ianaughty

My blog is all about naughty fantasies of male dominance, mind swap/control, body possession/growth.

[unexpected-possessions]

[possessedesires]

Soul To Hold: Paradise I

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.

Soul To Hold: Paradise I

A Soul To Hold's story

I think I should have learned my lesson the first time, but if we're here, it's because obviously I didn't. Parker and I have been together for four years, and they've been the most wonderful years of my life.

He's everything anyone could want: strong, attentive, intelligent, a little... nerdy sometimes, but good heavens, I love it when he starts talking about the things he's passionate about. The problem? Parker, like his whole family, has a genetic "condition" that puts things very risky every time we leave the house, and someone could end up stealing his body.

And no, I'm not being sarcastic.

Parker is a "beacon", someone who can attract other souls (living or dead) to take over their bodies as they please. Of course, he doesn't control it or manage it, which got us into a really big bind last Halloween.

And since then, the problem has only gotten worse. It turns out that the broken necklace that night has caused his powers to spiral out of control like never before. You know what happens when flies and other insects see a bright light in the middle of a cold, dark night? They swarm towards it, surround it, and try to stick to it with all their might, even if it means bursting into flames. 

Well, that's what the souls surrounding Parker's body were like.

He's been possessed by countless people and spirits. His boss, a man in his forties with a gigantic belly, possessed him in the middle of a meeting, causing "Parker" to start rubbing himself against the table like an uncontrollable pervert, panting and putting his fingers in his mouth, lost in his own pleasure. It was incredibly lucky that the same idiot who possessed him ended up admitting it was his fault (in private, of course) and didn't fire him.

Another day, he was possessed by a neighbor, then a scrawny guy on the street, the ghost of an old man, a jealous nerd, and the list went on and on and on.

— Come on, we can go on vacation. You've already spent a fortune on those tickets and the hotel; we can't just let it go.

— Of course we can. I don't care about the money. If your body gets lost there, what am I going to do? No. That's a definite no.

— Wait – Parker reached out and placed his hand on mine, stopping me from frantically unpacking – How long has it been since I was possessed?

— I don't know. What does it matter?

— Honey, the last possession happened about three weeks ago. Gale and I have been trying to perfect a new collar to make it stronger so no one can steal my body again. See? I'm here with you, I'm not going anywhere, you have nothing to fear – he smiled slyly, caressing my cheek. I just pressed my lips together. Was that true? Really?... No, it was true. His body hadn't been stolen in almost a month, everything had been fine, maybe we could go to the beach. I desperately needed a vacation. I loved Parker, but it was tiring chasing after him like a dog that had gotten loose and was running flat on its back.

— Maybe... we can try – I nodded nervously.

Our trip was to a paradise destination, right on the Pacific Ocean, with light brown sand, delicious sunshine, palm trees everywhere, and that salty scent. The hotel had a pool, a spa area; it really was a dream come true, although, unfortunately for me, I was always on my guard. Even worse on the plane, I felt like everyone was staring at us, and it's not like I blame people for looking at Parker like that – I mean, those shoulders, biceps, and pecs are to die for. I absolutely love how thick and plump his legs look when he sits down and the muscle presses against the seat – but one wrong look and a tourist could end up inside him, with an all-expenses-paid vacation inside my boyfriend.

— Are you sure you feel okay? – I murmured, noticing how a guy was staring at us from a seat in front of us in the other row. It wasn't a look of surprise or strangeness (because yes, we may be in the 21st century, but ignorance is still lurking), it was more like… dark, almost with a desire. I tried to look away; Parker was just looking at his phone, trying to choose what music to put on his headphones.

— I feel fine, you don't have to worry about anything. I already told you Gale and I have been sorting that out. Just breathe, it's your vacation after all, right? – He winked at me before gently leaning in and pressing his lips to mine, his soft tongue trying to find mine while his arm pressed against my shoulder with affection and comfort – I love you.

— I love you more – I gave a soft smile, closing my eyes to make the journey more bearable.

Everything was normal up until that point. As soon as we got off the plane, we took a taxi to the hotel. The reception staff was also very kind, giving us exclusive wristbands and handing us our room keys. It was a fantastic place, almost like something out of a movie: white walls, the sound of water splashing in the pool, the aroma of food from the buffet, the warm, humid air, and the distant ocean.

— Where is our room?

— I think it's across the pool. It's supposed to be a deluxe room, right? – Parker was distracted, reading the room specifications, the entrance, exit, and those details.

There were a couple of people in the pool; some were swimming, others were talking while having their drinks by the edge, but there was one guy in particular. He looked about our age, a little chubby, his cheeks flushed from the heat, his hair wet. He regarded the others with a hint of jealousy, even resentment, isolated. His swimsuit did its best to cover him, but a few rolls of fat still peeked out at the sides. He was sprawled on a sun lounger.

We both walked back to our tower. The room was on the third floor. We carried our suitcases upstairs to the door. I swiped my card, and a tidy, uncluttered room with a fan spinning on the ceiling welcomed us. Parker closed the door, dropped our suitcases, and immediately took me by the waist, carrying me to the bed. I just giggled, wrapping my arms around his neck until my back touched the sheets next to the mattress.

— So... What do we do now? – he murmured, his breath ragged, his lips almost touching mine. I loved the way his face looked, so close to mine. I had to swallow hard, a soft giggle escaping my lips, my fingers tangling in his hair.

— I think... You know what… – I brought my lips closer to his, kissing him intensely, saliva trickling between us, our tongues clashing, his grunts. Everything was perfect. The way he placed his hands on the buttons of my shirt to unbutton it, I pressed myself closer to him, needing to feel his warmth.

— Mfhh, love, I think that... UGHH! – His eyes suddenly glazed over, his throat went tight as if he were swallowing, his expression blank. Shit.

— Parker, dear?! – I tried to reach out and grab his shoulders, but all I could hear were his grunts and guttural sounds. He was in a complete trance.

— MFHHHH! – He groaned again, his tongue sticking out slightly, his eyes continuing to roll back, turning completely white. He stayed like that for a while, falling back onto the bed and having spasms, one after another. His body was tense and erect. I tried to move him closer to the center of the bed, but I noticed he stopped moving, so I moved a little closer to him. I don't know when he opened his eyes, but slowly, they began to open.

— Ugh, my head – he said, slowly sitting up, dazed, and putting his hands to his head.

— D-Darling? – I murmured, although, given what happened next, I think the answer was pretty obvious. His eyes opened wide, like saucers. First, he looked at me, confused, but... Happy? He looked at his palms, noticing his new, longer, athletic fingers. Then he put his hands on his shoulders, tracing his biceps with a fascinated laugh.

— Oh my... Good heavens! – His hand sank directly into his pecs like pizza dough, his expression one of pure euphoria. He stood up, his gaze lingering on his abs, then quickly lifted his shirt and ran his hand around them, laughing maniacally – This is... Wow!

Then he began patting his thighs, eager, more excited than anything in the world. I swallowed hard. It couldn't be.

I left the room slowly. He seemed too enthralled with his new body to notice me. I pulled out my phone, selected a contact, and pressed the call button. I waited on hold for a while until someone answered.

— Hey, bro! How were your holidays? – a deep voice called out. It was definitely Gale, but he was probably in another body. I didn't want to ask right now.

— Um, let's just say they were good. I just have one question, Gale. Exactly what did you and Parker do with the necklace? Shouldn't it work better to… keep people away from his body?

— … What are you talking about, Dylan? I haven't done anything with Gale, or his collar. You know I don't even wear mine, so why would I know how to improve the protection on his?

It was like a bucket of ice water had been thrown on me.

— He hasn't… told you anything? – I swallowed – Doesn't anyone in your family know?

I glanced back out of the corner of my eye into our room. The guy who was now inside my boyfriend's body had the elastic of his pants pulled up and was swaying his hips with fascination as he watched his tool move.

— Dylan, I don't understand a damn thing you're saying. What's going on?

— Parker's been having trouble with his collar. It's not working; they've practically been stealing his body uncontrollably. Right now… Someone's inside him.

— What?! And why did you go on vacation if you knew this was going to happen?!

— Gale. I'm not in the mood for this. Can you do anything?

— And what do you want me to do?

— Last time you got inside him. I'd rather have you than some stranger. I just want to keep his body safe, be able to get him on the plane and bring him back home. I don't care about the vacation right now; I just want to keep him safe.

— It's a long way, Dylan. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't connect to his body. He's miles and miles away. The only solution you have is to try to bring him back so you can return.

— And what do I do with whoever's inside his body?

— I'm afraid you'll have to make that person leave of their own accord… Because of the distance, the connection between that person's body and Parker's soul is unstable. I don't think it's a good idea for you to get on a plane without my brother in control of his body – The silence was long – Um… I'll try to see what I can do to reinforce the collar's protection, or do something better, but I can't promise anything. If my family hasn't been able to control this in almost a hundred years, I don't think I can, Dylan, but… I'll try. Goodbye.

The beep ending the call continued to pound in my eardrums for a long time until I finally managed to put the phone down and hang up. What was I supposed to do? Getting those guys out of Parker's body was always a constant, almost never-ending struggle, and dude, was it going to be exhausting.

Thanks to months of research (more forced than out of curiosity), I discovered that the lighthouses don't exist just for the sake of it. It seems they had some kind of… divine mission, to fulfill the desires and dreams of others through their bodies. As if they were fairy godmothers for the living and the dead, the unfinished business of ghosts and other spirits still haunting the earth could be settled, allowing them to rest. In the case of the living, it was more a matter of… freeing the body without going to extremes.

Appeasing ghosts and entities was always much easier, and I only hoped my new “visitor” was one of them.

I re-entered the room with soft steps so as not to attract too much attention. Now he was standing in front of the mirror with a sly, almost mocking smile. “Parker” was running his hands over his chest, slowly and gently, as if performing a sacred dance. His breathing was ragged, panting for more.

— Damn, you’ve got a great body, man – he licked his lips, until he finally noticed me in the corner of his eye – Is this a… dream? – he smiled, excited, as if it were my mission to guide him.

— Uh, I… Yes, sure. It’s all a dream – I nodded, trying to look more convincing. He just frowned, lost in thought, before finally shrugging and making a rather stupid face, leaning back on the bed to slip his hand inside his pants and sniff Parker's tool. — Woah! This smells fantastic, it's so... vivid and real. Are you supposed to be my conscience or something?

— Sure, I'm your... conscience, like you said. Why do you think you're in this body?

— Meh, I don't know, vacations are boring when you don't have a good body – he muttered, lifting his armpit to sniff it, delighted by the aroma mixed with his own stench and a bit of deodorant. It was woody and at the same time, slightly sour with hints of masculinity. I had to restrain myself so I wouldn't end up with an uncomfortable tent in my pants.

— Why do you say that?

— Because… You know, duh, if you're my conscience, you should know – Our eyes locked for a long moment until he sighed and rolled his eyes – My university is supposed to be on a class trip, everyone's having a blast, except me. I don't have anyone to talk to, and it's not like they want to socialize much with the chubby guy in class. Flirt with some stranger? Yeah, right, they're going to start laughing like crazy at how my belly looks above my swimsuit.

I thought for a while, until I figured out what this guy wanted and how to kick him out. I just hope I can handle him well…

— Fuck, the water feels fantastic – The guy who controlled my boyfriend's body had his precious new possession soaked from head to toe. Drops of chlorinated water ran down his broad chest, a few tiny droplets gathering on his areolas before falling into the pool. He was wearing the tightest swimsuit he could find in Parker's backpack, reveling in his new thick muscles, those rock-hard biceps and thighs, swimming from one end of the pool to the other. Luckily, his classmates had left before we did, and he was hoping no one else would join us.

— Enjoy it, it's for you – I managed the best smile I could muster. Why hadn't he left Parker yet? We'd been swimming like idiots here for almost an hour, and he was still flexing arrogantly, constantly grabbing his abs underwater as if he wanted to etch into his mind the sensation of not encountering a voluptuous stomach. I even saw him rubbing himself against the pool filter, the one that sprays water in a jet... rubbing himself like an itchy bear against a tree, letting out soft gasps. What more did this guy want?!

I noticed his gaze, beyond the self-centered glances he gave himself every five seconds, how he kept watching me, lightly biting his lip, trying to act "casual", flexing his biceps every time our eyes met. I clenched my jaw. Was this really necessary? There had to be another way, although, if I had to do this to get Parker's body back... I preferred it to be my way rather than some attractive tourist finding his way to the pool.

— And... Do you like this? – I approached, slowly, whispering as if my velvety voice were a siren afraid to break the calm of the water around her.

— Damn, I love it. I hope I never have to wake up. There are so many things I'd like to do.

— Oh yeah? Like what? Why don't you... tell me about it? – My hand slid across his chest to wrap my hands around the back of his neck. His expression was initially confused, even frightened by the closeness, but I remained firm, trying to convince myself that this was Parker. If it was his body, it had to be easier to interpret. He smiled slowly, then wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me close. I felt our wet, damp tools begin to move against each other beneath the water. He let out a soft gasp, slowly bringing his lips to mine. I closed my eyes and braced myself for what was to come.

I felt him open his mouth, his tongue darting towards mine, a clumsy collision. Was this his first kiss, or...?

— MFHHH! 

What had been clumsiness instantly transformed into eagerness. He gripped both my cheeks tightly, kissing me with desperation and desire, as if we weren't in a public place. He began caressing the rest of my body, my arms, my chest, pulling me closer and closer to him like I owned him. I could feel Parker's obelisk shooting upwards.

— Mfhh… — he kissed me again for what felt like an hour, until he finally pulled away, his breath ragged and his eyes sparkling. 

— Damn, you have no idea how much I wanted to do that. My mind knows you're totally my type, right? – he smiled. I couldn't help but blush, nodding almost wordlessly so he could kiss me again, his fingers tangling in my hair. The intense kisses continued for a while until I felt his body stiffen.

— Ugh, damn it, my head, shit… – he muttered. I slowly pulled away, waiting to see what would come of it – Dyl?

— My love? – I moved closer again to hug him gently.

— Looks like someone got inside me, huh? – he sighed, looking down. I watched from behind us as the same chubby guy who'd been in the pool when we arrived got up, startled, from the lounge chair he'd been lying on, his eyes still a bit sleepy.

— And I think someone's been lying to me, haven't you?

— Dyl, I…

— Spare me the details. I know you haven't spoken to Gale at all, I know you haven't gone to see your family, and that your damn magic necklace isn't working. What's wrong, Parker? We're supposed to be a team. You're supposed to be telling me these things. Do you know the danger we're in now that we're here? What will we do if I can't get whoever's in your body out?

— But the vacation-

— I don't give a damn about the vacation! – I was so angry. I clenched my fists. I felt like a pressure cooker about to explode. 

— I thought I could control it, that I could master it better, love, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel-

— Well, you thought wrong, Parker! You can't control it, and you never will. End of story.

I groaned, wading through the pool until I reached the edge to grab my flip-flops and a towel, which I wrapped around my waist. I was practically trembling with anger.

— Where are you going?... – he muttered, like a scolded puppy.

— For a walk. I don't want to be with you right now. Go lock yourself in our room and turn off your social media. I'm serious. I don't want you to keep putting yourself out there – I clenched my fists and strode forward aimlessly, hearing Parker's pleas behind me. Was I... doing the right thing? Was I being correct about what was happening?

I didn't know, honestly. Everything was still spinning. Having his body stolen from him each time wasn't getting any easier, and honestly, I was starting to question whether I wanted to continue with this in the long run. How much of myself, how much of him, or even how much of our relationship was I willing to pay? How could I have been so irresponsible? I remembered how worried he was at the beginning, always wearing his necklace, trying to be as private and discreet as possible, his calm demeanor, his responsible and much less impulsive behavior. What the hell had happened to that guy I'd fallen in love with these past few months?

Now it was a vacation, but what about afterward? What if on our anniversary a waiter stole his body again? What if at Christmas he ended up in some dump because a homeless person was jealous of him, or even on our wedding day, what if his ex-boyfriend got jealous of us and ended up possessing him to make a scene?

Was that really what I wanted for the rest of my life? I inhaled a little, trying to walk to clear my thoughts, I just… wanted to be alone, I didn't need anyone at that moment.

📲. Hey, bro, I found something. I think you have to see it, call me when you can, it's urgent.

To be continued.

----

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.

I think a special summer story was long overdue, and I was so eager to continue Parker and Dylan's story. It will only be a two-part mini-story (the next part will be out in July, so look forward to it).

Also, as you know, I just opened an account on X, which I'm really excited about. I consider it a bold move, and I hope you'll support me in it. There, I'll be posting captions, story promotions for Patreon, polls, thoughts, and other things related to the topics of body swapping, possession, hypnosis, transformation, and so on, which we love so much. And even more exciting, you'll be able to enjoy all that content without the restrictions that this platform usually has, if you know what I mean, hehe.

Possessed Desires (@possessedesires) on X

Possession, body swapping, and hipnosis' writer. Nice to meet you, I'm StarBoy. DM for credit or removal. All characters and models are over

So don't miss the chance to follow me! Thank you so much for your support, really.

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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[unexpected-possessions]

This story was a fun read, so I made some images of Parker's other encounters...

[unexpected-possessions]

[unexpected-possessions]

[fiszh]

Ahhh yes what a good body and good nipple, this body is really a good possesion. Go for it even harder man with those nipples.

[unexpected-possessions]

A shapeshifter's tip...

[unexpected-possessions]

[bonhooo]

[unexpected-possessions]

[goon-bate]

"Psstttt.......look at me, are you sure you want to let me down? Are you sure you want to see the other girls on my cock instead of you? No, right? If so, then take a deep breath, get used to the musk, relax, and envision gulping the whole thing as you work on to loose your throat one more time, okay baby? Make me proud, okay, get ready,"

[goon-bate]

"Store all the conditioning deep in your subconsciousness and everytime someone say the trigger word, all those conditioning activated, do you understand?"

"Nghhh.....nghhhhh"

"I take that as a yes. Okay then, by the time I said 1, you snap out of this trance and just find me as your amusing younger brother, do you understand, dumbfuck?"

"Nghhhjaaa.....jaahhh.....nggg"

"Okay, great. Let me place you back to your position before. So in the count of 3....2.....snap the fuck out of it, 1,"

"Hnghhh....wait....sorry, I lost track of time. What did we speak about before, Simon?"

"How do you juggle all the frat house events and overall social life, the trainings and the classes?"

"Ahhh yes, now I remember. Okay, so---"

[forthegaze123]

Couldn't Stop Touching

Rick couldn’t stop touching.

The spell miraculously worked. One second he was the 48-year-old flabby pervert landlord who had spent a year secretly filming his tenant through the vents; the next he was inside Tyler’s 22-year-old body, sitting comfortably, legs spread in the chair, hands already on the glistening abs.

“Fuck, Tyler,” Rick groaned out loud, voice deep and thick with lust. “These abs are even harder than it looks. I can feel every single ridge under my palms. So warm. So fucking tight.”

His big new hands pressed flat against the lower eight-pack, fingers spreading wide just like in the opening frames. The skin was slick, hot, and impossibly smooth. He dragged his palms upward slowly, feeling each muscle pop and flex beneath his touch.

“Goddamn… one… two… three… four… all the way up. You spent years building this for the girls, didn’t you? Now it’s mine to play with whenever I want.”

Tyler’s voice exploded inside his head, furious and terrified. “Rick! You sick fucking bastard! Get out of my body right now!”

Rick laughed, the sound rumbling through his new broad chest. “Too late, kid. The spell made it permanent. I broke the magic wand anyway. You’re sitting in the backseat right now, and I’m here wearing yours like a custom suit. And I’m going to break it in properly.”

His hands slid back down, thumbs tracing the deep cuts of the obliques, then brushing the waistband of the tight light-blue jeans. He could already feel the heavy cock starting to swell inside them.

“Feel that twitch? Your straight cock is getting hard for me. For a man’s hands all over your body. How’s that feel, Tyler?”

“Stop—don’t you fucking touch it!” Tyler’s mental voice cracked.

Rick ignored him, one hand staying on the abs while the other reached for the small round mirror on the desk. He held it up, angling it so he could stare into Tyler’s handsome face while his other hand kept rubbing slow circles over the shiny muscle.

“Look at us,” he whispered, voice husky. “That jawline. Those lips. This fucking stubble scratching my fingers. You were always the hot college stud everyone wanted. Now this face is going to be moaning around thick cock and begging for loads. It suits better.”

He licked his new lips slowly in the mirror, watching the reflection obey. Then he dragged two fingers down his own cheek, feeling the rasp of stubble.

“Even the smell is perfect. Your pit musk is rising every time I move my arms. I used to steal your gym shirts just to sniff them while I jerked off. Now I get the real thing straight from the source.”

He lifted one arm and buried his nose in the pit, inhaling deeply. The sharp, masculine scent made his cock throb violently against the denim.

Tyler’s voice was quieter now, shaky. “Why… why does it feel so good when you do that? I’m straight, Rick. I have a girlfriend…”

“Not anymore,” Rick growled, setting the mirror aside for a moment so both hands could work. He popped the button on the jeans and slowly dragged the zipper down. The heavy cock sprang free, thick, veined, already leaking. “This body belongs to a gay man now. My gay mind is in charge now, and it’s going to teach you exactly how good it feels to be used.”

He wrapped one strong hand around the shaft and gave a slow, deliberate stroke from base to head, smearing the pre-cum. The sensation was electric—far more intense than anything his old body had ever felt.

“Fuck… so sensitive. Every stroke makes the abs clench. I can feel your balls tightening already. You’re going to cum so hard for me, Tyler. And you’re going to feel every single rope.”

He stroked faster, the wet sound filling the room, his other hand still rubbing the cum-slick abs in time with each pump. Tyler’s protests were getting weaker, mixing with helpless little mental moans.

“Oh god… Rick… it’s too much… I can feel everything…”

“Fuck yeah, that’s right,” Rick panted, voice rough. “Feel it. Feel how good it is when a real man takes your body and makes it cum like a whore. This load is mine. This orgasm is mine. And after I paint these abs white, I’m going to rub it in and do it all over again.”

His back arched. The powerful thighs in the half-open jeans tensed. The deep voice that used to belong to Tyler broke into a long, guttural moan as the orgasm hit like a freight train.

“Fuuuuck—yes! Take it, Tyler! Feel every fucking pulse! HAAARGHHHHHH!”

Thick ropes of cum splattered across the glistening abs and chest, some even hitting the window in front of him. Rick kept stroking through it, milking every drop, watching the muscles jump and flex under the hot mess.

When it finally ended he lay there panting, one hand lazily smearing the cum into the skin, the other lifting the mirror again so he could admire the flushed, satisfied face staring back at him.

Tyler’s voice was small, dazed, almost broken. “It… it felt so good. I couldn’t stop it. What’s happening to me?”

Rick smiled at his reflection, slow and predatory, and dragged two cum-covered fingers across his new lips.

“Conversion, baby. You'll get used to it. And we’re only just getting started. This body is mine now. And every single day I’m going to remind you exactly who’s in charge… while you beg me for more.”

[mindyourbod]

One (Not So) Small Suggestion

I knew I'd struck gold when I met my boyfriend Aaron.

I had a habit of falling for straight acting masculine guys. Those deeply closeted "bros" who think hitting the gym somehow makes them less queer.

Aaron was very far removed from my usual type. He wasn't effeminate, but he wasn't aggressively macho or constantly posturing either. He was always quick with a smile, a hug, a kiss... and I loved it.

But after a while, I realized there was still one thing I was missing.

See, the reason I kept ending up with those big buff jerks is because... I just love muscular guys.

At one point, I'd been at my wit's end trying to get an ex to stop treating me like shit all the time, and I'd downloaded this whole bunch of hypnotism stuff. I made him a few files with some simple suggestions... problem was, he thought it was "too gay" to listen to something like that.

I'm not sure what I thought would happen, but on a whim, I made some files for Aaron too. I made sure to keep his personality intact - because, after all, I love him - but I threw in some suggestions to eat healthy, start going to the gym, and focus on prioritising fitness.

A couple of months in, and my sweet boy had packed on 20 odd pounds of muscle. He'd started picking me up, and on one very memorable occasion he actually pinned me to the bed before showering me with kisses.

I was planning to stop there. Even that little change made him my perfect guy. But then Aaron said something that changed my mind.

Aaron told me it made him feel closer to me, having my voice in his ear while he was at the gym, that he felt so safe drifting off listening to me.

I knew I should probably come clean and tell him that I'd been using them to hypnotise him, but... well, first of all, it sounds ridiculous, and second... I was scared of how he'd react.

So instead of doing the right thing and telling him the truth, I made him a new set of files. I really liked how he'd started being more confident, so I gave him some boosters for that. I also made him focus more on lifting and on bulking up, telling him he enjoyed getting bigger for me, that he loved feeling like my big buff protector.

And look, maybe I overdid it. Aaron took to the new instructions like a fish to water, and within a couple months he'd already outgrown his wardrobe. Again.

But I couldn't stop. I was enamoured with this enormous guy he'd grown into, so sweet and gentle with me and so imposing and burly otherwise.

Eventually, I reached a breaking point, and I told him the truth. But... look, I couldn't risk him getting scared and ending things, okay? So just in case, I put in a small suggestion in the files, telling him that maybe he liked being hypnotised, and maybe he got aroused by the thought of me moulding his body.

So when my sweet Aaron told me he'd scored some back alley supplements from a guy at the gym, gave me his best puppy dog eyes - despite the hulking bod and scruffy beard - and asked me to make him a new set of files and help him get HUGE... I couldn't say no.

We've just celebrated our anniversary, and the mountain of muscle that throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing and lumbers around from how wide his thighs have gotten is nothing like the cute boy I fell for. You'd be forgiven for thinking he's one of those closeted guys who pump themselves up with mass since they're scared of looking queer.

Except underneath all the excess bulk, body hair, and testosterone, it's still Aaron underneath it all. Just as lovely and as sweet as he was back when he was nearly 200 pounds lighter.

I really did strike gold with him after all.

[many-of-max]

Made by @futuradiego

[zachghost770]

DALTONS GETTING GOONY

AI GENERATED STORY

The mall buzzed with weekend energy—groups of teens loitered, couples strolled with shopping bags, and music spilled faintly from stores. But Stretch wasn’t interested in any of that. He’d been slinking through the ventilation ducts, invisible, watching, hunting. And then he saw him.

Dalton.

An 18-year-old walking wet dream. Shirtless under an open flannel, tight gym shorts that clung to his bubble butt like shrink wrap, and cheap black flip-flops slapping against the tile as he walked with zero urgency and zero thoughts. Blonde tousled hair. Smooth tan skin. A pair of big, blue, dumb puppy eyes. The definition of a Gen Z himbo—vacuous, horny, and built to be taken.

He stood in line for a pretzel, lips parted, scrolling aimlessly through TikTok on his phone, abs flexing as he shifted his weight. And Stretch could already tell—this boy was ripe. No resistance. No thoughts. Just meat.

Time to move.

Stretch slithered off the duct in a haze of smoke, invisible to the world as he zeroed in on Dalton. The boy yawned, thick tongue curling in his mouth as he stretched one arm lazily—his throat wide open. Perfect. Stretch surged forward with a distorted whisper:

"Oooopen wiiide, pretty boy…"

Dalton blinked, then gagged—eyes bulging as a thick, ghostly tentacle of Stretch’s essence jammed down his throat. His flip-flops scraped the tile as his legs kicked, mouth stuck open, the ghost stuffing deeper and deeper down his gullet. His flannel flew open, abs tensing and flexing uncontrollably. Dalton let out a wet, guttural "HRRRRK—!" before his whole body jerked and froze mid-spasm.

Then silence.

Dalton slowly lowered his arms. One flip-flop slid off slightly. He blinked.

Then smirked.

“Unnngh, yeeeahh, now that’s a fuckin’ ride,” he muttered with a chuckle—Stretch’s voice layered beneath Dalton’s dumb bro tone. He looked down at his new tan, muscular arms, then groped both pecs, giggling as he made them bounce.

“Holy shit, this flesh puppet’s perfect. Mmmff—tight lil bod, jiggly ass, and ohhh my fuckin’ god—”

He slapped his own bubble butt through the tight shorts, watching the ripple with awe. “I own this ass now? I’m gonna destroy it.”

He caught a glimpse of himself in a glass storefront and did a little bounce, biting his lip and puffing his cheeks.

“Bro… I can make such dumb fuckin’ faces…”

Stretch turned the body left and right, sticking out his tongue, crossing his eyes, flexing abs while drooling down his chin. “OHH yeah, I’m gonna goon so hard in this meat.”

With his cock swelling and balls already aching with a load, Stretch stumbled toward the nearest bathroom, one flip-flop half-off, a dopey grin plastered on Dalton’s face.

Inside the public restroom, Stretch locked the disabled stall, yanked the shorts down, and moaned.

Dalton’s cock sprang free—thick, veiny, fully hard, dripping pre like a faucet. And beneath it, those massive balls. Stretch let out a whistle.

“No wonder this fucker’s always horny—this cock’s a fuckin’ cannon.”

He pulled the shorts all the way off, stepping out and flexing in the mirror. The flip-flops stayed on. Of course.

“Yeahhh, keep the fuckin’ flops on… keep that dumb slut energy…”

Stretch posed, cock bobbing, and grabbed his own cheeks, spreading them, laughing breathlessly.

“Look at this slutty bubble butt… UUUNNNGH!”

He dropped to his knees, tongue lolling, as he jacked the fat meat slowly with both hands, watching himself in the stall’s scratched mirror. Dalton’s face was flushed, mouth open wide in a moaning ‘O’, eyes rolled up.

“This kid’s got hyperspermia, doesn’t he?” Stretch panted. “His cock’s leaking and I’ve been in here two fuckin’ minutes…”

He leaned back against the toilet, legs spread, flip-flops planted wide as he went full gooner mode.

“Yehhh bro… look at me… I’m just a dumb 18-year-old cumdump… nothin’ but meat, meat, meat…”

He stroked faster, moaning, balls bouncing between his thighs. Drool started slipping down his chin as he locked eyes with the mirror.

“UNNNGH—fuck—this face—fuckin’ beautiful—watch me cum, bro…”

And then it hit.

Dalton’s whole body spasmed. Stretch howled.

“OOOOHHH FUUUCKKKK—!!!”

SPLRRRRTTTT—!

Cum shot everywhere. Across his abs, onto his thighs, dripping from his chest. He pumped again—

SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!

Thick, pearly ropes sprayed the inside of the stall like a Jackson Pollock painting of pure depravity. Stretch was laughing between moans, drooling openly now, tongue out, face twisted into a blissed-out, slutty mess.

“AHAHAH—BRO—THIS DICK’S MAGICAL!” he cried, still jerking, still cumming. “He just keeps going!”

Ten seconds. Fifteen. Twenty. Still spurting.

Stretch choked out moans, writhing, muscles twitching uncontrollably as he rode the never-ending orgasm, cum splashing over the toilet seat, dripping from the stall door.

He looked into the mirror again, eyes wide, tongue out, spit and cum running down his chin, flexing his abs as he shot again.

“Yeahhh, look at you, Dalton… you’re mine now… and we’re gonna make this a daily ritual, slut.”

Stretch collapsed onto the floor, cock twitching, drooling on the tile, giggling dumbly.

“I ain’t never leavin’ this body…”

PART 2: LETS EXPERIMENT

The door to Dalton’s apartment slammed shut behind him with a lazy slap of his flip-flop. Stretch stretched his new host’s arms overhead, bones popping, pecs flexing, a smug grin spreading across Dalton’s pretty-boy face. His bubble butt peeked from under his gym shorts, damp from the sticky load he still hadn’t cleaned up from the mall bathroom earlier.

He dragged his fingers through his own golden-blonde hair and dropped onto the couch with a thick squelch. His shorts were soaked, and so was the cushion.

“Heh… damn, this kid’s body’s a fountain,” Stretch chuckled, patting Dalton’s jizz-plastered cock through the tight fabric. “Can’t believe how much he cums—fuckin’ hyperspermic slut…”

His eyes glazed over a little as his cock twitched just from saying it. Stretch yanked Dalton’s shorts down in one quick move, letting the thick, veiny cock slap up against his toned stomach, still leaking like a broken faucet.

“Alright, bro… let’s test the limits, yeah?”

He kicked his legs up, bare soles flopping onto the coffee table, flip-flops dangling from his toes. His bubble butt spread across the seat, cock pointed up and ready. In one hand? A fat glass measuring cup from the kitchen. In the other? A bottle of lube that was already halfway empty.

“Let’s see how much juice you really got, Dalton…”

Stretch began stroking.

Slow. Teasing. Biting his lip, he angled the measuring cup right under the head of that hyperspermic monster, whispering in Dalton’s own breathy voice.

“Fill it up, bro… be a good cumslut science project for Daddy Stretch…”

Dalton’s body reacted like it had been waiting for this. Balls tightening. Cock twitching. Veins bulging. His tongue hung out as his back arched. His tan feet scrunched on the table, flip-flops dropping off with a thud.

Then it hit.

“HRRRRAAAHHHH—FUUUUUCKKKK!!”

SPLAT. SPLAT. SPLAT.

Cum exploded from his cockhead, slamming into the bottom of the glass with brutal force, instantly coating the sides with thick white. The measuring cup shook in his grip as the sheer pressure made his wrist jolt.

Stretch’s face twisted into a slutty, unhinged grin. Eyes crossed. Drool dripping. He was giggling as the cup filled.

“Damn bro, you’re gonna overflow,” he gasped, edging harder, watching the creamy flood rise to the 100ml mark, then 200, then 300…

“OHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCK—BRO—THIS IS NUTS!”

SPLURRRRRRTTTT—!!

He overflowed it. Cum oozed down his hand, dripping onto the floor. Stretch dropped the cup and leaned forward, gasping, panting, cum still pouring from his swollen cock.

“New record…” he moaned.

He brought the measuring cup to his lips and gulped. A huge mouthful. Groaned. Then licked the rim.

“Bro’s got flavor, too…”

Experiment #2: Distance Test.

Stretch stood in the kitchen, still naked except for his flip-flops, gripping his cock like a firehose.

He aimed at the white wall.

“C’mon, Dalton… let’s repaint this bitch.”

Stroke. Stroke. Veins bulged along his arm, pecs flexing as he braced himself.

“NGGHH—RRRGHH—YEAH BRO—FUCKIN’—GOON BLAST!!!”

SPLAAAAT!

First shot hit the wall. Second arced across the microwave. Third splashed the floor. He stumbled, laughing, cum dripping off every surface.

He grabbed a Sharpie and marked the wall where the biggest load hit.

“Seven… fuckin’… feet,” he cackled. “You’re a cum sniper, Dalty boy.”

Experiment #3: “What Happens If I Edge for an Hour?”

Stretch laid back on the bed, setting up his camera, flip-flops crossed at the ankles, chest heaving, cock leaking nonstop onto a towel. Timer ticking on his phone.

He edged slow, whispering dirty talk to himself.

“Just a dumb science experiment, bro… turn your brain off… feel the cum boil…”

He slapped his thighs. Thrust his hips. Made Dalton’s sluttiest faces in the mirror. Crossed eyes, tongue out, drool string bouncing off his chin.

“Bro I’m gonna paint the fucking ceiling—nnnnggghhh!!”

Exactly one hour later?

BOOOOM—!!

The first blast shot past his head and smacked the headboard. He screamed in ecstasy, stroking furiously as wave after wave of cum drenched his chest, face, feet, and pillows.

“FUUUUUUCKKKK—BRO—IT’S IN MY HAIR!!!”

Experiment #4: “How many times in one day?”

Stretch lost count after nine.

His balls ached. His cock never fully went down. Every cumshot felt like pissing out a gallon of sticky white heat.

By the twelfth goon, he was cackling with joy.

“I fuckin’ broke this body, bro… Dalton’s just a walking cum volcano now…”

He rolled onto his side, eyes fluttering, covered in drying jizz, kissing his own shoulders and licking his fingers.

“Tomorrow, I’m testing what happens if I don’t cum for two days…”

He chuckled darkly.

“Bet I could flood the whole fuckin’ apartment.”

PART 3: SLUTTY DALTON HAS ARRIVED

It started with a Craigslist post.

18yo bro. Tan. Tight bubble butt. Home alone. Flip-flops on. Door’s unlocked. Come dump your load.

No name. No face. Just that. And within minutes of Stretch hitting “Post,” replies started pouring in.

But he didn’t care about names. Didn’t want bios. Didn’t want pleasantries.

He wanted anonymous cock inside the dumb, jizz-hungry body of Dalton—the tight-bodied, hyperspermic, 18-year-old flip-flop bro Stretch had possessed two days earlier and completely ruined.

He prepped the apartment like a goon altar.

Living room cleared. Rug pushed aside. A towel—already crusted from earlier experiments—laid out in the center. Mirrors positioned on every angle. Lights dimmed. Porn playing on mute. The air thick with sweat, poppers, and intent.

Stretch in Dalton’s body stood in the center of it all. Shirtless. Tanned. Flexing in the mirror with his cock leaking already, thick ropes of pre running down those muscled thighs. He wore nothing but a backwards cap and his black flip-flops.

“Goddamn, I’m the perfect little brohole,” Stretch moaned through Dalton’s voice, gripping that juicy bubble butt and spreading it in the mirror. “Let ‘em take me, bro. Use me. Dump it deep.”

He left the door unlocked.

First knock.

Stretch didn’t even answer. Just turned his back to the entrance and bent over on all fours, cock swinging between his legs, tongue out, flip-flops flexed on the hardwood as he wiggled his ass in slow, needy motions.

The door creaked open. A man’s breath caught.

Stretch heard him whisper, “Oh… fuck…” before the sound of a zipper sliding down filled the air.

Dalton’s possessed body shivered in anticipation.

The man didn’t say a word. Just dropped to his knees and slammed his cock in.

“NNNGHHHFFFUCKKKKYESSS!” Stretch screamed, head whipping back, drool flying from his lips as his hole got filled instantly. “Use me, bro! Fuckin’ split me open!”

The man did.

Hard. Grunting. Slamming into Dalton’s bubble butt like he’d paid for the privilege. Stretch moaned louder with every thrust, hands gripping the towel beneath him as his cock started leaking again, untouched.

“Yessir, yessir, use my fuckin’ brohole—fuck me dumb, bro—FILL ME—”

SPLURT.

He felt the first load shoot inside. Hot. Thick. Sloppy.

The man grunted and pulled out wordlessly, zipping up and walking out as fast as he came in.

Stretch collapsed onto his side, tongue out, cock twitching.

“One down…”

Ten minutes later. Another knock.

He didn’t look. Just flipped onto his back, cock standing proud, hole still wet and gaping. One flip-flop dangling from his toes.

“C’mere bro… got a cock to unload?” he slurred, eyes rolling. “Put it wherever. I’m your little goonsleeve tonight…”

The second guy stepped in—this one older. Beard. Jeans. He walked right over, dropped to his knees, and sucked.

“UUUNNNNGHHHH—BROOOOO—YEEESSSS!!”

Stretch’s cock exploded instantly. Hyperspermia in full force. He blasted everywhere—his chest, his throat, the guy’s face, even a shot across the mirror.

The man laughed, licking his lips.

“Fuck, you weren’t kidding about the ‘super soaker’ dick.”

Stretch drooled, twitching, nodding dumbly. “More where that came from, daddy…”

The man slid two fingers into his hole, Stretch squealed.

The door kept opening.

By midnight? Stretch had taken five strangers. Two fucked him. One came on his flip-flops. One guy face-fucked him so hard Dalton’s cap flew off. Another stroked himself watching, saying nothing, until he blasted across Stretch’s feet and left without a word.

He loved it.

Stretch worshipped it.

Dalton’s body was soaked in spit, sweat, and layers of random cum. His cock had cum eight times already, and it still throbbed—eager, proud, ready.

He crawled back into position, ass in the air, flip-flops squelching with every shift of his thighs.

“Door’s still open, bro…” he whispered into the air, smiling like a brainless fuckdoll. “Keep comin’. I’m free real estate.”

The Final Load.

The last guy of the night was massive. Sleeveless hoodie. Gloves. Work boots.

He didn’t talk. Just walked in, grabbed Stretch by the neck, and bent him over.

“Yeah, stretch me out, bro…” Stretch moaned, shaking, drooling onto the towel as the man lined up.

When he slammed in, Stretch let out the loudest moan yet—Dalton’s body twitched, toes curling in those jizz-stained flip-flops, cock gushing a full-blown load with zero stroking.

“OHFUCK—Y’MAKIN’ ME CUM, BRO—UNNNGH—SHITTTT—!”

The man grunted, sped up, and dumped a final brutal load inside Dalton’s stretched-out hole.

He slapped that bubble butt, zipped up, and left the door wide open as he walked out.

Stretch just laid there, wrecked, twitching in a puddle of sweat and goon.

His voice came out in a moan-drunk whisper: “Dalton’s just a… just a public fuckhole now… a leaking, flip-flop-wearin’ cum collector…”

He smiled.

And passed out in the mess.

The sun hadn’t even risen yet, but Stretch was already leaking.

Dalton’s cock twitched against his abs, crusted in dried loads from the first Craigslist session—his bubble butt still raw, flip-flops still soaked with cum and spit. He lay on the floor, breathing slow, dumb grin on his pretty face, drool trailing down his cheek.

But Stretch? He was still hungry.

The Craigslist ad had already been edited.

18yo bro. Cumdump. Door’s unlocked. Bring a friend. Double me. Flip-flops stay on. Cock never soft. Holes wide open.

Attached was a blurry mirror selfie—Dalton bent over, hole spread, tongue out, wearing just flip-flops and a backwards hat. His cock visibly dripping onto the floor.

Stretch pressed “post” with a giggle.

“Alright, bros,” he muttered into the dark apartment, grabbing Dalton’s cheeks and spreading them open in the mirror. “Who’s gonna be first to double-stuff this himbo hole?”

Knock. Knock.

Stretch didn’t answer. Just laid belly-down on the living room floor, feet kicked up in the air, flip-flops clapping softly with every bounce of his thighs.

The door opened slow.

Two dudes. Early 30s. One in sweats. One shirtless in slides.

They saw Dalton—face down, ass up, tongue out.

“Holy shit,” one said.

The other? Already undoing his belt.

Stretch giggled through Dalton’s lips. “C’mon in, boys. Daddy’s open for business.”

The first guy spit on his cock and lined up behind Dalton’s gaping hole. The second circled around and shoved his meat right into Stretch’s drooling mouth.

BOTH went in at the same time.

Stretch screamed into the cock down his throat, muffled moans shaking his chest as both his ends got filled. His cock started spraying without warning—cum squirting onto the towel below him in steady, twitching bursts.

Dalton’s whole body convulsed as Stretch choked and moaned.

“Fuckin’… dumb fuckin’ bro slut…” the guy fucking his throat growled.

“Gonna split this hole wide open…” the one behind him spat, pounding faster.

Stretch couldn’t even think. The stimulation was overwhelming. He drooled, gagged, came again. His flip-flops slid across the floor as his hips jerked uncontrollably.

They came at the same time.

BOOM.

One deep down his throat. The other filling his ass so full, white fluid dripped out before he’d even pulled out.

Stretch twitched in silence for ten seconds.

Then moaned, “Next…”

Next wave.

More guys showed up.

Two frat bros. One trucker. One married couple who just watched.

Every time the door opened, Stretch was already in position—face down, feet flexed, moaning like a bitch in heat. His cock never went soft. His balls stayed heavy. Every load just boiled up again, faster and thicker.

One pair took turns on his ass, stretching him out, spit-slicked and raw, laughing about it while the other took pics.

Stretch loved it.

He begged between loads: “Yessss, bros… keep fillin’ me up… make me your fuckin’ public cumdrone… just a himbo in flip-flops beggin’ to be ruined…”

By Hour Two:

Dalton had cum twelve times.

His hole gaped so wide, he could feel the breeze.

His flip-flops were soaked with sweat, cum, and floor grime.

His voice was hoarse from moaning, sucking, and chanting dirty talk on loop.

And still, Stretch wasn’t done.

He crawled to the couch, still naked, hole leaking, and recorded a new JOI video.

He stared into the camera, eyes half-crossed, drool on his chest.

“Bro… this body’s addicted, man… I ain’t gonna stop… I’m just a slut now. You hear me? I’m a dumb, dripping, flip-flop-wearin’ fuckhole.”

He moaned loud, then jerked himself into a fresh cup, overfilling it in seconds.

Then whispered, “Next time? I want five cocks. All at once.”

He licked the rim of the cup.

Smiled.

And crawled back to the front door, cock still hard.

TO BE CONTINUED? O_o

[ckhimboi]

[verus-veritas]

Fall From Grace

Damn. Who would’ve thought that experiencing a life-and-death situation like this would actually grant me a new body and life...

I was just standing up on that bridge over there and was peering down, when I accidentally slipped. And by complete coincidence you just happened to jog right under it when I fell. When we crashed into each other, the collision must have somehow scrambled our consciousness or spirits or something… Since I ended up in your muscular body and you in my old broken one!

….Okay. It may not have been a complete coincidence that I was up there. I was up there trying to take a peek at your sexy hunky body jogging by… as I’ve done for the last two years…

But the fall was completely by accident! I seriously thought I was going to die as I fell. I just remember seeing your surprised albeit still sexy face looking up at me, and wishing I could’ve at least felt your perfect body up before I died…

I mean, this wasn’t exactly what I imagined… no… this is much better! Now I can feel, see, and taste your body up, whenever I want! Starting with these sweaty armpits of yours!

Oh, yeah. It doesn’t look good for you buddy. Pretty sure that bone isn’t supposed to stick out like that… I’ve called the ambulance, but I doubt they’ll get here in time. Not that I’ll be here when they arrive… No, I’m gonna find myself the closest public bathroom around here, and I’m going to worship my sexy body and jerk myself completely dry.

Call me a creepy stalker if you want, but there’s no denying that it all paid off in the end. As I landed, quite literally, into the body of my most feverish dreams.

I am you now, and you are me. And as soon as you’re gone… no one will ever know what happened here. A perfect switcheroo. Completely untraceable, and joyously irreversible.