complain.
"Theodore, we don't need to be like them. You're cool like this. You're smart and they don't get that. One day they are gonna be working for us." Ned laughed to cheer up his friend.
But, for Theodore ... Those words didn't make things better. And, as they got to high-school, things would get a lot more complicated. The same guys that would bully them, in elementary and middle school, now became jocks. Their body's transforming due to the effects of puberty and working out. But, both Ned and Theodore stayed their scrawny nerdy selves. The bullying continued and the resentment Theodore had towards himself grew. But, all Ned needed was their friendship in order to survive this period of his life.
"I don't get it Ned, guys like them ... they don't deserve the bodies they have. They're villains. We are good guys. If we had bodies like that ... we'd be heroes." Theodore would constantly say. And, Ned would just listen. He would realize he loved Theodore. He would begin to write in his journal ... about their lives together. At the same time, Theodore was realizing there was more than just jealousy towards the "cool" guys. Watching them in the locker rooms and having their bodies pressed against him, was turning him on. He also was realizing he was gay.
Both of these young men tried to keep it a secret. But, it wouldn't stay so. Ned journal would get taken and copies of the pages would flood the halls of the school. As a result, the two boys would be outed and even more made to be outcast. They also had to work on maintaining their friendship. Theodore was furious at Ned. And, Ned felt a tremendous level of guilt. But, at the end of the day ... all they had were each other. Theodore made it clear that Ned wasn't his type. And, Ned needed to learn to be okay with that. But, despite all the mess, their friendship only grew stronger. And of course being to gay young man ... they still played around together.
Now, they were both roommates sharing an apartment as they tackled college. And, Ned finally saw hope. They had made it through the rough years. The bullying had stopped. They've found people and places that accept the gay nerds they were. So what if they don't get invited to traditional parties? They are a step closer to being the version of themselves Ned always knew they'd be one day.
But, Theodore did not see it that way. He continued to try and be something he wasn't. He'd go to the gym for short sprints of time ... to get that jock body. He'd try and get invited to frat parties. He still held on to the dream that he could change who he was. No matter what his genes or mind said, Theodore had a strong feeling that his life shouldn't be like this. He should be cool; he was born in the wrong body.
Seeing his friend grow more and more depressed as the years went on, Ned knew he had to do something. And, that's what led him down his months-long journey to find the transformation serum. And, all of this was the reason he knew he had to walk into that room and comfort his friend.
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"Hey, so ... um ... what happened?" Ned asked as he poked his head in to comfort his friend.
"I don't want to talk about it." Theodore said as his face laid into his bed.
"Come on ... it can't be that bad. So, he said no? There are other guys out there." Ned tried to reassure his friend.
"No, man ... It's bad. I really thought James was different." Theodore sighed.
"Why, what did he do?" Asked Ned.
"He was just like the rest. Maybe worst. I thought this whole time ... he might actually like me. I know I'm scrawny and weak. But, I thought he'd like a twink like me. But, these gym 'bros' always suck. At least the others were straight up. They'd make a proposition like me doing homework for a chance to touch them. But, James has been tricking me this whole time. Only he didn't have the guts to tell me upfront. Another dumbass jock that wanted his homework done. Worst is that he's straight. He couldn't stop laughing at me for thinking ... I thought he actually liked me." Theodore vented.
"Theodore ... that sucks. But, come on man ... we can't attract jocks. We are the definition of nerdy guys. There are plenty of guys that would like you. But, they aren't gonna be at the gym full of university jocks." Ned tried to help.
"I don't know Ned ... I just hate my life. I love you for always being there. And, I know what you are saying is true. But, this is just not right. I look at myself and feel like I should be ... no ... I need to be something else ... someone else." Theodore sighed.
Ned debated telling Theodore about the serum. He knew he should wait until it actually arrived. "Well it's no use just sitting and crying about it. Come on ... we have dungeons and dragons today. Let's get going ... slaying a dragon will get you in a better mood." Ned smiled. And, Theodore put on a weak smile.
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The days passed as Christmas got closer. And, Ned walked up to the apartment to see a small package sitting at the front door. His heart raced as he picked it up and brought it inside. He opened it up and saw a clear vial glowing with dimmed blue light. The colors were almost hypnotizing and inviting. He slowly picked up the vial and heard a voice telling him to drink it. He instantly knew what this was and was relieved that the 10,000 dollars was scammed out of him.
The sound of the door behind him snapped him back to reality. He turned to see Theodore, still sad with the constant reminder that he would never be happy in his own body. Ned shook his head and remembered who the gift was for, his friend. So, he hid the vial in his hand and walked to Theodore's bedroom door. His heart continued to race, as he took one last gulp and walked through it.
"Theodore ... I have to tell you something." Ned said as his heart raced through his chest.
"Not now, Ned. I don't want to talk." Theodore laid on his bed, as depressed thoughts raced through his head.
Ned raised his voice, not in anger, but in a frustrated excitement. "Theodore! It's important! Please..."
Theodore was shocked to hear his friend. Ned would hardly raise his voice like that Theodore sighed to look over at his friend. "What ... what do you want?"
Ned's heart continued to race and his face was red for giving the small outburst. "Um ... well ... um ... I was gonna wait for Christmas but, seeing you depressed like this ... I don't think I should wait." Ned raised the vial.
Theodore looked at the vial with the same hypnotized look that Ned had only moments ago. He sat up on his bed and slowly moved towards his friend. His hand carefully reached out and he took it from Ned's hand. "What is this..." Theodore said in a trance-like state.
"I know this is gonna sound crazy but ... I promise you this is real. It's ... um ... a potion ... to give you the body of your dreams." Ned's gulped hoping his friend wouldn't think he was crazy. But, Theodore knew it had to be true, as the voices in the vial began to talk to him. "Drink it. Drink it and have your dreams come true." The voices hissed. And, without saying a word Theodore opened the vial and drank it.
Ned looked in shock, as Theodore did it without hesitation. "How do you feel?" He gasped. Theodore just looked blankly. "I don't know ... I don't feel anything." He began to say as he felt a burning sensation growing in his stomach.
Theodore's eyes began to glow in the same dimmed blue light from the vial. Ned looked on in horror, as he saw the veins throughout Theodore's body begin to glow in a similar blue light. And then, Theodore fell onto the floor. He yelled out in pain, as the burning sensation grew and spread throughout his body. "Oh my God, oh my God ..." Ned cried out not knowing what to do. Theodore's body fell flat, as his body began to seize. His body moved as if things were crawling inside of him. His muscles were flexing and relaxing. His bones were breaking and reforming. He screamed for it to stop and fell into unconsciousness.
Ned looked in horror. The thought that he killed his friend began to fill his mind. He rushed down to flip Theodore on his back. He placed his hand on Theodore's chest and felt his heart racing incredibly fast ... as if it was going to explode. His body was still seizing and his skin moving. The sounds of bones breaking could still be heard. But, now there was shifting.
The look of shock began to fade, as Ned saw his friend transforming right in front of his eyes. The heat of the transformation began to tan Theodore's pasty skin. With each flex, Theodore's body inflated like a muscular balloon. His arms and legs flexed with power. His abs became chiseled from the blank canvass of his stomach. His pecs ballooned up. His shoulders become broad and strong. His face lost the nerdy qualities, as it became more chiseled and angular. His hairless body looked good stretched by the new muscle. And, his face was graced with a new beard that added to his new manly charm. He wasn't the same 5'6 lanky freshman nerd. Now he could pass as any of the other 6'4 alpha jocky seniors.
As the transformations ended, the glow in Theodore's body began to fade. But, he still remained unconscious. Ned looked in awe and blushed as he could see his friend's new body, especially since Theodore's clothes have been ripped from the growth of the transformation. An equally impressive cock hung from his exposed pelvis. Ned pushed on his muscular chest. "Hey ... um ... Theodore ... are you okay."
Ned began to awake to the voice of his friend. And, the weak force of being pushed on the chest. He felt his pecs flex as a response to being touched. But, his mind was still recovering from passing out and a fog of confusion clouded his mind. "Fuck! What happened?" He groaned in a deep new baritone. He jumped into a sitting position as he held his new muscular throat. "What's wrong with my voice?" He looked over at Ned. Ned looked back and just smiled "It worked!"
Theodore looked down at his body. He gasped. He began to rub his hands along the curves of his muscles. His cock began to harden, as he took in his new body. He was like a Greek statue that was carved by the gods themselves. He jumped up and ran to the mirror. His cock slapped against his thighs as he did. He felt his heart glow with pure happiness; he could cry. His face was perfect. He looked like the version of himself that he always wished for. This was his dream body.
Ned walked into the restroom after him, now towered by his friend. And, Theodore just turned around to hug him. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you." He cheered as he lifted Ned up. "I don't know how I'll ever pay you back."
"Maybe you can let me play with that cock." Ned laughed as a joke like they'd normally do. Even though there wasn't a chance for a relationship ... They both were young gay men. And, getting dates was hard so it wasn't strange for them to help each other out. But, Theodore felt a pit of disgust in his stomach. "Um ... sure man ... I guess ... it's the least I can do." Theodore said.
Ned smiled as he led Theodore back to the couch. Ned began to rub Theodore's body. He moaned, "Fuck I can't believe I'm actually rubbing the body of a jock."
Theodore felt weirded out. "Um ... yeah ... it feels good." He nervously laughed. His muscles flexed in discomfort, as Ned moved towards his cock. With Ned's hand wrapped around the cock. Theodore's cock began to get limp. There was absolutely no pleasure in having Ned worship him. "What's wrong ... you know I give the best hand jobs." Ned joked just thinking his friend must be tired. "You're probably exhausted from the transformation."
Theodore peps up as he finds a reason to end this. "Yeah, you're right ... I'm feeling really drained and my body is still kinda sore ... I should probably go to sleep." He lies and does a fake yawn. He stood up and walked into his room.
Ned looked disappointed but understood. "Maybe ... I can worship you later. " He weakly smiled. But, Theodore didn't respond. Ned just sighed but was glad his friend was finally happy. He turned on some TV but, moments later he heard deep manly grunting coming from Theodore's room. Part of him felt confused and the other part felt hurt.
Theodore in his room laid in his bed. His mind flooded with images of his new body. He closed his eyes and got hard feeling his new strength. His hand wrapped around his thick long cock. New images began to fill his head. For the first time, the thought of naked women graced his mind. He imagined touching their curvy bodies and sucking on thier breast. He'd imagined shoving his massive cock into their pussies and stretch them out. He pumped faster and faster. His bed creaked under his muscular weight. He couldn't help but groan in pleasure. His cock erupted in a burst of cum. Laying down, he catches his breath. He rubs the cum onto his thighs.
Energy rushed through his body. And, he knew what he needed. He got his gym clothes that were now tight on him and perfect for showing off his body. He rushed out of his room and headed to the gym. Ned tried to call out as he left the door but Theodore was too fast.
Theodore went to the gym and it was the first time he walked in there with confidence. He walked up to different machines and tested the amount of weight he could do with each. Other gym bros looked at him and gave him nods to show they were impressed. He smiled as he nodded back. A few of the frat guys walked up to him. They were impressed and asked for tips to get a body like his. He was shocked as he began to talk about knowledge of working out that he never had. He even joined in when they talked about hot girls, working out at the gym, and other topics he used to have little to no interest in. Finally he felt like one of the guys.
As the night came to an end, a group frat guys, that were keeping an eye on him, invited him out for drinks. He was beyond happy, as he agreed to hang out with them. He walked into the bar and people just came up to him; girls that thought he was hot and guys that were just impressed by him. The frat guys looked at him like he could potentially be a new recruit. And, this new life of meeting and hanging out with people would continue into the following weeks.
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Both men would realize that reality started shifting. The old Theodore never existed. He was always this hunky popular jock. Him being roommates with Ned was a glitch in the computers system. Him hanging out with his nerdy friends was due to bets he lost, with Ned. The only person that remembered the truth were Ned and Theodore.
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Theodore was getting ready to head out to party, as Ned walked into the room. "Where are you going ... it's D&D night. We still have to get the rest of the gang to remember you." Ned said with a worried tone.
"Ned! They don't remember me. They think I just lost bets to you and was forced to play. We can try to get them to remember later. But, I just want to go and party. I want to hit on girls. Those frat guys wanted to talk to me again ... I can't waste this body and not do the things I've always wanted to do."
"What girls? You're gay?" Ned said shocked.
"I'm not any more ... i don't really get it. But, i think my dream body is straight. I always thought it would be easier to live as a straight man ... so I guess thr vial even took that into consideration." Theodore explained.
"You know what? Fine! Just go ... be magically straight and have fun." Ned said annoyed. "But, you are still going with me to get presents for the gang tomorrow right ..."
"Yeah, sure ... just get out of my room" Theodore brushed him off.
Ned went off to play D&D. The thought of losing his friend filled his mind. All the missed lunch dates, not sitting together in class, and Theodore hardly being home ... made Ned regret what he did. He should have never gotten that transformation serum.
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The next day they both went to the mall together. Ned was excited to finally spend time with his friend. But, the whole day, Theodore was distracted on his phone, texting girls and getting details on parties happening tonight. Ned even caught Theodore stealing glances at his reflection. Everytime Ned would ask about a gift, Theodore would respond with "Sure whatever. And, as the time passed, Ned just got more and more annoyed. "Let's just go." He said after having enough.
"Good, I really couldn't stand this nerdy shit." Theodore yawned and stretched, as he was ready to go.
Ned waited until they got to the parking lot. "Your an ass ... you know that" He yelled.
"Bro, what the fuck is your problem. And for the last time ... I go by Theo now!" Theo yelled back.
"Really! BRO? Am I your Bro? Cause you could have fooled me. If you didn't want to come with me and do this nerdy shit! You could have just said so." Ned shouted back.
Theodore realizes what he said. But, it was true ... he didn't care about the things he used to he. He wondered if he even cared about them in the first place. Or was it just a product of looking nerdy and trying to fit in with the people he looked like. All he knew was that he finally be the man he always wanted to be. "Bro, it's nothing like that ... we are just different now. I mean ... it was bound to happen. Look at you and then look at me. We dont exactly fit in each others lives anymore. " Theo explained, poorly.
"What the hell does that mean? You don't want to be my friend anymore ... are you too cool now? Fuck ... THEO ... I guess fine ... you can have your wish. I'll leave you alone. Well just live two separate lives. And, then next year when you graduate ... I'll never see you again. Is that what you want?"
Theo felt bad. He still had these memories with Ned. But, he knew ... no matter how much it sucked ... they had nothing in common anymore. Maybe it was best for them to split ways. "It's okay Ned, I know your angry. I can never repay you for this life you gave me. But, it's true ... I don't think I can be your friend anymore. I was gonna tell you. I got accepted into the frat... I was going to be moving out anyways. You know, being around guys like myself. And, then switching my degree to sports medicine so I can be a trainer. Also, I have this girl I've been seeing. So ... I'll always remember you. But, I don't know were to fit you in my life." He sighed and paused. He didn't want it to end like this. He didn't want to make a scene. But, he knew he wasn't going to change. And, he knew that Ned wasn't going to change. He started again. "And, here take the keys to drive home. I'm going to the bar and I'll Uber back." Theodore sighed ... a bit disheartened that he isn't as sad as he should have been. He's losing his lifelong friend. But, he could see no other path.
Theodore began to walk away. "Fuck you Theo ... Theodore ... whoever the fuck you are." Ned said, as he walked to the car.
Theodore walked back to the edge of the mall and saw his new frat bros. "Yo bro, what the fuck was that about?" One of them ask.
"Oh, it's just some nerd ... you know how they can be ..." He weakly laughed.
"Hey, isn't he that fag ...yeah ... he's that loser. He's always checking you out. And, stalking you. We should teach him a lesson." Another adds.
"No ... guys ... let's just go get a drink. Look at him ... he can't hurt anyone." He tries to stop his bros. But, they ignore him and head towards Ned.
They begin to harass him and call him names. Theo is in the back looking at it all happened. They call him fag. They push him against the car and punch his stomach. Ned looked at Theodore with a sense of being betrayed. Theo looks away and hears Ned's cries of pain. He can't take it ... as his heart races. His hands ball up. Finally, deep emotion reaches his heart. He can't let his best friend go through this. He can't become the bully he always hated. It was his time to be the hero that deserved a body like his.
"Hey, Theo get a punch in ... show this fag you want nothing to do with him." His posse laughed.
Theo released his punch. Ned closed his eyes fearing the punch from his ex friend. But, the punch never came. Instead one of the jocks cried out. Ned opened his eyes to see Theo fighting off the bullies. The surprise attack gave him an advantage. "Hurry up and get to the car." He yelled to Ned. Ned ran.
The tides began to turn as the three guys begin to over power Theo. Theo took. punches to the face and body. But, he didn't know how much more he could take. Then a honk of a horn rang through the parking lot, as Ned charged the car towards the direction of the fight. The frat guys ran off, as Ned stopped in time. "We'll get you fags later." They yelp.
"Get in." Ned yells to Theo.
Theo stumbles to the car. Ned, quickly, drives drives off. And, they sit in silence.
"Thanks for coming back for me." Theo coughs.
"Well, thanks for saving me." Ned tears up.
"I'm sorry it was my fault ... if i never hung out with them ... they wouldn't have done that." Theo says guiltily.
"I mean you couldn't have known ... but, I'm sorry you lost your new friends and chance to be in the frat." Ned also says guiltily
"I mean who needs friends like them ... when I got a life time of memories with you." Theo smiles.
"But, your right we have nothing in common anymore ... heck you're not even gay anymore." Ned frowns.
Theo thinks hard. "We'll why don't we go play video games ... you still like call of duty right." Theo continues to smile.
Ned perks up. "Yeah!? Do you?"
"I mean yeah it got guns and killing shit with your bros ... so I guess we still got video games in common ... and we can work from there. And, yeah I might be straight. But, I've learned a lot of guys at the gym like twinky guys like you. I can hook you up." Theo smiles.
"That would be great ... so what does this mean? Are we are still friends?" Ned shyly says.
Theodore sighs, "If you still want to be ... I'm sorry with how I was acting. I let being cool go to my head. I won't lie our friendship might be a bit different ... but it been one we had for years. I'm still willing to make this work. And, trust I got other peeps I've been hanging out with ... not just those assholes. Some of them are actually really cool and wouldn't mind hanging out with you. I can get us invited to parties and shit." He paused and looked out the windoe. "I'm not like them ... the frat guys. I guess I was just blinded my suddenly being cool. I was excited that people wanted to hangout with me. But, I wasn't asking if they were decent enough to hang out with." Theo apologized.
"I mean ... I guess I understand. And, i forgive you. And, I don't want to give up on our friendship either ... so yeah ... we are still friends. And, Maybe your coolness can rub off on me." Ned laughed.
Theo rolled his eyes, "Yeah, Maybe ... but it would take a miracle." He tussled Ned's hair. As the two friends drove back to their apartment. Their lives and friendship might be different but, they new they'd make it work out some how.
Hello, everyone. It's been a long minute. Don't know you remembers me or cares, lol ... I'm thinking about getting into writing again. How is everyone doing?
(Hello, everybody! I hope you all like this story. It's one of a two part collaboration with the incredible @swap-meet. His part should be up within the coming day so, be on the look out. Without further to do here we go...)
I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't know how it got to that point. But, I hated my life. I was trapped in a feeder - feedee relationship.
All I knew was that I never wanted that for my life. I missed being fit. Being able to do things I couldn't anymore. I missed going to work ... instead of sitting at home, watching tv and eating non stop. I misssd my old life. But over the course of the past 5 years, I've become just some kinky abomination for my boyfriend.
Mark was perfect at the start. He was very loving and always wanted to take me out to eat for our dates. It started with him encouraging me to eat little more. And once I moved in, he wanted me to stop going to the gym so, we could spend more time together. Before I knew it I had a starter gut.
That's when he said he had a feeder kink. But, I was so in love with him and how he treated me. I let him get me fat. As time went on, however; he becoming less loving. Eventually, he only saw me as a weird sex object. I became way fatter than I wanted. I told him I wanted to stop but he only became more aggressive. Telling me that one day he'll make me immobile. The worst part is I couldn't leave him. I was tied to him emotionally, socially, and financially.
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So, I did something crazy. I downloaded a new app called Mutual Swap. I knew nobody was gonna wanna be in my fat body, so I used an old picture of myself ... from before I started dating Mark. I felt bad about lying. But, it wasn't like I planned on making the swap permanent ... I just needed a break.
Then I met Jordan, through the app. His profile picture was incredibly hot. The way he drank in luxury. The way he leaned back, showing off his body. He had the life I wanted. And, I couldn't believe he wanted to swap bodies with me. But, to be fair, he was looking at an old picture of me. I didn't get my hopes up, though.
You see, Mutual Swaps has a safety feature that allows any of the people involved to end a swap earlier than the agreed upon time. So, I had tried swaping bodies before, through the app. But, as soon as someone saw they were in my real body, they swapped back, immediately. So with Jordan I thought, Fuck it. It's still worth a try. Even a second in some else's body was worth it.
I got comfortable and sat up in bed. And pushed the button, agreeing to the swap. I waited a few seconds. Then I saw that he also confirmed. My vision went black.
As, I woke up. I looked around and I was in a beautiful hotel. My new body was perfect. I couldn't wait to have some fun. A few minutes passed and I was surprised that Jordan hasn't forced us to swap back. I thought I got lucky, with an an understanding guy. Until, there was a big bang at the door. The door cracks open, as police swarm my room. At that moment, I realized why he didn't swap back. He didn't want to go to jail.
"Jordan Rogers you are under arrest." They proceeded to handcuff me. They read me my rights. But, I tried to explain the situation, to them. I begged them to search the phone. However, the asshole set a timer to digitally fry it. Everything was scrubbed off the phone, including the app and all our talks of setting up the body swap.
Jordan obviously pissed them off. They are treating me like I'm one of the worst people on earth. They keep telling me I'm going away for the rest of my life. Everytime I try to tell them the truth, about the body swap ... I get roughed up. They think I'm trying to build an insanity case. But, I just want my body back. I can't survive prison. I don't even know the crimes I'm paying for, but they can't be good. My trail is gonna start next month. So, I guess that is when I'll learn the crimes I'm being made to pay. Now, I'm just sitting in a jail cell wishing I never downloaded that app, in the first place.
Celeb TF Game (Rules: Last Male Celeb you looked at... You are now them!)
Well here is a very neat question I just came up with while writing my last plot… what celebrity would you be put in the body of? The rules? It’s the last celeb you have seen, lets just say male due to what I write… me? Well I got a k-pop star named Junkook that came across my timeline, I don’t mind it at all!
Who did you get and what will you do in your new body? I’m gonna ride this k-pop thing for a while then maybe try acting in some drama shows and then… retire early and relax.
Looks like the Doctor is in! Looks like my body swap got hit with some time stone shenanigans. I’m found myself in the middle of filming the movie. Don’t worry I won’t spoil anything.
pixelskylines
titsay
romaincrisis
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