Jolteonyou

NSFW 18+ Gay Reblog. It’s all fantasy.

[muscletheftgod]

“Can I take more muscle from Jimmy tonight?” Ray was hungry to absorb more muscle from his former friend. 

“Please no,” the former giant whined. “I can’t take any more! You’ve taken so much! I came here because you forced me to but you have to stop doing this to me!” Jimmy whined, his voice much higher than it was before.  

“Pipe down, short stuff! You’re not in charge here! So can I, Uncle Steve?” 

“Well, boys,” Uncle Steve began. “When I started you off, I told you both, there was no going back. Jimmy, you were once a swaggering giant jock, and you weren’t a very nice young man, were you? You bullied dozens of other students, especially the fat and thin ones, pretended you were sexually attracted to them in order to get them to do things for you. You lorded your size over Ray here, and ignored him after you had your one night stand together. Now, on top of that, you tried to steal my magic talisman.” 

“You tricked me into using it to begin with! You said you just wanted to talk to me about masculinity for a study! Not…give it all away to your nephew! I don’t deserve this! Isn’t there some way we can work things out? Maybe I can get you another guy to test your magic out on!”

“Oh, Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy,” Uncle Steve began. He came over and put a hand on the boy’s shoulders. Jimmy was now much shorter than he was. He was pleased to see his creation was becoming shorter and weaker with every week. “I don’t think you understand. You see, I can’t use more than one subject to…donate muscle to Ray here. My talisman calls you here. You can’t stop giving Ray muscle…it’s your new addiction. You’ll stop when the ratio becomes too dangerous to continue. Tonight will be the final drain. So…” Uncle Steve said with an evil grin

“Just sit tight, Jimmy. I think you might just enjoy the ride!” 

“No, please! Please! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease!” Jimmy squealed as the evil statue in Uncle Steve’s hands began to glow. The eyes came to life and glowed red and its mouth opened up to suck in Jimmy’s remaining masculinity. He felt himself shrink as he fell below Ray’s belly button. Ray received the gift of the statue as it seemed to perpetually take pleasure in Jimmy’s pain. Ray groaned as he expanded…his muscles engorged on the feast of Jimmy’s spirit energy. It filled him and filled him. He released an incredibly deep voiced groan of pure lust. A thousand workouts filled his body, the energy was enough to make him scream several times in absolute ecstasy. 

“FUCK YEAH!!!” Ray screamed. He beat his chest. Jimmy slumped onto the floor. 

“Your donations have been very helpful, Jimmy. Just look how nice and big Ray is now!” 

Ray was overcome with what could only be described as Muscle Theft Euphoria, a lust so powerful after draining a victim of all their muscle you immediately want to fuck him. 

Ray took Jimmy’s clothes off (it wasn’t hard, they practically fell off his skinny frame) and undid his thong. They had to wear the same type of clothing when the spell was enacted, and now his 9 inch dick was absolutely engorged. He moaned in pleasure when he saw it. His heart was beating a mile a minute. Uncle Steve was ready with some lube. He watched with an evil grin as Ray took Jimmy and unceremoniously fucked him…as he had once been fucked…harder and harder…GOD THIS FELT AMAZING IT WAS LIKE HE WAS A JACKHAMMER FUCK MACHINE OH FUCK YES!!!!

HIs primal grunts and animal pleasure washed over him in waves as he shook violently. Jimmy cried, his tears of shame and loss and the grief over having reduced to this thin little bitch body poured out of him. When he felt Jimmy’s cum blast his insides, the sensation of cum filling his sphincter, something he never even thought possible when he was a top, felt like an enema of cum pumping away at the core of his sexual being. His new fucklord laughed as he popped his dick out of Jimmy, who now knew he was nothing more than a fucktoy boi. Jimmy panted. 

“How could you do this to me?” And upon hearing his girly voice, wept even more. 

“HAHAHAHAHAHA! You sound like a girl! Fuck that was fun, Uncle Steve!” 

Ray put on a shirt over his enormous physique and beat his chest, flexed his arms. 

“Man, I FEEL LIKE A GOD NOW! YEAH! ALL THIS FUCKING MUSCLE IS MINE!!!” 

“It was also necessary in order to complete your new role in life as an omega bitch. You’re going to be Ray’s servant for LIFE, Jimmy. No more parties for you unless you’re cleaning up afterwards. No more fucking anyone. Not with your little one incher, haha!” Uncle Steve picked Jimmy up and carried him out to the garage. Ray followed. They dumped some of Ray’s old clothes onto Jimmy and let him dress as they laughed and pointed out how thin and pathetic looking he now was. 

“Come back here next week, Fuck Toy,” Ray ordered. “I’ll make you my bitch again and you can clean the house.” 

“Yes, and you’ll want to give notice to the dorms that you’ll be moving in here. I doubt any of your jock roommates will ever remember that you were ever one of them now…they’ll think if you as the pathetic fag who was unfortunately paired with them.” Uncle Steve finished. “Now, thank me for taking all that nasty muscle from you and giving it to someone that really can do something with it…a real man.” 

“Thank you for giving all my muscle to a real man,” Jimmy said, bowing his head in obeisance. His entire being had shifted to being completely subservient. 

Ray had a great life to look forward to, and he wondered if he shouldn’t use Uncle Steve’s magic idol on any other guys on campus that could use a “donation”…

[vorecaption]

Parasite Bros

The dorm room was always too small for the three of them, but it wasn’t the cramped space that made Kyle and Josh exchange knowing glances every time Drake walked in.

It was the energy that radiated off him, so palpable it was almost dizzying. Drake was everything they weren’t—confident, muscular, effortlessly charming. He strutted around the room as if it belonged to him, his biceps flexing with every move, his voice dripping with that alpha male swagger that made people either hate him or want to be him. Kyle and Josh? They wanted to take him.

It started small, almost imperceptible. A flicker of warmth when Drake brushed past them, a subtle shift in the air when he laughed too loud. Kyle first noticed it one morning after Drake had spent the night out partying. The guy looked a little less... bright. His tan seemed duller, his usual cocky grin softer, almost forced. Meanwhile, Kyle caught his reflection in the mirror and paused. His cheekbones looked sharper, his jawline more defined. He glanced at Josh, who was staring at him with the same dawning realization.

“Do you feel it too?” Josh asked, his voice low, almost reverent.

Kyle nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from the mirror. Something was happening, something they couldn’t explain but couldn’t deny either. It wasn’t just Drake’s fading vitality. It was the way they were changing, growing. Their muscles felt firmer, their skin clearer, their confidence surging. It was like they were absorbing bits of Drake, piece by piece.

By the end of the week, the changes were undeniable. Drake, who usually dominated the room, seemed quieter, smaller. His once-broad shoulders slumped slightly, his voice less commanding. Meanwhile, Kyle and Josh were thriving. They moved with a newfound grace, their bodies filling out, their energy palpable. It was intoxicating, this power they had over him, this hunger they couldn’t ignore.

“He doesn’t even realize it,” Josh murmured one evening as they watched Drake fumble with his phone, his usual swagger replaced with a quiet frustration. “It’s like he’s... dimming.”

“And we’re glowing,” Kyle added, a sly smile tugging at his lips. He flexed his arm, marveling at the way his bicep strained against his sleeve. It was more defined than it had been last week, more like Drake’s. But not just his muscles—his confidence, his presence, it was all growing, feeding off whatever they were leaching from their roommate.

The first time they realized they were stealing more than just his vitality was after a particularly long night of drinking. Drake had passed out early, his usual bravado drowned in tequila. Kyle and Josh stayed up, their bodies humming with restless energy. They sat on the floor, leaning against each other, their breathing synced in a way that felt almost primal.

“Do you feel it?” Kyle asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t need to elaborate. Josh knew exactly what he meant.

“Yeah,” Josh replied, his hand instinctively moving to his chest. His heart was pounding, his body warm, almost electric. It wasn’t just energy they were drawing from Drake anymore. It was something deeper, something essential. They could feel it coursing through them, reshaping them, making them stronger, bolder, more.

The next morning, Drake looked worse than ever. His hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, his usual arrogance replaced with a hollow emptiness. He barely spoke as he shuffled to the bathroom, his movements sluggish, almost pained. Kyle and Josh exchanged a glance, their eyes gleaming with a hunger they couldn’t—and didn’t want to—control.

“We should stop,” Josh said later, his voice trembling with a mix of guilt and desire. But even as he said it, he knew he didn’t mean it. The sensation was too addictive, too right. It was like they were meant to do this, like they’d been starving their whole lives without even realizing it.

“We can’t,” Kyle replied, his tone firm but soft, almost comforting. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Josh’s arm. The contact sent a shiver through both of them, their connection growing stronger with every touch. “It’s not just about us anymore. It’s about him. He needs us as much as we need him.”

Josh looked at him, his eyes searching for any sign of doubt. But there was none. Kyle’s gaze was steady, his conviction unshakable. They were in this together, bound by something they couldn’t explain but couldn’t escape either.

As the days passed, the changes became impossible to ignore. Drake’s once-ripped physique softened, his muscles shrinking, his energy fading. His voice, once strong and commanding, grew quieter, his laughter less frequent. Meanwhile, Kyle and Josh blossomed. Their bodies grew leaner, more defined, their confidence radiating like a force field. They walked taller, their movements fluid, their presence magnetic. It was power, pure and unfiltered, and they reveled in it.

One night, after another long day of classes, they found themselves alone in the dorm. Drake had gone out, his energy so depleted he barely managed a goodbye. Kyle and Josh sat on their beds, the air between them charged with an intensity they could no longer ignore.

“Do you think he knows?” Josh asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at Kyle, his eyes dark with a mix of guilt and need.

“No,” Kyle replied, his tone calm but firm. He leaned forward, his gaze locking with Josh’s. “But it doesn’t matter. We’re not hurting him. We’re just... taking what he doesn’t need.”

Josh hesitated, his throat tightening. It wasn’t that simple, and he knew it. But the hunger, the need, it drowned out the guilt, leaving only desire. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Kyle’s hand. The contact sent a shock through both of them, their connection deepening, their hunger growing.

“We’re not just taking his energy,” Josh murmured, his voice trembling. “We’re taking him.”

Kyle nodded, his eyes gleaming with a mix of triumph and something darker: greed. “And we’re going to keep taking until there’s nothing left.”

--

The whispers started first. Kyle noticed it in the cafeteria, the way people’s eyes lingered on him a little too long. Girls who’d never given him a second glance before were now giggling as he passed, their cheeks flushing. Guys he’d known for years clapped him on the back, commenting on how he’d “bulked up” since last semester. He’d just smile, shrugging it off, but inside, he felt a thrill. It wasn’t him—not really. It was Drake.

Josh, on the other hand, was less subtle. He caught himself accidentally flexing in the mirror more often, his reflection now more chiseled, more powerful than it had ever been. Even his walk had changed—a confident stride that made heads turn. But as they sat in their dorm room that evening, the weight of it all began to settle.

“People are starting to notice,” Josh said, his voice low as he stared at his hands. His fingers were thicker, stronger, veins subtly popping under the skin. “They’re asking questions. Did you see the way Coach looked at me during practice? Like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.”

Kyle leaned back in his chair, his T-shirt stretched tight over his chest. He’d gone up a size, and the fabric clung to his new muscles in a way that felt both foreign and intoxicating. “Yeah,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair—fuller, thicker now. “But what can we do? We can’t just stop. Not when it feels this good.”

Josh’s eyes flicked to Drake, who was sprawled on his bed, scrolling through his phone. The once-buff jock looked... smaller somehow. His shoulders weren’t as broad, his arms not as defined. Even his usual cocky grin seemed weaker, less sure.

“He’s not as strong as he used to be,” Josh murmured, glancing at Kyle. “Do you think he knows?”

Kyle smirked, a dark glint in his eye. “Does it matter? He’s still got plenty left to give. And we need it. I need it.”

The air between them thickened with unspoken hunger. They’d been feeding off Drake passively for weeks, but now, the thought of taking more—taking it all—was irresistible.

That night, when the dorm was quiet and Drake’s breathing had evened out into sleep, Kyle and Josh exchanged a look. No words were needed. They moved silently, their shared desire a tangible force as they crept toward Drake’s bed.

Josh was first, slipping under the covers, his body pressing against Drake’s. The jock stirred but didn’t wake, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Kyle joined moments later, his own body molding against Drake’s other side. Their hands began to move, almost of their own accord, skimming over Drake’s skin.

It was easy, too easy, to feel the power thrumming beneath their fingers. Drake’s vitality, his strength, his everything, was right there for the taking. Kyle’s hand found Drake’s bicep, and he could feel the muscle there, still impressive but softer now, as though it had been hollowed out. He squeezed, and a rush of energy surged through him, his own arm tensing, growing more defined.

Josh’s breath hitched as he pressed his hand to Drake’s chest, feeling the once-firm pectorals yield under his touch. He could feel the transfer, the shift of power from Drake to him. His own chest swelled, his abs tightening as though he’d just finished a grueling workout.

“He’s weaker,” Josh whispered, his voice trembling with awe and lust. “Can you feel it?”

Kyle nodded, his other hand sliding lower, tracing the lines of Drake’s abs. They were still there, just barely, but barely was enough. As his fingers brushed the skin, he felt the familiar rush, the way his own torso hardened, his muscles becoming more pronounced.

But it wasn’t just the muscles. Kyle’s hand drifted lower still, and he felt the unmistakable stirring in his own pants as he palmed Drake through his boxers. Drake’s cock was still impressive, but it was... off. Smaller. Softer. Kyle’s own erection strained against his jeans, thicker, longer, and impossibly hard.

“God, look at you,” Josh breathed, his hand moving to Kyle’s fly. He unzipped it carefully, pulling out Kyle’s cock and stroking it with a reverence that made Kyle’s breath catch. “Do you see this? It’s... it’s huge.”

Kyle stared down, his heart pounding. His cock was a monster, thick and veiny, curving upward with an almost predatory grace. He’d always been average before, but now? Now he was something else entirely.

“It’s not just me,” Kyle muttered, his voice rough as he reached for Josh’s pants. He freed Josh’s cock, and they both stared in stunned silence. Josh was just as big, just as imposing, their twin erections a testament to what they’d taken from Drake.

“We’re... we’re gods,” Josh whispered, his hand wrapping around his own cock, stroking it slowly. “Look at us. Look at what we’ve become.”

Kyle couldn’t argue. He couldn’t even speak. He just watched as Josh’s hand moved, his own fingers joining the rhythm, their cocks throbbing in unison. They were stealing from Drake, yes, but in that moment, it felt less like theft and more like destiny.

Drake mumbled something in his sleep, his body twitching weakly, but neither Kyle nor Josh paid him any mind. They were too focused on themselves, on their own transformation.

“I... need more man” Kyle moaned.

Kyle’s breath quickened as he yanked Drake’s trousers down, exposing the jock’s firm, rounded ass. His eyes raked over the muscle and skin, now trembling slightly from the energy they’d already drained. Drake’s body was still taut, but there was a vulnerability to it now—a weakness that made Kyle’s cock throb even harder. Without waiting for Josh to react, Kyle spat into his palm and stroked his own massive shaft, the precum already beading at the tip. It glistened in the dim light, a testament to the power coursing through him.

God, I need this, Kyle thought as he positioned himself behind Drake. He pressed the swollen, spongy head of his cock against Drake’s tight hole, feeling the resistance give way as he pushed forward. Drake stirred in his sleep, a faint groan escaping his lips, but Kyle didn’t stop. He couldn’t. The heat of Drake’s body enveloped him, and with each inch he sank in, the drain intensified. It wasn’t just energy—it was something deeper that made Kyle’s vision blur with pleasure.

Josh watched, transfixed, as Kyle’s muscles seemed to ripple with every thrust, growing even more defined. The transfer was palpable, Drake’s strength flowing into Kyle in waves. Josh couldn’t resist; he reached out and gripped Drake’s shoulder, feeling the jock’s vitality slip away as Kyle took what he wanted. Drake’s once-chiseled body was softening under their touch, and the power they gained was intoxicating.

Kyle’s hips moved with slow, deliberate force, each stroke driving him deeper into Drake. The sensation was overwhelming—the tightness, the heat, and the rush of stolen strength all blending into a singular, all-consuming need. Drake’s ass clenched involuntarily, and Kyle groaned, his cock swelling even thicker inside him. He could feel the drain intensifying, his own body growing stronger, more dominant, as Drake’s weakened beneath him.

“Fuck… this is it,” Kyle panted, his voice guttural as he gripped Drake’s hips, pulling him closer. “He’s giving everything to me.”

Josh’s hand moved to his own cock, stroking in time with Kyle’s thrusts. He could feel the energy in the room, the shift of power that left them both breathless. Drake was fading—they could feel it—but the hunger inside them was only growing. And as Kyle drove deeper, they both knew there would be others. Others who could give them what they craved. And as they lay there, their bodies thrumming with stolen strength, they couldn’t help but wonder... how far could they go? How much could they take?

The need to leech was insatiable.

[muscularguns]

[curratedcollection25]

He was the typical All American Jock in high school and part of the popular crowd. He dated a few girls and even tried sex with a couple of them. They would be making out, getting into it, he’d get hard, but it never got to penetrative sex with them. Not that they didn’t want to, he was always the one to back off. He’d make some excuses about wanting to wait. The truth was every time he got to that point of trying to put his dick into one of the girls he would lose his erection.

He spent countless hours thinking about that. Why? What did that mean? And many more unanswered questions.

After graduating he decided to join the Army instead of going to university with his friends. He had hated school and the thought of four more years of it was too much for him.

Fast forward 2 years…basic training was tough but he was at the top of his class. He eventually got posted to a base in Germany where he made new friends. One night when a few of them were out on a weekend pass, they got drunk and decided to rent a hotel room in town.

After that night he had finally gotten answers to those questions that had haunted him since high school…

[whatshewontdo]

Why are you always trying to be so secretive? What’s the matter? You afraid all your friends will find out what a nasty freak you are. You afraid to tell all your perfect bodied gym buddies what kinda body turns you on. Surrounded by all these Instagram models and all you can think about it my big heavy mature Daddy body. You want to lift my gut and sniff that nasty crease. You’re afraid someone will find out that the good boy persona is an act a mask you wear. Cause deep down you’re a pig. You are addicted to a married straight man’s body odor. What would your class mates think of you if they find out you like me to sit my sweaty unwashed ass on your face and smother you under my full weight. So many guys have a crush on you, nice young fit guys, and yet here you are on your knees in front of the lazy heavy married man drooling on yourself because my pits are rank. I love that you can’t help yourself. That I make you so fucking horny you just keep going lower and lower. Tell that boy who asked for your number you’d rather lick the underside of my nutsack than be in a healthy relationship.

[joenateuser]

CHARLIE BESSO via Luke Gilford

[maningup]

The Hot Guy Next Door

DAMN do I love Braden! I’ve always liked him. I sat on my porch when he cut the grass and now, I was on my back patio watching him do yard work. He had pulled off his shirt and left himself on display. When he went away to college earlier this year, I missed him so bad. Why did he have to be a year ahead of me? The dude was always built, but I overheard his parents telling mine he had joined a frat. No idea what that frat had done to him, but he came back as a Greek god. Muscles everywhere. If I played sports like him, I would have tackled him and licked those abs. He went into his shed and came out with a dirt barrel.

Spring break was honestly just too short. I wish I had applied to Braden’s college, but it was mostly a sports college and to be honest, I’m athletically challenged. My little brother got the athletic genes in the family. Though his love was for soccer. As for me,  Being a high school senior  with a college freshman of man meat for a next-door neighbor. I guess that’s what college did; took boys and brought them back as men. My cock was aching. I was only fantasizing about Braden’s sweaty abs that I didn’t even notice when the real Braden was in my backyard. He had easily hopped over his fence and was looking at me.

“Hey Hugo,” He had a cocky grin on his face as he blatantly stared at my tented shorts. “That for me?”  My jaw dropped as he chuckled. “What? Should I say it in Spanish.” He joked.

“If you could, that’d make me nut on the spot.”  Normally, I’d be fumbling but if he was going to be blatant so would I.

He threw his arm across his washboard abs and laughed. I made sure to watch how his muscles flexed. That’s when I noticed, clutched in his hand was his shirt from earlier. His sweat must have seeped into it by now. It had been wrapped around the lawn mower earlier but thankfully he’d brought it closer.

 “You can have this,” He held his shirt out.

“Huh?”

“I think you’ll appreciate it.” He winked before walking back to his yard. He put in his earphones then grabbed a barrel of dirt returning back to his work. The moment I was out of his sight I ran back into my house. I was never going to wash that shirt!!! The gods had looked down on me today. When I passed my little brother, I fucking launched myself over him to get to the steps and bolted. The kid didn’t see me coming as I hopped over him like an obstacle on a track. That’s what happened when you put a 10-year-old in my path. I slammed the door to my room inhaling the scent, spinning around. I fell back onto my bed. Laying there breathing in his smell would have been enough for me.

“Hugo, Hugo!” My mom called from downstairs. “It’s your turn to take Shelly for a walk. I wanted to ask if my dad or. Jose could do it. Sure, he was 10 but mom could walk with him? But there was no arguing against mom when always won. Sighing I kicked the door to my room open.  I left the shirt on my bed so I could sadly look at it as I walked downstairs. Taking Shelly’s leash I met her by the door wrapping it around her neck.  When we headed out I could still hear Braden working in his backyard.

While I was on my walk. I felt great. Normally, it was a slough for me to get back home, but the air and  the sun were tingling my skin. Looking up I realized there were barely any clouds in the sky. I lifted an arm to block out the light. A gasp escaped my lips and my arm had muscle. There was a true bicep there. Curious as to how that happened, I lifted my shirt. I had four abs. Never in my life had I been that fit. There was a small inkling in my mind that it was Braden’s shirt. No logic, just me being purely horny. I was bound to rush home, but Shelly certainly had other ideas. Dogs do whatever they want whenever they want no respect for their horny teenage owners.

By the time I actually did get home, I could immediately tell something was off. First of all my Mom, who had been downstairs cooking dinner, was gone. She never left while food was on she hated that her personal pet peeve. I went into the kitchen to make sure the stove was off. Spotting the oven dials and even opening it up there wasn’t  anything in there. Weird cause I thought I had smelt some food before leaving. Shelly abandoned me once she realized the walk was truly over. I called for mom and dad but no answer. Neither of them were home? Bad singing. Like grandma fell down the stairs badly. But even then, they would have called or at least texted.

“Jose?” I asked.

There was a shuffle of feet up stairs. I knew that panicked shuffle and where it was coming from. My room. That little twerp had snuck into my room. I thought he was overdoing that. As I walked up the stairs. I got a bit of vertigo. It was like the house had a small earthquake. Then I rushed up. “Hey are you okay?”  throwing my door open.

The inside of my room is completely different. There were a few trophies around and the sheets and walls were different. My pictures that I had up of me and some of my friends were gone. In fact, there was nothing that belonged to me here. My room had been vandalized! Where was my shit?

And laying on what used to be my bed was a tall guy. He sat up pulling off his shirt. He was hot as hell, rich brown skin, warm brown eyes, and slick black hair. And his torso was now on display. Perfect black boy hairs matched the same follicles covering his face. Shouting stranger danger would have been smart, but I was too mesmerized in that moment to think. Like how the guy even got in my house.

“I didn’t do it,” The man threw the shirt away from him. Turning to where it landed, I noticed it was MY SHIRT, rather the one Braden had just given me. The way the guy moved and seemed to shrink under my presence like he was deferring to me immediately gave me déjà vu. I knew that body language. No matter how big it got.

“Jose?”

“I just wanted to come into your room, then I saw the shirt.” Jose was studying his larger body and turning over his hands.

“What the hell did you—

I stopped talking. Then I examined my own body again, the small muscle that had grown on me. I only noticed it after the shirt. Walking over to it I picked it up off the floor. I couldn’t smell Braden on it anymore. Trust me, I took deep whiffs and I got nothing. Instead, there was another smell emanating in the room. It was coming from Jose. The short no longer smelled but my brother smelt like he had been in the sun. Not like a terrible BO smell but the smell of heat and sweat.

“Look what I can do!” Jose shouted. He fell back on the bed lifting one leg up. With longer limbs he certainly had gotten flexible. My brother is a hot guy now. I mean when he opened his legs, I finally realized hot people should be illegal.

 Walking over to him, I examined more of my room,  “We gotta take you to a hospital, probably call mom and dad too. Cause I have no idea what’s going on here.”

“Ah wait, you shouldn’t,” He said suddenly sitting up in his bed to grab my wrist before I dialed anything in my cell phone. He took his hand off my wrist. “They’re off on their date.”

“Date, what date?” Did dad suddenly surprise mom with something while I was out, that was from out of nowhere.

Jose eyebrows lowered as he seemed to be intensely thinking about something, “ You know… they always go on dates, keep them busy so they don’t have to think about being empty-nesters soon.”

“Empty-nesters? Who taught you that word? Also how are they going to be empty nesters, you’re 10?”

“10? That sounds right but it doesn’t feel right.” He lifted up one of the trophies from the side of his bed. After staring at it he rested on his leg. I thought he was going to say more but he sort of zoned out looking at me like his mind wasn’t even there. At first, I thought he was playing a prank, but he didn’t respond to me or even react when I waved my hand in his face. As I got closer, I took the time to stare at the trophy. It was his trophy or at least his name was on it. I sorted through the other ones. They all had his name on them. My room had become my brothers. I backed away in shock.

Braden’s shirt morphed in my hands into a soccer jersey.

My brother snapped back to reality. “ I knew you wanted to see my trophies!” He kept talking but it was like he had started from the middle of a conversation we weren’t having.

Before I could ask anything, my stomach released a growl

“Oh shoot! You’re hungry, why didn’t you say so.Then again, my bad probably should have started dinner.  I’ll go make something.”

“Since when can you cook?” I trailed him out of my room he trotted down stair while

“That’s just college life man,” He stated.

I stopped before heading down the steps after him. I peeked into my other brother’s actual room. Sure enough, most of my things had been migrated there. There were a few weights on the floor which I had never seen in my life. I didn’t go downstairs until the smell of food became unbearable. I needed to eat before I could process all this. I had just come downstairs and passed by the door then there was a knock. By now it had to be at least 7:00pm. The food was calling me but I decided to be gracious and answer the door.

Standing there grinning was Braden. “ Welcome to the frat bro!” He said before stopping and cocking his head to the side. “You don’t look…didn’t you put on my shirt?”

“I knew it was your shirt! What did you do to my little brother?”

“Oh shit, little Jose got it?” He scratched his head.

“Well, I don’t know if the term little applies anymore.”  I grumbled.

“Hey who’s at the door?” My brother walked out of the kitchen still shirtless. Once he locked eyes with Braden he paused. “Oh, hey man,” He nodded before disappearing back into the kitchen.

“Looks like he ended up a soccer player.” Braden’s eyes shifted to me. “Would have been great to have you on the football team though.”

“What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

“Well, my frat just got a new brother. Perhaps you should be glad you didn’t get my shirt, I mean shit! Your brother just rocketed through puberty. He’s probably a Junior or senior. You would have ended up beyond college. That’s my bad though, I didn’t think I was so potent.”

I was left aghast as. Braden took off with just a pat on my back. Trying to convince Jose he had been my kid brother once was pointless. Him and the rest of the world believe he had been born before me. He was my talented older brother, the golden child.  Even at the end of spring break my mind hadn’t healed when my brother rode off to college with Braden in what should have been my spot! As Braden pulled off he smiled at me. “See you in the summer.” Before driving off leaving me with a wink.

[dombottom]

I’ll admit it… maybe I am a bit too controlling. I mean just about the only thing you can do without my permission is breath…but let’s think about it, when I met you, you were a two pump chump. A few sweaty trusts and you were cumming and falling asleep with a sweaty forehead. After I enslaved your cock and body, I’ve completely transformed you into a fuck machine… and I mean machine, it must have been frustrating at first when you realized how infrequently you’d be cumming, and beyond that how you’d almost never be having orgasms. Just ruined pleasureless cumming to ensure you recharge faster. At least you get to enjoy watching me having different kinds of orgasm. Anal, prostate, penile… The trick was to get you to understand that your goal during sex is the fucking, not the cumming. Once I got you completely addicted to my ass training started to progress faster. You’re better at serving me… You are fixated on getting to fuck, you’re content to just keep going with no climax. Climax means having to stop… that’s a no no. 1 lick of my asshole was enough motivation for you to clean my entire apartment. So yes I’m controlling but you’re so much better when I make all your choices. Come forward, pull my underwear down. I really want to tease you until you’re so desperate for my ass that you lose your mind. Judging by how crazy your eyes look just seeing my cheeks it won’t take long…

[dawgz-of-tiktok]

Viet Twink gives us another view of his beautiful Dawgz 👣 🥰

[breedertfs-deactivated20240831]

Away With Anxiety

“I wish I could stop feeling so anxious when my brother comes around with all his friends.”

Miles sighs as he turns down his cherry pop music, already grimacing at the lewd taunts and jeers he can hear coming from downstairs. The last thing he needs is for his brother, Mark, and his pack of bros to come and pull a prank on him again. The twink shudders as he remembers one particular sleepover, waking up to a hairy asshole puckering right in front of his shocked face, and not at all the kind the gay man wanted to rim. He barely had time to mutter a question before a hot stream of air encased his head in the fetid musk, shooting the raw stench of protein and Mexican food up his nose. Even now, his nostrils burn from the memory. Guys like that only know how to think with their muscles and their cocks, so amused by their own bodies that even farts and burps are enough to start a whole conversation about. He hears them now, feet thumping on the ground loudly as they shift their hulking frames about, blasting protein farts out of their asses. “Wait, dudes, listen! Mine are way louder than Brad’s.”

He groans, rubbing his fingers against his temples, remembering the wish he just made only moments ago. Back turned to the window, he misses the shooting star that passes overhead, but he feels the sudden rush of heat that takes over his body.  He leans forward, a weird feeling pulsing inside of his stomach, like energy that is begging to be set free. “I wouldn’t feel so anxious if they didn’t make fun of me for being short,” his mouth says against his will, as if that was the answer he had been hoping for. But he feels the itch along his shins, the steady creak of bone that causes him to stare down in panic, a hot flash of pain and then pleasure as he feels himself rising to stand taller. No longer resting averagely in the middle of five foot and steadily surpassing six, going further still. He once heard Mark’s friends say a real alpha dude should at least be six foot and then have enough extra inches to match the length of his cock. His memories shift slightly, his frame still lithe and thin, but now he recalls always having been built like a beanpole. His joints burn in pure bliss, his frame reforming. He’s stood six foot and eight inches as long as he can remember.

Miles gasps as his cock instantly thickens to the width of a beer can and shoots up to a solid eight inches, bobbing up and down and rubbing against the mesh material of his red shorts. He is torn between fear and confusion and pure arousal, forgetting that he had been wearing denim shorts only moments ago, now going commando and spreading his long, thin legs wide. “Oh my god,” he pants, suddenly struck with the libido and horniness of a man with an insatiable fat cock, his large body desperate to release and gain energy. “I wouldn’t feel so anxious if I was just as muscular as them.” Once again, his voice speaks on its own accord, now a little harsher and with more of a bovine, broish vocal fry. He is powerless to stop himself from giving in to the wave of energy, barely having the time to run a hand along his suddenly bare, shirtless, bony chest before said thin chest suddenly explodes into a set of two meaty pecs. His sausage like fingers grip to them tightly, enjoying the jutting of his sensitive nipples against his calloused palms, the way he can feel his bloating biceps rubbing against the sides of his wide torso, chafing, his thighs closing the gap, his ass becoming a globe worth worshipping. He sniffs, smelling a wafting cloud of sweat and man musk, and he can’t stop himself from lifting his arms and breathing in deep, the effort of his transformation causing the newly massive, hunky young man to sweat loads from his every pore.

“And you know what else, bitch boy?” the crude voice chides, reaching down to adjust his bulge in his shorts, enjoying the feeling of his low hanging, heavy bull nuts swaying as his cock lurches forward and back. “I don’t feel anxious knowing we all share the same interests. I’ve been part of the crew since day one, man, why the fuck were you even worrying over this shit?” Miles’ face twists with anger and annoyance, and he panics within himself as he begins to lose mobility over his body. Miller begins to override the last vestiges of the twink he once was, his form repurposing into an exact replica of the trademark stereotype of his older bro and his best friends. He doesn’t feel nervous at all, in fact he wants to be done and over with this shit so he can go and hang, to talk about all the chicks they wanna knock up- wait, what? “Well, duh, dude. I’m not anxious when they talk like pigs about girls because that’s how I talk about girls. The only purpose for their cunts is for me to seed them. I’m the biggest pussy hound of the bunch.” Miles wails on the inside, his identity and his sexuality being shoved into a faraway prison within his mind, making way for Miller to strut his stuff and pass on his superior genes to the next generation. Babes love choking on his cock so much that it would be cruel to deprive them of it. Miller moans loudly as he bucks his hips, not caring about coming across as lewd. To him, there’s nothing better than watching a bimbo sway back and forth as he rams his length in and out of her dripping slit, watching her breasts jiggle. Miles wants to cry and claw his way out of the cage he’s been shoved into, but Miller simply needs to take a shit.

He lets a fat one rip without a second thought, lifting a tree trunk sized, hairy leg and scrunching his face. He can feel the hot hiss of air leave his ass, the familiar stench of rotten eggs and protein and spice wafting into his nose, making his new host and master breathe in proudly with smug satisfaction. “Brad and Jacob can both eat my sweaty hairy ass, we all know my farts are the loudest. I’m not anxious about that, for sure. I’m the smelliest guy in the locker room.” He flexes his biceps, staring in admiration at his swollen muscles, enjoying the sight of his dripping, matted armpit hairs just beneath that. Miles would have never stood for allowing himself to get this grimy and hairy and bloated, but that’s exactly why he had always been so nervous in the real world, wasn’t it? Of course he felt anxious around superior men; only fellow alphas can stand with the pack. As far as Miller cares to think about it, Miles is better off being scared inside his head than on the outside. That’s what his toxic masculinity tells him anyway, repress any feelings and only care about the grind. He pulls out his phone, now changed to a basic black case with a cracked screen, matching the basic and low maintenance decorations of his new room. Tubs of protein powder and weights litter the ground and shelves, posters of babes he has jacked off to more times than he can count gazing down at him. He messages a few of the chicks he’s hoping to fuck at the rager tonight, pawing his meaty bulge and letting loose another sputtering, rank fart from his asshole.

“Oh, shit! I think Miller is up, bros, plug your fuckin’ noses.”

He laughs and bounds down the stairs, ignoring the pleas of the dweeby voice inside his head and relishing in the energy of being around his bros, wanting nothing more than their attention and camaraderie. He still needs to shit, but now he wants to do it in the downstairs bathroom with the door open, just so his bros can hear just how not anxious he is being around them.

Wish granted, Miles. Have fun finally being able to hang out with your brother and all his friends without being scared… outwardly, I mean.

Cry all you want, but an alpha stud like Miller only has reasons to smile.

Getting to be in a close space with his best bros and judging fat bimbo tits together all night at the club? Sounds like heaven to him, broski. On the drive over he’ll be sure to roll up the windows, lock the doors, and Dutch oven the fuckers with his gnarly farts for the laughs. No one represents the values of the squad more than Miller, after all.

How could he be anxious when this is all he’ll ever know?

[joeymariposa95]

[joeymariposa95]

[joeymariposa95]

[possessedesires]

CORPUS, Inc - Pride

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

CORPUS, Inc - Pride

CORPUS, Inc. was basically the most important (and only) company in its niche. Every program involving possession, body swapping, renting skinsuits, or anything else you could imagine, was guided by them. From small businesses to government initiatives, everything was infused with their technology, contracts, workers, and more.

And why? Well, because CORPUS, Inc. basically never let a single opportunity pass them by, ever. Any gap in the market was detected by them – growth opportunities, everything. Did the elderly hate going to nursing homes where they were abandoned? Give them new bodies. Was crime on the rise and prisons overcrowded? Select the best bodies and put them back to serve society. Was the medical system rusting? New bodies!

So when June arrived, coinciding with the start of the World Cup festivities, the answer was simple: allow tourists to inhabit the bodies of locals in Mexico and other FIFA host cities, enabling them to attend matches without spending a fortune on lodging, flights, and more (or at least, if they were going to spend a lot of money, it was best to do so with them).

But June's significance wasn't solely due to the World Cup; it was a peak month for LGBT+ Pride celebrations, marches, parades – a massive economic boost that CORPUS, Inc. couldn't afford to miss out on. So… what could they do amidst the celebrations of all those football fans, especially after having already raffled off some of their bodies to other foreign fans? Simple.

Give them those same bodies.

Who wouldn't want to be in the body of a muscular fan wearing a tight-fitting tricolor jersey that left nothing to the imagination? The body-swap company should thank the fashion industry for providing the perfect trap for anyone interested in enjoying Pride Month in Mexico.

Oliver (24, UK)

I used to be somewhat… thin, not really a social person, always encapsulated in my own little bubble. Celebrations and that kind of thing weren't my thing, but something in the advertising for CORPUS, Inc. tempted me to sign up for one of their packages. I hoped that the atmosphere of the parade, the clubs, and the whole party vibe of the city would make me "come out of my shell". Although I wasn't expecting a body… like this.

Literally, my head is the size of just one of my new legs! My arms, my hands, everything is gigantic! I feel like my clothes don't fit, this shirt is XL! And even then, I feel like it's constantly riding up.

Anyone would be happy with their new appearance, but not me! I feel gigantic and clumsy! I drop everything as soon as I take a step, and I think I feel even more self-conscious than before, which is ridiculous! I must be almost 6'6" and even then, I get stuck just walking to the corner store for a single bottle of water.

I thought this would be a great idea, but I just want to go home… The problem is, I booked a whole month in this body, and I don't want to anymore…

Lars (40, Sweden)

Mexico always seemed like an interesting destination to me. It was affordable, warm (unlike here, where you can make a popsicle after a few minutes outside in the freezing cold), and I'd been wanting to visit for a long time. I wanted to take a break from work, escape the monotony. I'm a firefighter in my original body. I might sound a bit arrogant, but my physique is definitely big, strong, and tall. I was hoping to end up in a body more… similar to mine.

But I ended up in this guy's body, he must be half my age, I lost almost 20cm, and everything feels… bigger, which I didn't like at first. I felt like my arms were too skinny, my waist too thin like a Barbie doll's, there's no hair except on my legs! Even "down there" is shaved and smooth as velvet.

But I have to admit I'm starting to like it. After almost insulting my travel agent at CORPUS, Inc., I thought: Hey, these legs aren't so bad. I love how fleshy they feel! The sound is a fucking cacophony to me, my hand against my thighs, against themselves, or shit, even my newfound masculinity against the area!

Besides, a garment this tight and small would have looked ridiculous on my old body, but here, it's a fucking marvel. Just look at that ass! It seems to fill the whole garment without any problem.

Diego (19, Argentina)

In my real body I am… Um… Well, I'm a trans guy. I haven't had the opportunity or the financial means to start my transition treatment properly, so I just cut my hair, wrap my chest, and try to dress as masculine as possible, although that doesn't stop some people from still calling me "she". I thought coming to Pride here in Mexico City would be fantastic, with a great body, confidence…

And dude, I wasn’t wrong, damn it! You see these muscles? THEY'RE MINE! And this voice? Nobody's going to call me "miss" even by mistake! I feel like the floor vibrates almost every time I take a simple step, and the beard! It itches like hell, but I'm truly loving every single second of it. I have the body I always dreamed of! No more wasting time wrapping a bandage around my torso, or trying to act more masculine. I am fucking masculinity personified!

I love sitting on public transport and spreading my legs, feeling my tool drop next to my fat balls, mfhhh! Am I a pervert? Maybe. But this is a fucking dream come true!

The only downside I'd mention is maybe the smell; these feet reek of cheese and vinegar like you wouldn't believe, haha! But I'm even starting to like it. I feel fabulous, incredible like never before. I have more confidence, more power, I've had more encounters than you can imagine… Lucky I booked a three-month stay.

I wasn't that interested in the World Cup in my old body, but this body has a tendency to enjoy football, and well, I think I could enjoy it too. It's not like there aren't plenty of guys hungry for a strong man like me who also enjoy watching football, heh.

Felix (32, Germany)

I've always felt out of place, and no, I'm not talking about my sexual orientation. Fortunately, I've always had the space to be myself without being judged. Men like me, I've had tons of dates, and I'm successful with them, but… I'm not comfortable with my body. Why?

I've always felt it's too… big.

My build has always been stocky, strong, very, very masculine. This always causes confusion when it comes to… getting intimate with someone. They always assume I'm a "top" when I'm not, and all I get is ridicule and difficulty in getting people to see me as I am. Nobody can believe I'm… sensitive, or that I'm feminine. They always expect me to be extremely masculine, brutish, to exude power wherever I go.

I was worried about the body they'd put me in, in Mexico. I'd always associated it with sweaty, strong guys with dark skin and the smell of tequila, but what I found myself in when I opened my eyes was… surreal.

Fair skin, black hair, glasses, no more than 1.80 meters tall, light as a feather, I had a good build but I wasn't a behemoth, it was like my dream body!

I ended up in the body of a total skinny geek with great muscles. I'm so flexible now! The guy did gymnastics, and it really feels like my body has an elegance that mine could never achieve. I can do the splits, lift my leg 180 degrees, spin on my own axis, I can even do a somersault! God, the more I'm here, the more I love this.

Jin (22, South Korea)

This is… disgusting.

I thought coming to Mexico would be fun – the party atmosphere, noisemakers, fireworks, Jarritos soda, even Dr. Simi was there! Believe it or not, Mexico is quite popular in South Korea, and I wanted to experience it without having to spend a fortune on travel and accommodation. I'd always been slim, like an… Idol, so to speak. I loved skincare, cleanliness, fashion, and all that stuff. I thought the Mexican body they were going to put me in wouldn't be too bad.

I was wrong. The guy stinks! Seriously, no matter how many times I shower, the smell of sweat keeps emanating from his armpits like a damn endless river! And his closet? It was even worse, full of sports jerseys, shorts, and smelly, muddy shoes. The guy was literally a soccer fanatic who went way into debt betting on the World Cup and now he'd rented out his body to earn the money to pay it off.

Where are the decent clothes? The creams? I don't have any! The area where she lives isn't exactly the most... well... well-kept. I'm not getting any better this week. I thought this would be more fun, but I have no idea where to go. All I've managed is getting his friends to invite me to watch games. I have to sit, spread my legs like a caveman, pretend I'm interested in sweaty men running after a ball, and go crazy when there's a goal. I haven't even been able to try a single Jarritos soda from here! Ugh!

Elena (26, Greece)

I was about to sue CORPUS, Inc. the moment I opened my eyes to a clearly male, gigantic body. 

Latin America had always intrigued me, and I thought it would be a good option for sightseeing during Pride Month. I've always been very proud of my identity, but… I wasn't very good at picking up women. My physique wasn't particularly impressive either, plus I'm very shy. I had chosen a female body from their catalog: nice features, tall, with slightly tanned skin and brown hair. I thought that would make me stand out and that I could finally talk to a gurl without stumbling over my words.

But CORPUS, Inc. had other plans for me. A guy with broad shoulders, gigantic pecs, even bigger thighs, a tool of about 18 cm, sculpted buttocks, and a deep voice. I really wanted to go crazy, but if I was a man now, it meant I could use that to pick up as many straight girls as I wanted! Tell me, who could resist this? With these delicious biceps, I love how sensitive my areolas are now; just a touch of my shirt against my pecs and they're hard as rocks, haha!

I'm loving the festive atmosphere of the World Cup. I've always been a bit of a "tough girl", so I feel like a fish in water, and this body also has a tremendous tolerance for drinks! I can have like 15 in a row and stay perfectly fine.

I'm even curious to experiment a little with other men… I mean, this damn gorgeous body can't be just for women, right? I think it's partly due to its former owner. When I woke up, I saw some pictures of him with other men, gay dating apps, an X account that… I wasn't very willing to open, but as the days go by, why not? You only live once.

Bastian (28, Belgium)

I always felt insecure about my body, too chubby, t-shirts looked awful on me, everything was always visible, and I felt like a badly packaged ham! I thought the bullying would stop when I finished university, but it only evolved into my coworkers secretly making fun of my weight and how bad I always looked to my boss.

I just wanted something different. I didn't care about the country or the era; I just needed to be someone other than myself. And well, here we are. And… I like it. I mean, look at this face, isn't it cute? It feels so soft, and the hair too! Golden like the sun, I've become so damn addicted to taking pictures of myself nonstop. If there's a mirror, a reflection, or even the front camera of my phone, it'll end up with me taking a selfie.

Maybe I don't have huge biceps, or big legs, or even prominent pecs, but you know what I don't have? My gigantic belly. And that's all that matters to me.

Priya (25, India)

I had read so many bad reviews of CORPUS, Inc., complaints about people ending up in the wrong bodies, some transfers back that could never be completed, and the list goes on and on. But even so, I hired them, and in fact… I expected them to fail.

Call it a social experiment, just for pleasure, or whatever you want, but I'm loving being a man! The power, the security, all the advantages and privileges they have! Not only can I go to the bathroom in a flash and avoid long lines, but it was also so much easier to get ready. I just had to put on a t-shirt and jeans, and I was ready to go. I didn't have to put up with harassment or worry about walking around at night. Really, with these muscles…

The only problem I find is my hunger. The guy I swapped bodies with loves going to the gym, hence his massive pecs and the fact that his apartment smells so bad (but I'm not complaining). He was bulking, which basically made his cravings through the roof. I've eaten like 30 burgers in just one week! It's like a bottomless pit; I can eat and eat and eat and still never feel satisfied.

But I have to admit, I love it. I've never enjoyed food so much! I can eat pizza, sushi, tacos, ice cream, chocolate, burgers, and fries all in one sitting. It makes me burp all the time, but it's starting to feel so much fun. The power it makes me feel... And it seems like other guys like it too. 

I don't know why some people are so obsessed with humiliating themselves, surrendering to others, and letting them do whatever they want. But if they want it, who am I to say no?

Leo (CEO, CORPUS, Inc.)

What's the biggest advantage of being able to run a body-swap company around the world? That I don't have to pay anything to use its services, much less worry about which bodies "are or aren't" suitable for this.

If I want, I can select the damn president's body and become him to smell his feet for a while in the Oval Office.

But, it would be a waste of time. So… World Cup season was undoubtedly the best of all: Chaos in the streets, celebrations, the excitement, sweaty, shirtless, sculpted bodies so lost in their own euphoria (and a few too many drinks) that they couldn't care less about the “little” things going on around them.

So many guys kissing each other in the street, groping each other, euphoric for more – anyone would think they're just drunk fans – but wouldn’t you “waste” your time kissing every guy you see in a body that isn't yours? With a great physique, no worries about work, no ties to romantic relationships, no physical limitations, just the carnal and lustful drive for more.

Perhaps that's what drove me to found CORPUS, Inc., and I must admit I don't regret it for a single second. Do we have flaws? Like any company, of course. Am I going to fix them? Of course not!

All that chaos of botched body swaps, possessions that last longer than expected, skinsuits that close without letting the user out – it's all on purpose! Who wouldn't love to be in a stinky body, with big muscles and a huge ass? To see some worried, devoted family man suddenly become a guy eager for another man to put him on all fours and make him gasp all night?

It's even somewhat perverted and sadistic, but… What does it matter? I can have as many attractive bodies as I want, as if I were going to put on clothes to go out, and the world can enjoy that too.

Want to be a muscular, goofy Himbo? Done. Prefer an athlete with stinky feet and armpits? Go for it. Want to become that neighbor you've secretly fancied for so, so many years? Take it!

There's a reason we have coverage in almost 190 countries. Any body, no matter who it is or where it's from, we can use it and bring it in for whatever you want. Even at these massive events. It would be a fucking missed opportunity to just let them go, with so many bodies that are perfect for anything!

Honestly, there are no limits to what can or can't be done at this company.

— Sir, your photoshoot is waiting. Are you ready?

Oops, my photographer arrived. Well, I guess I should leave you for a bit. I just swapped bodies with an athlete, and I'm really enjoying inhabiting his body. I thought soccer players were just dumb, brainless guys, which is partly true, but damn, they have great muscles! These legs could split a tree in two with a single kick, and his sweaty feet… I'm loving it.

I couldn't pass up the opportunity to borrow him, take some pictures, and have some fun. It's not like his original owner is going to find out or know. I'll return his body soon so he can continue playing in the World Cup and scoring goals, but until then… His body is all mine.

« CORPUS, Inc. The number one body swap and possessions company worldwide. Where dreams are born »

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Hey everyone!

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

In the coming months, I'll mostly be posting summer-themed stories. Other series you enjoy, like Haunted, Slipped, and others, will still be available, but I'll try to give them a more summery feel. I hope you're enjoying it!

Remember that you can also go to my X: @possessedesires to participate in the giveaway for a completely free personalized story. The last day to register is this Sunday, July 5th, so don't miss it!

I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?

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[joeymariposa95]

[entouragestories]

Second Life

I’ve been were busy recently and haven’t had time to write and I’ve also had writers block, I wanna thank @chavdrone and @kaithescallylad for inspiring me to write this story! ________________________________________________

Oliver was walking home from a friend towards the bus stop when he noticed a new shop. He had been around this part of London many times and had never seen this store before. Its dusty storefront displayed many different styled mannequins in attempts to be trendy, but they just ended up cheesy. Oliver looked at the store and read the half-broken neon sign, “Second life”; it was a second-hand shop. Oliver had time to kill, so he took the opportunity to check the store. It was open, and he went in. He was met by a large arrangement of racks with clothes and shelves; he didn't know where to start. The store seemed to be empty of any customers, and the checkout was empty as well, so Oliver just went around browsing for potential items.

Oliver was your average guy. He studied at some college in London he had recently turnt 20 and described by his nerdy characteristics: brown overgrown hair, glasses, a lanky build, and an normal clothing style. It was out of character for Oliver to blink twice at the White Nike trainers he just passed. His body felt drawn towards the pair, and even though the pair were size 11s and his feet were size 9, he felt obliged to try them on. He grabbed them and went towards a dressing room, not finding any other mirror or place to sit; he went there. Oliver removed his boots and put on the White Nike Tns. At first, he felt amused seeing these large, comically-looking sneakers on his feet, but that soon changed. The sneakers quickly started feeling moist, wet, and they were smelling; he was confused. Becoming uncomfortable, he quickly tried to yank off the sneakers, but to no avail, they were simply stuck, and the size gap weirdly felt snug.

Unbeknownst to Oliver, Second Life wasn't just an ordinary second-hand shop; no, it was a store offering a new life. Each item dropped off by the last owner transferred their essence into the new owner, ultimately forming a second life for the customer. Oliver's body started to change, and his height increased; his body frame started filling out, his lanky arms becoming toned, and his stomach gaining the outlines of some abs. His body gained a lean look, and his body started to emit the same smell his sneakers had; ultimately, exuding masculinity mixed with a new fragrance coming from his body, some cheap Axe deodorant and cologne. Oliver's face started changing; Oliver originally had slim and feminine features, a round nose and jaw, and a kind-looking face. That dramatically changed as his jaw started to square up, some stubble growing in, and his mouth gaining a stupid expression, a stupid grin. His nose swelled up and got crooked from all the fights he "supposedly" had gone through, and his eyes squinted up as well as his brow ridge squared up, his eyebrows becoming full and dark, and his ears becoming pierced. Oliver's hairstyle went from his long hair to a short-styled fade.

Oliver's clothes disintegrated all but his underwear that changed into some blue Nike boxers, as well as his bulge growing to accommodate his new length and foot size. Oliver's body started getting new clothes as a black football tracksuit materialized on him, the pants tucked into his socks, and he ultimately got a chain around his neck, finalizing his new look.

The last step was his mental state; Oliver's mind adjusted to his new persona and changed him into Ozzy, a 20-year-old British chav. Ozzy didn't go to college like those fancy shits; instead, he spent his days hanging with his brothers and working for some money. Gone was Oliver, and the world around him had erased Oliver for good. The store owner watched the whole change back in the storage, checking out another happy customer.

[joeymariposa95]

The way his pinky toes tuck behind his fourth toes made me cum!!

[joeymariposa95]