Body Transformation

Tales of bodysuit erotica—disguise fiction and comics across genres; adults only, AI-enhanced visuals.

[myster-roca]

The Vault Unmasking Collection #1-2:

Adrian Wolfe as the Chancellor Markus Halbrecht

Markus Halbrecht appears to be the perfect statesman, with silver hair, an immaculate suit, and a gaze that commands respect wherever he goes. He moves through elite circles with the confidence of a man who possesses every secret in the room. Yet Markus is only a carefully constructed façade, worn with precision by Adrian Wolfe, a former intelligence prodigy who vanished after uncovering the Vault’s forbidden skin technology. Adrian now lives behind a face that is not his own, selling identities to powerful men who wish to inhabit a different male form each night.

Jaxon Mire as Rafe Calderon

Rafe Calderon looks every bit the dangerous alpha, with thick arms, a leather-clad chest, and a stare that holds equal parts promise and threat. When he steps into a room, men feel the weight of him before he speaks. But Rafe is only the surface, a sculpted exterior worn by Jaxon Mire, a man who stole this body from the Vault’s restricted archives. Inside that powerful suit, Jaxon savors every flex and breath of the form he was never meant to own.

Dorian Kessler as Silvio Grant, the Magistrate

Silvio Grant stands with the slow confidence of a man who knows others watch him, his broad form wrapped in a flawless pinstripe suit and a gaze that makes lesser men lower their eyes. The Magistrate draws respect with a single look, his presence thick with power and the kind of temptation that makes weaker men swallow hard. But Silvio is only the surface, a formidable body worn by Dorian Kessler, the lean infiltrator who slips inside this towering suit to taste a life richer and heavier than his own. Beneath the layers of borrowed mass, Dorian presses deeper into the man he pretends to be, hungry for everything this body lets him feel.

Elias Solis as Colton Vance, the Night Courier

Colton Vance moves through the alley with calm allure, his blond hair catching the soft glow of the streetlights and his tailored coat shaping him into something dangerously inviting. The Night Courier is known for slipping close to powerful men, drawing information from their mouths with little more than a touch or a quiet smile. But Colton is only the exterior, a refined face worn by Elias Solis, the quiet operator who pulls himself deeper into this beautiful form each time he steps inside it. Wrapped in the warmth and confidence of the man he pretends to be, Elias lives for the thrill of wearing a life that fits him too well.

Rylan Creed as Kael Drayton

Kael Drayton is a self-made magnate, his dark beard precisely groomed and his tailored jacket framing a body built for command. Men watch him enter a room without understanding the pull of his calm, intoxicating stare. But this man is not Kael Drayton. The real magnate disappeared months ago after a covert operation left him sedated inside a Vault containment chamber, his identity preserved as a rentable form. The figure wearing him now is Rylan Creed, a deep-cover agent assigned to infiltrate Kael’s corporation after intelligence hinted that the magnate was channeling funds into an unregistered bio-enhancement program tied to the Vault. Sliding into Kael’s formidable body each night, Rylan feels the borrowed life tug at him, urging him to forget the mission and become the man everyone already believes he is.

Kieran Holt as the Executive Proxy Alden Crest

Alden Crest moves like a high-ranking director of a pharmaceutical company, his auburn hair polished to perfection and his tailored suit drawing quiet attention wherever he walks. People feel the pull of him without knowing why, sensing something dangerously alluring beneath his calm. But Alden is only the surface, a flawless identity stolen by the intern Kieran Holt after he made contact with the Vault and was granted access to the director’s preserved form. Slipping into Alden’s skin gave Kieran the power he had craved for years, and now he sinks deeper into the borrowed life, losing himself in the warmth and strength of the man he pretends to be.

Evan Stroud as the Retired Everyman Burke Halden

Burke Halden sits in the quiet glow of his small apartment, his rounded frame wrapped in a wool sweater and his steady hands moving across his face with a tired familiarity. The world sees an unremarkable man, someone built for soft evenings and anonymity, but Burke is only a surface borrowed for peace. The one inside him is Evan Stroud, a runaway model whose beauty once filled billboards and magazine covers until the endless eyes and pressure of fame drove him to flee. Friends inside the Vault offered him this quieter existence, gifting him Burke’s plain but comforting form, and each time Evan pulls the average skin over his flawless body, he feels a forbidden pleasure bloom as he sinks into a life no one would ever think to chase.

Solan Elleron

Solan Elleron rises from the pool with a slow, unguarded confidence, golden hair pressed to his shoulders and water sliding down a body almost too flawless for a man who claims to live quietly. What no one sees is the past he is hiding. Solan once lived under another name, a quiet archivist who uncovered something forbidden: a list of erased identities maintained by the Vault. To save himself, he struck a pact with a Vault broker who offered him one of those discarded lives, a perfect shell to disappear inside. Now Solan moves within the borrowed face of a man who no longer exists, letting it cling to him in ways that feel dangerously intimate, and each night he stands in the darkness by the water, wondering how long he can hold on before the life he stole swallows him whole.

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Continue the experience, follow for more: https://linktr.ee/mysteroca

[myster-roca]

Another One from "The Vault"

The air was warm, dense with quiet tension. He stood before the mirror, chest rising in a slow, steady rhythm, eyes locked on the man staring back. His hands glided down to the hem of his white polo and lifted it over his head in one languid sweep. The fabric grazed his skin, whispering as it slipped away, leaving a cool trail against the heat beneath.

For a heartbeat he lingered, studying the illusion. Blond hair. Pale skin. A neat beard framing a face that was never his. A hint of a smile curved his lips as his fingers curled around the beard. It came loose with a delicate sound, like a secret unfastened. A soft rush of air kissed the bare skin beneath.

His fingers sank into the golden strands next, possessive and unhurried. For a moment the hair clung, as if reluctant to let him go, then yielded beneath his grip. The beard came away first, warm in his palm, followed by the wig sliding free, falling like silk surrendering to gravity. His touch lingered on the smooth curve of his head, eyes fluttering shut as a slow breath escaped him.

Then came the pull. His fingertips pressed into the line of his jaw, coaxing the edge where the false skin met him. A subtle stretch filled the silence. The skin peeled away slowly, savoring each moment as the pale exterior rolled back beneath his hands.

Warmth and breath spilled into the air. He held the shell for a moment, limp and weightless in his grasp, its borrowed beauty already dissolving into nothing. Then he let it fall.

The mirror caught him now not as an echo, but as the truth itself. The man who remained was carved in warmth and shadow. Dark. Living. Real.

[myster-roca]

One secret peeled away ... tempting you toward the forbidden underneath. The Vault opens soon.

[myster-roca]

The Midnight Delivery

Gary clenched the handlebars, his motorcycle slicing through the night as he weaved between dimly lit streets. He was late. Again. If he didn’t deliver this pizza soon, he’d be paying for it out of his own pocket.

As he rounded a corner at speed, the unexpected glare of red and blue lights lit up the street ahead. A police checkpoint.

He tried to make a detour to avoid it but a police car blocked his path. He had no choice but to stop.

"Where are you going so fast?" a police officer asked him.

The delivery guy looked worried and stressed, with his belly fat hanging over his waist, his belly button piercing and his blond hair tied in a bun.

"I need to deliver pizza," he explained. "If I don't deliver it in time, the pizzeria will charge me a penalty for it. I can't afford that. I'm in a very tight spot."

The officer looked at him strangely. "And where exactly are you delivering this?"

“Just past the industrial park, near the northern edge,” Gary replied, a little too fast. "Please, let me go, I'm running really late!"

The officer gave him a strange look, then called out to his colleagues, "Hey, we have something here."

Other two police officers approached him, and the three of them started asking him a lot of questions.

The pizza delivery guy had no idea what was going on, until the last of the police officers said, "Listen, someone stole the Aurelian jewels earlier tonight. We’ve got roadblocks up all over. You see anyone suspicious? Anyone acting off?"

Gary shook his head. "No, sir. Nothing like that," he answered. "Can I go now, please? I really need to deliver this pizza."

The officers lingered a moment longer, then one gave a slow nod. “Alright. You can go. But keep your eyes open. Things have been… strange around the city lately.”

“I will. Thanks,” Gary said, relief flooding through him as he fired up the engine.

He didn’t look back as he sped off into the night. The city lights grew sparser as he neared the outskirts, where buildings stood like hollowed-out husks, abandoned and forgotten. His GPS guided him toward an address he didn’t recognize, a place that didn’t seem to belong in any of his usual delivery zones.

As he approached, an uneasy feeling twisted in his gut. The structure loomed ahead—old, forgotten, its walls cracked and stained with time. It looked abandoned, like no one had set foot there in years. The only light came from his motorcycle's headlights, casting long, flickering shadows that danced across the crumbling facade.

He killed the engine. The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It was oppressive, like the night itself had taken a breath and was holding it. The faint ticking of the motorcycle’s cooling engine echoed in the stillness as he reached for his phone.

He had saved the customer's number earlier. He tapped it. It rang once.

“Hey, I’m outside,” he said. He tried to sound casual, but the words came out stiff. “Is this the right place? It looks… deserted.”

There was a pause. Then the voice returned, calm and quiet, as if coming from far away.

“Yes. You’re in the right place. Come inside.”

Before Gary could respond, the line went dead.

He stared at the screen for a moment longer, then looked up. The building stood in silence. The only part visible from where he stood was the door, hanging slightly ajar, as if someone had just gone inside and hadn’t bothered to close it.

He had made deliveries in sketchy areas before, but something about this felt different. He’d never seen a structure so run-down and lifeless, yet so heavy with presence.

Still, the voice had been firm. And the tip, if real, would be enough to cover more than just this week’s bills.

He stepped off the bike, gripping the box like a shield. The heat of the pizza pressed against his stomach, grounding him for a moment. The gravel shifted beneath his boots as he made his way toward the entrance.

The air changed when he crossed the threshold. It was colder, thicker. The kind of cold that didn’t come from temperature but from something else entirely.

"Hello?" His voice broke the silence, but only barely.

There was no reply.

His footfalls echoed softly against the cracked tile floor as he stepped deeper inside. The building was eerily still, the kind of quiet that pressed against your eardrums like pressure underwater. The pizza box in his hands felt heavier with every step. Cold sweat clung to his lower back.

“You made it.”

As he turned, Gary caught sight of a figure emerging from the shadows. A man, well-built and wearing a white polo shirt that clung to his defined chest.

“You’re probably wondering why I brought you here,” the man said, his voice low and smooth. “Why I chose you out of all the pizza delivery guys in the city.”

Gary frowned. “Yeah, that’s one of the things on my mind.”

The man stepped forward, a glint in his eye. “It’s because I know you. Or rather, you know me.”

Gary squinted at the man, trying to place him. There was something familiar about his vibe, about the way he carried himself.

“I… I don’t…”

The man grinned. “C’mon. You can’t forget a voice like this, can you?”

And then he spoke, his voice dropping an octave, becoming deeper, smoother. “You’ve got a nice cock. Ever since we hooked up, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Gary’s eyes widened. “Nathan? Is that you?”

The man nodded, his grin widening. “In the flesh. Well, sort of.”

Gary couldn’t believe it. Nathan was the guy he’d hooked up with just two days ago, a gorgeous man with a cock that Gary hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. They’d had an incredible night together, but when Gary woke up the next morning, Nathan was gone.

Now, standing before him, was someone… altered. The man’s skin looked freshly tanned, tight over muscle, like sculpted bronze. His white polo shirt hugged a broad chest and firm pecs, and the sleeves strained around biceps that hadn’t been there before. His jawline was sharper, more chiseled, the faintest shadow of stubble adding to the rough, masculine edge.

“Why are you here?” Gary asked. “And why are you… like this?”

Nathan chuckled. “Let’s just say I’m wearing a very realistic body suit. It was the only way I could think of to meet you again, to show you what I’ve been working on.”

Gary frowned. “What do you mean?”

Nathan stepped closer, his eyes locked on Gary’s. “I know you, Gary. I know what you want. What you fantasize about. Becoming a different man. Experiencing different types of men. Well, I’ve got good news for you.”

He gestured to his own body. “This isn’t just any suit. It’s part of a secret project I’ve been working on. A transforming body suit. And I want you to try it.”

Gary stared at Nathan, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. “Are you serious?”

Nathan nodded. “Dead serious. I want you to touch it .. feel what it’s like. Run your hands over every inch of this skin I’m wearing.”

Gary felt a rush of excitement, his cock beginning to harden at the thought. The idea of it was intoxicating and irresistible. He looked down at Nathan's body again, at the muscles and the strength, and he felt a surge of power and possibility.

He felt like he was going to cum just from thinking about it. It all seemed too good to be true, too impossible. But as he stared at Nathan's perfect body, he knew he couldn't resist.

Gary looked him in the eyes. “Okay,” he said, his voice firm. “Let’s do it.”

Nathan began stripping off his clothes, and Gary followed suit, his heart pounding with anticipation. He couldn’t wait to see what Nathan had in store for him.

Both men were now fully naked, and Gary couldn't help but stare at Nathan's perfect body. His cock was thick and hard, curved slightly upward, and Gary felt a sudden urge to touch it, to taste it.

Nathan noticed his gaze and smirked. "Like what you see?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

Gary nodded, unable to speak. Nathan stepped closer, his cock now inches from Gary's face.

"Why don't you show me how much you like it?" Nathan said, his voice dripping with suggestion.

Gary didn't need to be told twice. He leaned forward and took Nathan's cock into his mouth, sucking eagerly. Nathan groaned, his hands tangling in Gary's hair as he thrust gently into his mouth.

After a few minutes, Nathan pulled away, his cock slick with saliva. "Damn, you're good at that," he said, his breathing heavy. "But I think you could do even better if you were wearing this suit."

Gary looked up at him, confused. "How do I do that?"

Nathan grinned. "Just watch." He reached to his back and peeled off his own body suit, revealing his true form.

Gary gasped in shock. Beneath the hyper-realistic body suit was another suit, this one made of some kind of black latex material. And beneath that suit was Nathan's true form, a body that Gary recognized all too well.

It was his own body, soft and round, with a round belly and thick thighs.

Nathan held out the discarded hyper-realistic bodysuit and gently pressed it against Gary's chest. It felt warm to the touch, its flesh-like texture clinging softly to his palm. It was surprisingly heavy—like the weight of real skin.

“Feel how lifelike it is?” Nathan said, his fingers brushing Gary's as he traced the suit’s contours. “Just imagine it wrapped around you. What would you do?”

Gary hesitated. He was overweight, his body far from the idealized form of the suit. But Nathan's eyes were so earnest, so eager.

“I… I’m not sure it would fit me,” Gary stammered, feeling a wave of self-consciousness.

Nathan smiled and stepped closer.

“Oh, it will fit,” he said with confidence. “Trust me. What I’m wearing now is a 'body reshaper'. It will make your body into whatever form you want.”

He pointed to the hyper-realistic skin. “That is for the outside world to see. This black suit is what makes the magic happen.”

Gary felt a shiver of anticipation mixed with fear. What if it didn’t work? What if he was stuck in some grotesque halfway form? He shook his head, trying to clear the doubts.

“But… but how?” Gary asked, his curiosity piqued.

Without warning, the tight latex suit began to shimmer, its glossy surface rippling like disturbed water. A low hiss escaped as the material softened and slithered downward, liquefying into thick, black ooze.

The dark liquid crept deliberately over Nathan’s ass, pooling into the curve before settling between his cheeks.

Nathan's smile widened. He reached behind himself and produced something that looked like a butt plug, but made out of the same material as the black latex suit. He held it up for Gary to see.

“This is a reshaper,” he explained. “Once inserted, it will begin to reshape your body from the inside out, creating the perfect form for the outer suit.”

Gary stared at it, a mix of fascination and trepidation swirling in his stomach.

“How… how long does it take?” he asked hesitantly.

Nathan shrugged. “A few minutes, maybe. But the results are worth it.” He stepped closer to Gary, the reshaper held out in offering.

Gary nodded, hardly able to speak. With trembling hands, Gary reached out and took the reshaper. It was warm to the touch, almost pulsing with a strange energy.

Gary swallowed hard, then turned away from Nathan and bent over slightly, positioning himself. He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding, then slowly began to insert the reshaper.

There was a moment of slight discomfort as it entered him, but it quickly subsided, replaced by a strange tingling sensation that spread from his core outward. Gary gasped, his fingers clutching at the nearby table for support as he felt his body begin to shift and change.

It wasn’t painful, exactly, but it was intense, overwhelming. He could feel his muscles rearranging themselves, his bones shifting, his very form altering in ways he couldn’t fully comprehend. The sensation was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before.

As the reshaper continued its work, Gary felt something else happening. The object inside him seemed to dissolve, to melt away, and in its place came a warm, viscous liquid that began to seep from his body.

Gary looked down in amazement as he saw the black liquid oozing from his ass, spreading across his skin like some kind of living oil. It covered his legs, his stomach, his chest, and as it did, Gary felt his body continue to change, to reshape itself.

The sensation was strange and thrilling, a mix of pleasure and fear that left Gary breathless and wanting more.

He watched in fascination as the black liquid enveloped him completely, and he felt his body becoming leaner, stronger, more muscular with each passing second.

Finally, the transformation was complete. Gary looked at his reflection and barely recognized himself. His new body was everything he’d ever dreamed of—muscular and toned, with broad shoulders and a flat stomach. He flexed his arm, marveling at the defined muscles that rippled beneath his skin.

“It’s… incredible,” he breathed.

Nathan stepped beside him, a look of satisfaction on his face. “Now for the finishing touch,” he said.

He helped Gary into the hyper-realistic outer skin, and as the suit enveloped him, Gary felt another wave of sensations — less intense than before, but no less profound. He could feel the suit adjusting, fine-tuning his form to absolute perfection. As it clung to his new physique, Gary knew he had truly become someone else.

He stepped toward the nearby mirror, hardly believing the reflection staring back. He was lean, muscular, and devastatingly handsome. Everything he’d ever wanted to be.

"How… how is this possible?" he breathed.

Nathan’s reflection appeared beside his in the mirror. "It’s advanced technology," he explained. "The black suit you’re wearing under the skin contains microscopic machines that reshape your body, rearrange your cells, and sculpt the perfect physique. And the outer layer…" He gestured to the hyper-realistic skin Gary was wearing. "This makes sure the world sees exactly what you want them to see."

Gary ran his hands down his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath the skin. It felt real. It looked real. It was real.

Gary couldn't tear his eyes away from his reflection. He flexed, watching as his muscles rippled and bulged. He turned, admiring the tight curves of his ass, the broad expanse of his back.

It was intoxicating, exhilarating, to see himself this way.

He looked at Nathan, a newfound confidence surging through him. “So, what now?” he asked, unable to keep the eagerness from his voice.

Nathan smirked, his eyes gleaming with intent. “Now,” he said softly, stepping closer to Gary. “Now we have some fun.”

His hand brushed Gary’s chest, fingertips tracing the defined muscles there. Gary felt a jolt of electricity at the touch, his new body responding in ways his old one never had.

“What kind of fun?” Gary asked, trying to keep his voice steady even as his heart raced.

Without warning, he ducked down and took Gary’s cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the thick shaft. Gary groaned, his hips thrusting forward instinctively. Nathan took him deeper, sucking hard, his fingers digging into Gary’s muscular ass.

“Fuck,” Gary gasped, one hand tangling in Nathan’s hair while the other gripped the wall for support. “Oh fuck, that’s good.”

Nathan pulled back, releasing Gary’s cock with a wet pop. He stood up, his eyes dark with desire. “Good?” he repeated. “We’re just getting started.”

He pressed Gary back against the wall, their bodies flush against each other. Gary could feel Nathan’s erection pressing against his thigh, hot and hard. He rocked his hips, creating delicious friction between them.

“I want you,” Nathan growled against Gary’s ear. “I want to fuck you until you can’t walk. Until you’re begging for more.”

Gary moaned, the words sending a shiver of desire through him. “Yes,” he breathed. “Please, Nathan. Fuck me.”

Nathan didn’t need any more encouragement. He spun Gary around, pressing him face-first against the wall. Gary felt strong hands spreading his cheeks, and then Nathan’s tongue was on him, licking and probing his ass. Gary cried out, the sensation overwhelming in the best way.

“Like that?” Nathan asked, his voice muffled against Gary’s flesh.

“Y-yes,” Gary managed to stammer. “Oh god, yes.”

Nathan stood up, and Gary heard the sound of a cap popping open. A moment later, cool lube dribbled down his crack, quickly replaced by the warm press of Nathan’s cock against his entrance.

Gary braced himself, but he still wasn’t prepared for the sensation of Nathan entering him. It was a delicious stretch, a burn that melted into pure pleasure as Nathan sank deeper and deeper into him.

“Shit,” Gary hissed, pushing back to meet Nathan’s thrusts. “You feel so good inside me.”

Nathan chuckled, the sound low and sexy. “You have no idea,” he said. He pulled out almost all the way, then slammed back in, making Gary cry out.

They fell into a hard, fast rhythm, Nathan pounding into Gary from behind while Gary met each thrust with eager pushes of his own. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, mingling with their grunts and moans.

Gary was lost in the sensation, in the sheer bliss of being fucked like this. He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening as Nathan’s cock hit his prostate with every thrust.

“I’m close,” he gasped, his fingernails scraping against the wall as he struggled to hold on.

Nathan reached around and grabbed Gary’s dick, stroking in time with his thrusts. “Come for me,” he growled into Gary’s ear. “Let me feel you come on my cock.”

That was all it took. Gary came hard, his body shaking as waves of pleasure washed over him. Nathan continued to fuck him through his orgasm, drawing it out until Gary thought he might collapse from the intensity.

Finally, Nathan stilled, his cock buried deep inside Gary as he came too. They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing hard, their bodies trembling with aftershocks.

Slowly, Nathan pulled out, and Gary turned to face him. They were both covered in a sheen of sweat, their skin slick against each other as they embraced.

“That was…” Gary started, but couldn’t find the words.

Nathan laughed softly. “It was just the beginning,” he said. “Now I have another surprise…”

He reached down and squeezed Gary’s cock, which was still semi-hard. To Gary’s shock, black goo began to ooze from the tip, the same viscous liquid that had created his new body.

“What.. what’s happening?” Gary gasped, trying to pull away, but Nathan held him firm.

“Don’t worry,” Nathan said, but there was something in his eyes that made Gary’s blood run cold. “This is all part of the process.”

Nathan released his grip and the black goo continued to flow, it began to spread across Gary’s skin, moving up his body with an inexorable, almost sentient purpose.

Gary struggled, but it was no use—the liquid was too strong, too insistent. It crept over his chest, his neck, his face, and soon Gary was completely enveloped in the black, viscous substance.

Panic set in as Gary realized he couldn’t move. The liquid was covering his mouth, his nose, his eyes, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was trapped, imprisoned in this new form, and Nathan’s smile was the last thing he saw before the liquid covered his eyes completely.

“What… what have you done to me?” he tried to say, but no sound came out. He realized, to his horror, that he had no mouth, no way to speak or eat or even breathe. He was completely sealed within this black, featureless shell.

Nathan’s laugh echoed in his ears. “Oh, Gary,” he said, a cruel edge creeping into his voice. “I’ve given you exactly what you wanted—a perfect body. And now, I’ll be making use of yours.”

As Gary struggled to comprehend what was happening, Nathan reached up and began to peel away his own face. It was not his real face. It was a mask, a flawless replica of human skin that had concealed his true identity.

Beneath it, Nathan’s real face was revealed. Still handsome, but in a more angular, almost unnatural way. His cheekbones were sharply defined, and his eyes seemed to glow with an inner light.

“What are you?” Gary tried to ask, but again, no sound came out.

From the shadows, Nathan dragged out something bulky and fleshy. Gary heard the gentle unfold of the material, followed by a slow, sticky stretch that curled in his ears. Then came a soft grunt and a sticky glide, like warm flesh being swallowed whole. It was a suit—a hyper-realistic fat suit. Each shift in motion echoed through Gary’s senses as if it were happening inside his own body.

“I scanned your body while you were asleep,” Nathan explained, stepping into the suit. “After our little encounter in the hotel, of course. I needed a perfect template, and you provided it beautifully.”

The suit was a replica of Gary's own chest, complete with love handles and a prominent belly that hung slightly over the waistband of the suit’s underwear.

Nathan tugged it up his legs. The fat pads clung to him, hugging every curve and bulge like a second skin. He squeezed and poked at the flesh, seemingly entranced by the way it jiggled and bounced like the real thing.

“You see, Gary, I need a new identity to throw the police off my trail,” Nathan continued, stroking the fat suit almost lovingly. “And what better way than to literally step into someone else’s skin?”

He pulled the suit higher. The flesh settled with a wet thump over his torso. He adjusted the belly with both hands, smoothing it out and admiring how it bounced when he let go.

“It’s just like yours, Gary,” he said. “Soft… squishy…”

He gave the belly a firm squeeze, watching it bulge between his fingers. Then he turned his attention to the suit’s ass, kneading and groping it for several long moments, clearly enjoying the feel of the soft, jiggly flesh.

“Mmm, yes,” he whispered. “This is going to be so much fun.”

There was a secret pocket hidden in the belly, cleverly disguised as a roll of fat. He unzipped it, revealing a compartment concealed within the suit itself. Reaching for a nearby sack, he unceremoniously dumped its contents into the hidden pocket. The rustle of jewels, the faint clinks as they knocked together, were muffled by the layers of flesh-like material.

The stolen gems settled into their new home with a satisfying weight, giving the fat suit an even greater sense of realism. It felt more authentic. More alive.

Nathan’s eyes gleamed with triumph as he smoothed the suit back into place, fingers gliding over the artificial flesh to ensure everything was perfectly hidden.

He turned to the floor where the final pieces of Gary's likeness waited. The mask rested there, unnervingly lifelike, its skin supple and pale beneath the dim light. Beside it lay the gloves, still and open like discarded hands.

The texture was precise, the skin molded to capture the familiar creases that trailed along the knuckles and the soft pads of the fingertips.

Nathan picked up the gloves and slid his fingers into one. The lining welcomed him with a cool, tender touch, then slowly adapted to the shape of his hand. The second glove followed, gliding over his skin like poured silk. Once it settled into place, he raised both hands, admiring their new identity. He flexed slowly, watching the gloves move in perfect sync, mirroring his gestures with eerie precision.

Finally, it was time for the mask. He lifted it by the edges and drew it over his face. The opening stretched, then slowly contracted around his features, the interior pressing against his skin with a soft, almost affectionate touch.

As he adjusted it, the mask tightened, sealing along his neck and hairline with a faint hiss. It began to warm, molding to the contours of his face until it felt like it belonged. His fingers traced the edges, finding no gap, no flaw—only skin.

He stood before the full-length mirror, running his hands over the contours of his borrowed form. The suit’s soft, yielding flesh invited exploration, and he couldn’t help but indulge. His fingers sank into the fat around his waist, the sensation strangely satisfying.

“Amazing,” Nathan whispered, his gaze tracing the outline of his new belly, the gentle bulge of his stomach. “You’ve outdone yourself this time, Gary.”

He turned sideways, watching his new body shift and settle. He couldn’t resist giving his ass a firm squeeze, grinning at the way it jiggled in response. The sensation was electric, sending a thrill through him that went beyond mere touch.

Nathan found himself lost in the experience, mesmerized by the way the suit seemed to come alive under his caresses. He spent several minutes just exploring, learning the limits and possibilities of his new form.

Finally, he shook himself free of the spell, remembering the task at hand. It was time to complete the transformation.

From the pile of discarded clothes, he retrieved Gary’s uniform. The black pants were loose and comfortable, sliding easily over the suit’s legs. The fabric settled against the synthetic flesh, hugging the curves and bulges with surprising authenticity. He fastened the waistband, adjusting it slightly to accommodate his new shape.

Next came the socks and shoes—simple black sneakers that slipped on easily. They completed the illusion, grounding the suit in reality.

Finally, he picked up the shirt. It was a bright red, short-sleeved polo, thin and lightweight, designed to cling. Nathan held it for a moment, running his fingers across the soft cotton, then pulled it over his head.

The fabric fell into place across his chest, pressing smoothly against the fat suit beneath. He eased it down over his torso, each motion drawing the shirt closer to his new form, accentuating the fullness of his belly and the softness along his sides.

The collar settled perfectly around his neck, and the sleeves embraced his arms with a gentle touch. It fit too well, too naturally, blurring the boundary between disguise and identity.

“Perfect,” he whispered, brushing his fingertips along the lines of his new face. “Absolutely perfect.”

Nathan smiled at himself in the mirror, satisfied with his new appearance. He would pass as Gary without a doubt.

He turned to look at the real Gary, still trapped within the black, formless prison that Nathan had created for him. “I’m sorry it had to be this way, Gary,” he said, though he knew Gary couldn’t hear him through the impenetrable shell that now contained him. “But you'll have a new life once this is over.”

With a final glance at his captive, Nathan turned and left the old building, closing the door behind him. Gary’s bike was still parked outside, and Nathan mounted it with ease. He kicked it to life and roared off into the night, headed for his partner's apartment.

He passed several policemen on the road, but none of them gave him a second glance. To them, he was just another pizza delivery guy, hurrying home after a late night shift. Nathan grinned to himself, knowing that they had no idea who he really was.

When he reached his partner's apartment building, Nathan parked the bike and went inside. He rode the elevator to the top floor, tension coiling in his chest with every passing second.

As he stepped out onto the penthouse level, he saw his partner waiting for him by the door. He looked worried and impatient, but his expression changed to one of relief when he saw Gary's face.

“There you are!” his partner exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace him. “I’ve been worried sick. Where have you been?”

Nathan pulled back, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry about that,” he said, his voice perfectly mimicking Gary’s. “I got held up. The police are swarming all over the place out there. I had to go with the Gary plan.”

His partner let out a breathless laugh, more relief than amusement, and cupped Nathan’s cheek with one hand.

“You wear his face too well,” he murmured. “It’s almost unsettling.”

“Is it convincing?” Nathan asked softly, arching an eyebrow in perfect Gary fashion.

His partner stepped in closer, his thumb now resting along Nathan’s lower lip. “Convincing isn’t the word. It feels… real.” He leaned in, their breaths meeting in the space between. “Too real.”

Nathan didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in, just enough to close the space between them. Their lips met in a kiss, soft at first, then growing deeper, hungrier. His partner moaned against him, his arms wrapping around Nathan’s waist, pulling him closer.

When they finally broke apart, his partner rested his forehead against Nathan’s and whispered, “Thank goodness. I thought something had happened to you.”

Nathan laughed, following him into the apartment. It was luxurious and modern, with huge windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city below.

“Nothing to worry about,” he assured his partner, dropping onto the plush couch. “Just some complications here and there. But everything’s fine now.”

His partner studied him closely, a knowing glint in his eyes. “I see,” he said slowly. “And did you… take care of everything?”

Nathan smiled, reaching up to remove the mask that hid his true face. His partner’s eyes widened in relief as Nathan’s familiar features were revealed.

“It’s done,” Nathan confirmed, rubbing his belly. “The jewels are safe, and no one suspects a thing. Not even our friend Gary.”

His partner shook his head in disbelief. “You really went all out this time, didn’t you?” he said, a mix of admiration and exasperation in his tone. “A whole skinsuit, just to steal some jewels? You could have done this without all the theatrics, you know.”

Nathan shrugged, unrepentant. “Where’s the fun in that?” he retorted, grinning. “Besides, I needed to test the limits of my invention. It worked perfectly.”

“And what about Gary?” his partner asked, still looking concerned. “What will happen to him now?”

Nathan waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, he’ll be fine,” he said. “When the black goo finishes its work, he’ll wake up in a new body. Consider it my parting gift to him.”

His partner snorted, clearly unimpressed. “You and your twisted sense of generosity,” he muttered, shaking his head. “One of these days, you’re going to get us both caught with your elaborate schemes.”

Nathan laughed, pulling him down onto the couch beside him. “Come on, don’t be such a spoilsport,” he teased, nuzzling against his neck. “Admit it, you love it when I push the boundaries. It’s what drew you to me in the first place, remember?”

His partner sighed, but Nathan could feel his resolve weakening. He pressed his advantage, trailing kisses along his jawline and down his throat.

“You know you love me,” he murmured, his hands sliding lower to caress his partner’s growing bulge. “And you love what I can do. So stop pretending to be all moral and upright. It doesn’t suit you.”

His partner moaned softly, arching into Nathan’s touch. “I do love you,” he admitted, turning to capture Nathan’s lips in a passionate kiss. “But you drive me crazy sometimes, you know that?”

Nathan grinned against his mouth. “That’s why you keep me around, isn’t it?” he teased, his fingers working busily at his partner’s zipper. “For the excitement I bring into your boring, predictable life.”

His partner growled playfully, nipping at Nathan’s bottom lip. “You’re a menace, you know that?” he said, his hands sliding under Nathan’s shirt to explore the soft, yielding flesh of the body suit. “A gorgeous, infuriating menace.”

He reached down, stroking his partner’s erection through his jeans. “Can’t wait to show you our baby,” he purred, his other hand caressing his own belly. The jewels inside seemed to pulse with anticipation, adding to his arousal.

His partner’s eyes darkened with lust, his hand joining Nathan’s on his stomach. “Me neither,” he growled, capturing Nathan’s wrist. He claimed Nathan’s mouth once more, and Nathan surrendered to the kiss, letting his partner take control. It was intoxicating, being desired so fiercely, so completely. It made all the risks, all the elaborate schemes, worth it.

After a long, breathless moment, his partner pulled back, a smile playing on his lips.

“We can finally escape this country, start a new life together,” he said, excitement shining in his eyes. “And this time, no one will be able to track us down. I’ve prepared a new identity for you, complete with fake documents and a background history. We’ll be free, Nathan. Really free.”

Nathan’s heart swelled with emotion at his partner’s words. He knew how much effort he had put into creating this new identity, into planning their escape. It wasn’t just about the jewels or the thrill of the heist anymore. It was about them, their future together.

His partner pulled out a rectangular package. “Here,” he said, handing it to Nathan with a smile. “Your new face.”

He unwrapped it slowly, savoring the moment, and gasped as he revealed the mask inside. Nathan took it with trembling hands, his pulse racing with anticipation.

It was beautiful, crafted with the same attention to detail that all of Nathan’s false identities possessed. This face was different from Gary’s, though. It had a full, neatly groomed beard that framed a strong jawline, and thick, slicked-back hair that added to its bold appearance.

Nathan couldn’t resist the urge to put it on immediately. He began to undress, removing Gary’s uniform piece by piece.

The leather costume his partner had brought waited on the couch, chosen carefully for this persona. He had chosen it specifically for this new identity, wanting to project an image of strength and power.

He picked up the black V-neck shirt and pulled it over his head. The fabric slid across his skin, soft and close. As it settled against his chest, it followed the rise of his belly and the slope of his shoulders without resistance.

He tugged the hem down, smoothing it against his torso. The neckline dipped just enough to expose the upper part of his chest, warm and steady beneath the light.

Next, he stepped into the leather pants. The leather pressed close around his thighs, wrapping his legs in a steady, enclosing grip. He adjusted the waistband, letting his fingers linger as he secured the button and pulled the zipper up. Nathan couldn’t help but admire how the pants shaped him, emphasizing the fullness of his hips and the firm weight of his frame.

He lifted the leather jacket from the couch and slid one arm through, then the other. The sleeves resisted slightly, creasing as they adjusted to his form. He rolled his shoulders back to settle the jacket in place, feeling the weight of it across his arms and chest.

The final touch was a pair of heavy black boots. He eased his feet into them, the snug interior gripping around his ankles. He crouched to lace them up with care, tugging each loop firm. When he stood, the full weight of the outfit settled on him.

Finally, with a deep breath, Nathan reached for the mask. His partner came up behind him, gently removing it from his grasp. “Let me,” he whispered, his lips brushing against Nathan’s ear. “You deserve to be pampered tonight.”

Nathan closed his eyes, surrendering to his partner’s touch. The mask was placed over his face, the edges sealing seamlessly against his skin. The beard pressed lightly against his jaw, the hair tickling his forehead.

He opened his eyes, looking into the mirror. A stranger stared back, strong and confident, yet somehow familiar. “It’s incredible,” he breathed, reaching up to touch the mask reverently.

His partner stood behind him, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “You’re perfect,” he corrected, his hands sliding around Nathan’s waist. “And we’re going to make the perfect escape.”

Nathan leaned back against his chest, feeling his partner’s heartbeat through the leather. “I can’t wait,” he murmured. “But… are you sure we can get out without being caught? The police are everywhere.”

His partner’s arms tightened around him, reassuring. “Don’t worry,” he said, pressing a kiss to Nathan’s neck. “I’ve been monitoring their activity all night. I know exactly where they are, and where they aren’t. We’ll take the back roads to the yacht. I’ve already got everything packed and ready to go.”

Nathan turned in his arms, searching his partner’s eyes. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

His partner smiled, cupping Nathan’s face gently. “Of course I have,” he said, his thumb brushing over Nathan’s bearded cheek. “We’re in this together, remember? Partners in crime, and in life.”

They stepped out into the night together. Walking side by side toward Gary’s bike, they were ready to leave their old life behind and embrace whatever the future held.

As the engine roared and they sped down the deserted streets, Nathan leaned back against his partner, the wind rushing through his hair, the thrill of freedom pulsing in his chest.

“Hold on tight,” he said with a grin. “Our new life starts now.”

--- ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ---

Sorry for the lack of updates! I’ll be posting more of my content soon. Let me know what kind of stuff you’d like to see next—I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Myster Roca | Instagram | Linktree

Writing male bodysuit stories and comics

[myster-roca]

Can you do more skin-suit comics or sequence’s?

Hello. I'd love to do more in the future but I'm currently busy with a lot of stuff.

[myster-roca]

Facade of Justice

The dim, flickering lights of the underground lair cast jagged shadows on the cold concrete walls. Valorion, hero of the Justice Force, hung suspended, his wrists bound by energy restraints that drained his strength.

His metallic spandex bodysuit, accented with gold and silver, clung tightly to his muscular form. A sleek cowl fully enveloped his scalp, leaving only his eyes, nose, and mouth exposed, while framing his chiseled jaw, adding to his air of intensity and mystery.

From the shadows, Darksteel emerged like a phantom, his dark coat sweeping behind him. As the ruthless leader of the notorious organization Midnight Shadow, his presence radiated danger. His movements were slow and deliberate, his sharp face framed by a high collar. Piercing green eyes glinted with quiet amusement as they lingered on Valorion's bound form

“You can’t win, Darksteel,” Valorion growled, his voice strained but steady. “Even if you kill me, another hero will rise.”

Darksteel’s cold smile faltered for an instant, and in a single swift motion, he drove his knee into Valorion’s groin. The impact sent a sharp, searing pain radiating through Valorion’s body, forcing a gasp from his lips as he doubled over, his bound wrists the only thing keeping him from collapsing. His body throbbed with the aftershock, vision blurring as he struggled to catch his breath.

Darksteel leaned in close, his voice low and venomous. “Kill you?” he whispered, almost playfully. “I don’t need to kill you to break you. By the time I’m done, you’ll beg to stay forgotten.”

He turned and walked away, the door sliding shut with a hiss. With a soft hiss, the door slid shut behind him, sealing Valorion alone in the crushing silence of the chamber.

Valorion clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus, to breathe. Yet that uneasy feeling remained—the nagging sensation that unseen eyes were still watching him.

Minutes stretched into an eternity, broken only by Valorion's ragged breathing. Suddenly, a muffled explosion shattered the quiet chamber. The wall crumbled inward, and through the smoke, a masked soldier in Midnight Shadow’s black uniform stepped in.

Valorion tensed, unsure if this was a new threat or another of Darksteel’s games.

The soldier strode purposefully toward a sleek panel embedded in the wall. His gloved hand hovered over a red glowing button, its metallic surface gleaming under the dim light.

“Trust me,” he muttered before slamming the button.

A sharp hiss filled the air as the energy restraints flickered and then disengaged with a burst of sparks.

Valorion staggered momentarily as his limbs were freed, the dull ache from prolonged captivity flooding back. Before he could steady himself, the soldier turned to him, his movements quick and deliberate.

“Come with me,” he urged, his voice low and distorted. “I’m getting you out.”

With no other choice, Valorion followed through the dark corridors. Faint alarms echoed as they reached the surface. They burst through the lair’s exit, only to find themselves at the edge of a steep cliff overlooking a fast-flowing river far below.

“We don’t have much time. We have to jump!” the soldier yelled, and before Valorion could react, they plunged into the icy torrent.

The current grabbed them instantly, pulling them downstream with violent force. Fighting the cold and the rushing water, they swam to the riverbank, emerging drenched and gasping for air. The soldier pointed to an old, abandoned warehouse in the distance, and without a word, they made their way toward it.

Inside the warehouse, the air was thick and damp. Water dripped from their soaked clothes, the cold clinging to their skin. “We need to get out of these clothes,” the soldier said, removing his mask to reveal his face.

He was young, in his early twenties, with intense brown eyes and a faint, troubled smile. His lean, athletic frame, broad shoulders, and narrow waist exuded strength. Wet hair clung to his forehead, giving him an air of both vulnerability and allure.

As he stripped away the remaining layers of his soaked uniform, his skin gleamed faintly in the dim light, revealing his body as the damp fabric pooled at his feet.

Valorion hesitated for a moment, then slowly pulled back his cowl mask, revealing his face. His bold features came into view: a sharp, chiseled jaw, a firm, resolute mouth, and tousled blonde hair that draped slightly over his forehead. His intense eyes, framed by thick brows, shone with an aura of concealed power.

As he peeled off the metallic spandex bodysuit, his physique emerged—broad shoulders, a powerful chest, and heavily defined muscles sculpted like stone. His thick cock, now freed from the tight confines of the bodysuit, hung between his strong thighs. The cold bit at his skin, but it was the soldier’s gaze that sent a deeper chill through him.

“What’s your name, boy?” Valorion asked, noticing the soldier’s lingering gaze.

“I’m... Ethan,” the soldier stammered, quickly looking away.

“Aren’t you one of Darksteel’s soldiers? Why did you help me escape?” Valorion pressed.

Ethan hesitated, then sat on a nearby crate. “I’ve watched you for a long time,” he confessed. “You inspired me, made me realize there’s more to life than following Darksteel’s orders.” His voice wavered. “I became a soldier for Midnight Shadow out of desperation. I had nothing. They promised me everything, but it was all a lie. Watching you fight gave me hope for change.”

Valorion’s expression softened. He placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, a rare warmth flickering in his eyes. “You’ve made the right choice, boy. But you’ll still have to face your past,” he said gently.

Ethan looked up, his eyes brimming with tears. “I know... I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice breaking.

Valorion pulled him into a tight embrace. “It’s okay. We’ll face it together,” he whispered.

Ethan buried his face in Valorion’s chest, their bodies pressing together, skin against skin. He hugged Valorion around the waist and rested his head against his abs. Valorion’s cock was half-hard, and it was now nestled against the top of the soldier’s head.

“Forgive me,” the soldier whispered. “Forgive me for everything.”

Valorion stroked the back of the soldier’s head, his fingers running through his wet hair. “There’s nothing to forgive, boy,” he said gently. “You’re changing. That’s all anyone can ask.”

The soldier sobbed against him for a few moments, then slowly he looked up. His eyes, bright and warm, shone up at Valorion, his face only inches from Valorion’s hard cock.

Valorion felt his heart beating hard. It had been a long time since he’d felt so close to someone. As a superhero, he had to maintain a certain image, and that meant it was difficult to let people get close.

He was always in control, always had to be.

But here and now, in this abandoned warehouse, with this young soldier’s eyes looking up at him, he felt that control slipping away. He felt his pulse hammering against the soldier’s hand, his cock throbbing against the soldier’s forehead.

Ethan reached up with his hand, and slowly, gently, cupped the side of Valorion’s face. His thumb traced Valorion’s cheekbone, and his fingers curved around the back of his neck.

“Thank you,” the soldier murmured. “Thank you.”

Without hesitation, Ethan tilted his head and pressed his lips to Valorion’s. Valorion froze for a moment, caught off guard. The moment hung between them, heavy and charged. The warmth of Ethan’s body, the steady thrum of his heartbeat, and the intensity in his gaze ignited something deep within Valorion. The resistance melted away, replaced by a rush of desire. Slowly, he surrendered, pressing his lips back against Ethan’s.

The kiss deepened, and the tension between them dissolved into something raw and urgent. Valorion closed his eyes as he felt the soldier’s cock, hot and hard against his own. A low moan escaped his lips, mingling with the fervor of their embrace.

Valorion ran his hands over the soldier’s body, feeling the lean muscle of his shoulders, the hard swell of his chest, the ridges of his stomach. He reached around and grabbed his ass, and gave it a squeeze.

Their cocks brushed against each other, and Valorion couldn’t stifle the groan that escaped his lips. The soldier echoed him, pressing his tongue more firmly into Valorion’s mouth.

The soldier sighed, pressing his body against Valorion. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he moaned.

As their hands explored each other’s bodies, a sudden wave of dizziness swept over Valorion. His vision blurred, and the strength he had regained began to fade.

He pulled back, resting a hand on Ethan’s chest, his eyes growing heavy. In moments, the hero collapsed gently onto the cold floor, falling into a deep, heavy slumber.

Ethan stood over Valorion’s unconscious body, his expression shifting. His lips curled into a cold smile as he gazed down at the fallen hero. “I told you before,” he whispered, his voice dripping with malice. “I don’t need to kill you to break you.”

His fingers moved to the back of his neck, searching for a hidden seam. With a firm pull, the seam gave way, and the false flesh began to peel back with a soft, wet sound.

Piece by piece, Ethan’s face loosened, slipping off like a second skin. Beneath it, sharp cheekbones and cold, angular features emerged—pale skin and green eyes gleaming with wicked amusement, framed by stark white hair. The face that now stared back wasn’t Ethan’s at all. It was Darksteel.

He continued the process, running his hands over his chest as Ethan’s toned physique began to sag and distort. His fingers traced the hidden seam at the back of his neck, slipping beneath the skin-tight suit with a precise, deliberate motion. With a firm pull, the suit loosened, the synthetic skin giving way as Ethan's athletic frame unraveled, revealing the far more imposing figure beneath.

With each pull, Darksteel’s true form emerged—his broader, muscular shoulders pushing through. His thick arms flexed as he freed them from Ethan’s false limbs, pulling each finger from the synthetic hands. The soft, squelching sound of the suit separating from his skin filled the room, heightening the unsettling atmosphere.

The skin, the muscles—everything that had made Ethan seemed to fold and fall away like a snake shedding its skin. Darksteel grunted as the tight material peeled off, the strange mix of squelching and tearing echoing through the warehouse.

Ethan’s build vanished, replaced by Darksteel’s sculpted physique. His broader shoulders and defined chest rippled with taut muscles, each honed by years of discipline. As the bodysuit slipped lower, Darksteel’s lean waist and carved abdomen came into view, a striking contrast to Ethan’s softer, less defined form.

The most delicate part remained—the groin. The tightness there had been a constant reminder of the suit’s control, and as he carefully slid it over his hips, Darksteel winced at the almost overwhelming relief. His skin, now exposed to the cool air, tingled with liberation.

With one last pull, he freed himself from the legs of the suit, feeling the tension fade as it pooled at his feet. His real skin glistened with sweat, faint impressions left from where the suit had gripped him tightly.

Darksteel breathed deeply, running a hand over his exposed chest, relishing the sensation of being in his own skin again. His muscles ached from the suit’s pressure, but a strange satisfaction remained, a reminder of the power and allure the suit had granted. He stretched, the stiffness fading from his limbs as he moved freely, unbound—like a predator finally released from its cage.

As he stared at Valorion’s unconscious body on the ground, Darksteel’s cock began to throb with excitement. His eyes roamed over the hero’s muscular form, tracing every curve. Clearly, the hero was still under the effects of the Kiss of Delusion.

The Kiss of Delusion was one of Darksteel’s special powers, causing his victim to become dizzy and unconscious. While under its effects, the victim’s dreams transformed into illusions imagined by Darksteel, allowing him to torture his opponents with their worst nightmares.

However, for Valorion, there was no need for such illusions. Darksteel had already implanted the perfect fantasy into his mind—one that would surely drive him mad once he awoke from his deep slumber.

Darksteel slid his hands down to Valorion’s ass and grabbed both cheeks, spreading them apart so he could see the hero’s tight asshole. His dick was now so hard it felt like it was going to explode at any minute.

He took a deep breath, savoring the moment, then plunges his cock into Valorion’s asshole in a single, fluid motion. With a swift spasm, he released his seed, letting it surge deep into the hero’s body. The essence, laced with his own cells, now flowed through Valorion’s insides, poised to begin its work. Now, all he had to do was wait.

Within minutes, a small lump began to form on the hero’s back. This was another of Darksteel’s abilities— the Flesh Husk Generation. By claiming his victims through intimate domination, Darksteel could cultivate a perfect replica skinsuit of their body, known as a Flesh Husk. This power allowed him to mimic not only their appearance but also their abilities when worn.

The transformation began with the Seed, a pulsing mass that grew and reshaped itself over several minutes. Once fully matured, the skin could be easily peeled from the victim’s body.

Darksteel gripped the warm, pliant flesh and, with a smooth tug, detached it. He marveled as the skin shifted, forming an exact copy of Valorion’s powerful body—from the broad torso to the muscular legs and arms, down to the smallest details of fingers and toes.

His fingers traced the flawless pecs, gliding over the hard contours of the sculpted abs, feeling the raw strength beneath the surface. A dark thrill surged through him, making him harder as he imagined what it would feel like to wear it—this hollow shell, waiting to be filled.

Slowly, he stepped into the suit, his legs sliding into the cool, flesh-like material. The suit clung tightly to his calves and thighs, making his body feel heavier, more defined. It wrapped around him like a second skin, reshaping him with an intoxicating intensity. As he pulled it over his waist, his legs bulged with muscle, his calves tightening, and his thighs swelling with power.

A gasp escaped his lips as the suit enveloped his torso. His once-lean chest swelled, pecs inflating into rock-hard slabs. His breath quickened as he stared at his new form—heavy pecs and ridged abs, as if carved from marble. The tightness around his torso was exhilarating, every inch of him reborn into something unstoppable.

The suit wrapped around his arms, thickening them into powerful limbs. Darksteel flexed, watching veins ripple beneath the synthetic skin. His fingers tingled, overwhelmed by the surge of strength. He clenched his fist, feeling untamed power coursing through him. Every movement felt deliberate, controlled—his body amplified, perfected beyond its limits.

As the suit closed around his core, the tightening at his groin made him catch his breath. His cock, nestled in the sheath, shifted from discomfort to a deep, sensual pressure. A groan escaped as he adjusted, feeling the sheath conform perfectly to his body. The suit gripped every part of him, shaping him into the powerful being.

Finally, he reached for the mask. The face had a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and shimmering blonde hair. Darksteel held it for a moment, then, with a deep breath, pressed the mask against his own face.

The adhesive activated instantly, molding his features into those of the towering blonde hero. He touched his cheek, feeling the hardness of the jawline, the rough stubble, and the cool synthetic skin as it seamlessly fused with his own.

Darksteel stood still for a moment, letting the full weight of his transformation sink in. His breath remained steady, but his pulse pounded beneath the thick slabs of his new chest. He raised a hand to his pecs, lingering over the firm, unyielding surface. Every inch of his torso was taut, solid—the suit enhancing his form to its absolute peak.

He turned his arm slightly, admiring the way the muscles shifted and stretched, as though they were alive, ready to crush or lift anything in his path. His legs felt heavier beneath him, solid pillars of muscle wrapped in the tight, flesh-like suit.

Darksteel’s gaze then shifted to Valorion’s iconic uniform, now dry, gleaming in the low light. The metallic spandex clung to every curve and ridge, practically begging to be worn. Darksteel’s pulse quickened as he reached for it, imagining how the fabric would embrace his body, completing his metamorphosis.

With steady hands, Darksteel lifted the spandex suit, feeling its weight shift, the material almost alive in his grip. His heart raced as the zipper slid open with a soft click, echoing in the still room. He took a deep breath, anticipation buzzing through him.

Slowly, he slid one leg into the suit. The fabric wrapped tightly around his thick calf, conforming to his powerful form. It stretched smoothly over his thigh, sending a jolt of excitement through him as it gripped his body like a second skin. Every movement heightened his awareness, the suit accentuating the solid muscle underneath.

He slipped his other leg into the suit, feeling the material mold to every contour of his legs. It seemed to know him, every ridge and curve fitting perfectly, leaving no space between him and the sensation of strength. The tightness was exhilarating—every step, every flex felt amplified by the form-fitting fabric.

As the suit slid over his hips, his breath hitched. It clung snugly to his groin, shaping him with precision, making him feel not just powerful, but in control—dominant. Adjusting himself slightly, the suit sealed him inside the illusion of a superhero’s body, and the thrill coursed through his veins.

He glanced down, watching the spandex stretch over his broad chest, highlighting the massive pecs that rose and fell with his rapid breathing. It hugged his torso with a snugness that made him feel invincible.

Darksteel’s hands trembled as he pulled the suit higher, over his shoulders, the fabric wrapping his arms like liquid metal. His fingers slipped into the sleeves, and the spandex tightened around his biceps. He flexed, watching his muscles bulge under the tight material, every motion enhancing the power that surged through him.

Darksteel adjusted the cowl over his face, sealing the heroic visage as his own. The transformation was complete. He looked down upon Valorion's still and sleeping form with a sinister smile.

"Sleep well, hero," he whispered with a cold, victorious grin. "In your dreams, you may still save the world, but in reality, it's my turn to reshape it."

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

The next day, Valorion stirred awake, his senses slowly coming to life. The soft beeping of nearby machines filled his ears, and his body felt weighed down, aching from an unknown ordeal. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing a sterile, white room. The smell of antiseptic and the bright lights above made everything feel strange, unfamiliar. He blinked, adjusting to the harsh brightness, realizing he wasn’t in the warehouse anymore.

His breath hitched as he moved, his body bound not by his suit but by a stiff hospital gown. “Where am I?” he thought. He shifted slightly, his hand brushing against the cold metal railing of the bed.

Beside him, Ethan sat quietly, his eyes fixed on Valorion.

“You’re awake,” Ethan said softly, his voice calm. The young soldier was wearing a hospital gown too.

Valorion’s mind felt foggy, his memories jumbled. He glanced around at the machines, the sterile environment. A hospital? His heart quickened. “How did we get back?” he asked, his voice rough, cracking from disuse. “Back to the city?”

Ethan smiled faintly, but there was something guarded in his expression. “We were helped by some kind people,” he replied, his words vague. “They found us and brought us here. You’ve been unconscious for hours.”

Valorion frowned, his mind racing to remember. Flashes of their escape mixed with something more—something intimate. But his thoughts were fragmented, the details slipping away like sand between his fingers. He couldn’t tell if what he remembered was real or a fevered dream.

Before he could question Ethan further, the young soldier stood abruptly, his movements sharp. “You should rest more, Valorion. We can talk later,” Ethan said before swiftly exiting the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Valorion frowned, trying to recall what had happened. Flashes of their escape blurred with memories of something more intimate, something he wasn’t sure was real or imagined. His mind raced back to the moments before he blacked out—the feeling of Ethan’s body against his. Was it just a dream? He couldn’t tell.

Valorion lay still, his thoughts circled back to the blurry memories. Had they really shared those moments together? He let out a deep breath, closing his eyes, trying to recall the missing pieces. He wasn’t sure what was real anymore.

Suddenly, the door burst open again—this time with a chaotic surge of people. Reporters, armed with cameras and microphones, flooded into the room, bombarding him with questions.

“Valorion! Can you explain the viral video?” one reporter demanded, shoving a microphone toward him.

“Viral video?” Valorion repeated, a wave of unease washing over him.

“Yes! The footage of you and this guy named Ethan!” another reporter chimed in, holding up a phone that displayed a still image—an image of him and Ethan together in an unmistakably intimate moment.

The hero’s chest tightened as panic set in. A video of him with Ethan? He scanned the room in panic, searching for Ethan, but the soldier was gone. His pulse raced as the realization hit him like a punch to the gut. There’s a video of us? His hands gripped the bedsheets, his knuckles turning white. How could this be happening? How could anyone have recorded them?

Meanwhile, down the hospital’s quiet back corridors, Ethan moved calmly, his footsteps echoing softly in the otherwise empty hallway. He slipped into an unoccupied utility room, locking the door behind him. The dim light flickered overhead as he walked toward a small mirror on the wall.

His lips curled into a malicious grin as the memories of the warehouse flooded back:

After Valorion fell into a deep slumber, Darksteel called the real Ethan to come to the warehouse. Once there, Ethan was stripped of his uniform and had struggled against his captor. However, Darksteel, wearing Valorion’s muscular form, was far too strong. Ethan’s voice had cracked as he begged for mercy, but Darksteel silenced him, using the hero’s body to dominate him completely. Every moment was recorded as Darksteel, in Valorion’s skin, had taken his time fucking the young soldier. The sounds of Ethan’s desperation echoed in Darksteel’s mind even now, as he remembered how easily he had broken the man. After that event, he had the real Ethan confined in another secret lair with a reminder of who was truly in control.

With a cruel grin, Ethan—no, Darksteel—reached up and tugged at the tip of his nose. The synthetic skin loosened, and he carefully peeled it back, revealing his true face underneath. His sharp, angular features came into view, and his cold, green eyes gleamed with satisfaction as the mask of Ethan dangled from his hand.

He reached into a nearby bag and pulled out a full mask of a bearded man, rough around the edges. With practiced hands, he slipped the mask over his face, transforming into yet another persona. He checked his reflection, ensuring every detail was perfect.

Next, he pulled out an unremarkable outfit designed to help him blend into the crowd. He donned a plain gray hoodie, faded jeans, and worn sneakers. A baseball cap, pulled low over his eyes, completed the look. The beard, the weathered face, and the casual outfit—this disguise would let him disappear into the crowd, unnoticed.

Satisfied, he slipped the Ethan mask back into the bag and unlocked the door, stepping out into the hospital hallway. Nurses and staff passed him by without a second glance as he walked through the corridors, heading for the exit.

Outside, Darksteel blended effortlessly into the bustling city streets. He paused for a moment, looking up at Valorion’s hospital window from a distance. Through the glass, he could see the chaos inside—the flashing cameras, the reporters bombarding the hero with questions. A cold smirk played on his lips as he watched Valorion’s world unravel.

With everything going as planned, Darksteel's smile widened. He turned and walked away, vanishing into the crowd like a shadow.

But the game wasn’t over.

It had only just begun.

-- ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ---

Commissioned by: 9momored

"Thanks for reading! Feel free to DM me with suggestions or commission requests. Don’t forget to follow me on my other platforms for more updates and content!"

Myster Roca | Instagram | Linktree

Writing male bodysuit stories and comics

[myster-roca]

La Pelle del Diavolo: A Halloween Special

The night air in the hills of Tuscany was thick with the scent of earth and wild herbs, but a chill crept through the wind, slipping from the shadows cast by ancient oaks around the estate. Marco Romano, a seasoned thief, felt the familiar prickle of excitement as he approached the villa.

Dark whispers and superstitions tugged at the edges of his thoughts, but he pushed them aside. Danger was an old friend, and tonight, it had led him to the mysterious Villa Tenebra.

The locals had spoken of the villa’s hidden treasure in hushed tones over dark wine, only daring to mention it in shadowed corners of Florence’s oldest bars. It was a relic of myth, known as the Corpus Noctem, the key to immortal life. Marco had dismissed it as folklore at first, but the lure of such power was impossible to resist.

He had slipped into Villa Tenebra with the help of a map from a cryptic dealer in Florence—a strange man eager to be rid of it. The map was faded and worn, but it revealed something extraordinary: an old smugglers’ passage hidden in the villa’s foundations, built centuries ago to let noblemen move treasures in and out undetected.

The entrance to the passage lay hidden behind a statue in the villa’s overgrown gardens, its base concealing a narrow stone door. With a grunt, Marco pushed it open, revealing a winding staircase descending into the earth. The air was cool and damp, and each step echoed, punctuating the silence with a heavy, ominous beat.

At the bottom, the passage twisted into a dimly lit stone hallway. Shadows flickered on the walls, worn smooth by years of forgotten footsteps. Marco moved forward, his senses sharp, adrenaline building. The air was thick, carrying an old, metallic scent, as though it held memories of things long past.

A few meters down, he found himself in a corridor and saw something he had never encountered—a perfectly sculpted muscle suit that looked like leather, coated in wax, and painted red. The closer he got, the more he felt an odd pull, a magnetic force that made his skin tingle and his pulse intensify.

The suit looked like leather but felt too smooth, too alive. It beckoned to him.

“This is it. The Corpus Noctem. The Flesh of the Night,” he whispered, his voice thick with greed. “The key to youth and eternal life.”

His fingers hovered over the material, and as soon as he touched it, a rush of heat surged through him, like electricity flooding his veins. His fingertips tingled as he traced its sculpted lines. The sensation was intoxicating, almost erotic. His breath quickened, and an unfamiliar hunger stirred deep within him.

With the suit clutched in his arms, he moved quickly down the hall, rounding a corner, his breathing quickening as he felt its warmth intensify. The heat from the suit seemed to throb, mirroring his own pulse, sending waves of anticipation rippling through him.

He knew he couldn’t wait any longer—he needed it on his body, needed to feel it enveloping him.

Setting the suit down, he hurriedly removed his clothes, pulling off his sleek, dark outfit and kicking off his boots. His legs trembled as he reached for the red muscle suit once more, pressing himself against it and feeling heat spread through his body.

He removed his pants, standing completely naked before the suit, savoring the rich red sheen of the leather.

Without hesitation, he began to put it on. The moment it touched his skin, a wave of pleasure and power flooded his senses.

As he slid the suit further up his leg, he felt an incredible tightness around his calf, a strange, thrilling tension as though the suit were pulling at his muscles. And then, to his astonishment, he felt his calf muscle expand, swelling against the material as though infused with newfound strength.

He continued, slipping his other leg in, feeling the suit tighten around his thighs. The same sensation of growth surged through him, his quads and hamstrings expanding, hardening, becoming thicker, stronger.

Marco’s hands trembled as he pulled the suit up over his hips, feeling the snug embrace of the material. He slipped his arms into the sleeves, and as the suit enveloped his torso, a wave of heat exploded through his chest and back.

He watched in awe as his pecs rose, filling out, becoming solid and powerful, each muscle now perfectly defined. His shoulders broadened, the suit tightening around them, forcing them to grow, to harden, until they were as strong as stone.

His arousal surged as he ran his hands down to the calves and then up to the chest, pressing his palm against the sculpted abdomen. It felt perfect—hard, tight, like a muscular man was inside.

Eyes closed, he traced his hands over the biceps and around to the triceps, savoring every sensation.

“You shouldn’t have touched that.”

The thief spun around. An old man stood in the hallway, his silver hair gleaming in the dim light. On his right hand, a tarnished silver ring caught the faint glow, intricate symbols etched into its surface.

His eyes, sharp and full of something the thief couldn’t quite place, bore into him. The air between them crackled with tension.

“This is your treasure, old man?” the thief sneered, masking the tremor in his voice.

The old man stepped forward, his lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Treasure? No… it’s a curse. You should strip it off and leave while you still can. That suit… The Corpus Noctem… was never meant to be worn by anyone who values their soul.”

The thief chuckled darkly, reveling in the waves of pleasure and power coursing through him as the suit clung tighter, molding to his body like a second skin. “You’re just trying to scare me. It’s mine now.”

But then, something shifted. The warmth he’d felt before began to change, becoming suffocating, as though the suit itself was tightening around him, digging deeper into his flesh.

The initial rush of pleasure twisted into something unbearable, a heat that clawed at him from within.

His chest heaved as panic seized him. “What… what is happening?”

The old man’s gaze was steely, his voice soft yet filled with grim satisfaction. “You wanted to own the suit, to wield its power. But now, it owns you.”

The thief’s hands flew to the suit, trying to rip it off, but the material wouldn’t budge. Panic clawed at him as he realized the truth—this wasn’t just a myth or legend. This was real, and he had fallen for its trap.

“The suit was crafted centuries ago,” the old man continued, his voice soft yet laden with dark knowledge. “A coven of sorcerers, desperate for immortality, summoned an ancient demon—the Harrower of Flesh—who bound its essence into the hollow skin of a man, creating the Corpus Noctem. Whoever wore it would gain eternal youth and beauty, but at a cost: for each year they lived, they’d need to drain another’s essence, leaving behind a lifeless skinsuit. To bypass this, the wearer must cloak themselves in the flesh of another soul—only by donning this skin over the Corpus Noctem can one remain whole.”

The thief’s vision blurred as the suit constricted around him, merging deeper into his skin. His body tingled with a sensation that was equal parts pleasure and terror. It felt as if the suit were feeding on him, consuming his very essence.

The old man’s frail form shifted, and with deliberate slowness, he raised his hands to his face. He pulled it off, revealing a lifelike mask, and beneath it, a strikingly youthful, handsome face emerged—features sharp, jawline strong, eyes dark and piercing. Smirking, he removed his clothes piece by piece, casting off the disguise of age.

As the last layer fell, the old, fragile illusion was gone, replaced by a chiseled, muscular figure that looked as if it had been carved from marble. His back straightened, shoulders broad, and every inch of him radiated a powerful, youthful energy.

“You see, I was once like you,” the man said, his voice now rich and powerful. “I, too, was lured by the suit’s promises. But unlike you, I learned its secrets and made it my own. I’ve lived for centuries, wearing this skin, draining life from those foolish enough to fall into its grasp.”

The thief stumbled back, his body no longer his own. The suit tightened again, and he felt his skin loosen, as if separating from his bones, becoming pliable and empty. He was now little more than an outer shell waiting to be filled.

“You’ll be perfect,” the man murmured with a predatory smile. “I’ve been needing a new face. And your body… it will serve me well.”

The man reached down, his fingers trailing over the thief’s hollowed form, savoring the warmth and fresh pliability. He lifted the emptied skin carefully, feeling its readiness to be inhabited. Pausing, he slid a tarnished silver ring from his finger and set it gently on the floor beside him, a faint smile crossing his lips, as if the gesture held private, ritualistic meaning.

With a sigh of satisfaction, he began donning the suit, the thief’s former identity slipping over him like a glove. The skin conformed to him, tightening and sealing with a sensation that sent shivers through him—a seductive merging of flesh and power.

He ran his hands over his new form, relishing the strength beneath his fingers. This body was everything he’d hoped for—youthful, strong, and ready to endure another century. He reached down, rubbing his hands over Marco's abs, feeling the muscles tense beneath his touch. His hands drifted lower, gripping Marco's cock, heat radiating from it. Wrapping his hand around the shaft, he began to stroke.

“Do you like it?” he asked himself with a smile.

He began to laugh as he continued stroking, feeling Marco grow harder. On the verge of climax, he still sensed remnants of Marco's essence, and his smile grew even wider. Reaching up, he massaged his new face.

But he wasn’t done. He turned to the Corpus Noctem, lying on the floor like a crimson shadow. With practiced ease, he slipped it on, layer by layer, feeling it fuse with his stolen body, amplifying his strength, fortifying every fiber. The suit melded seamlessly, completing his transformation.

Reaching down, he retrieved the silver ring from the floor and slid it back onto his finger, a final touch that signified the bond. He looked into the grand mirror, admiring the flawless reflection. Turning sharply, he traced a hand along his new jawline, savoring the unfamiliar yet perfectly familiar contours. The face of a man he had consumed, a youth he had stolen, now belonged to him entirely.

With a slow exhale, he ran his hands over his abs, savoring each hard, sculpted ridge beneath his fingertips. The suit hugged every contour perfectly, every muscle honed, every line exact.

“Magnificent,” he whispered, his voice low with satisfaction, echoing through the empty hall like a dark promise. Only his faint laughter remained, drifting through Villa Tenebra’s silent halls, waiting for the next soul to fall prey to the Corpus Noctem.

--- ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ---

Would you like to expand this dark universe? Follow me to explore more content and updates: https://linktr.ee/mysteroca

[myster-roca]

Through Another's Eyes

The neon sign flickered in the distance, casting an eerie red glow that danced off the cracked asphalt of the motel’s desolate parking lot. The word "Vacancy" blinked in and out, barely clinging to life, much like the dilapidated building it was attached to. The wind carried the faint scent of dust and decay, whispering through the night, as if the very air was haunted.

Tim squinted through his cracked windshield, pulling his car into the far corner of the lot, enveloped in shadows. He sat there, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel, the ticking of the cooling engine echoing like a countdown.

His plan was simple: sneak in, steal anything worth a dime—cash, electronics, jewelry—and disappear before anyone noticed. It was the same routine he’d pulled dozens of times, but tonight, something felt different—off in a way he couldn't quite shake.

Still, he pushed the thought aside. He was dead broke, but that wasn’t anything new. He was used to surviving on scraps, drifting from town to town, picking pockets and breaking into places like this to scrape by. And now, he found himself here, in front of this run-down motel, a last-ditch effort to score enough cash to get him to the next nowhere town.

He wasn’t going through the front door. That was a rookie mistake. Tim needed to be smarter, stealthier.

He circled to the back of the building, crouching low as he spotted an old metal hatch. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in years, maybe an old laundry chute or some kind of service entrance, long forgotten.

The bolts were rusted, the metal cracked—an afterthought in this crumbling relic. Tim pulled a utility knife from his jacket, a tool that had gotten him out of many tight spots. He wedged it between the hatch and the wall, gritting his teeth as he applied steady pressure. One hinge snapped, then the other, until the hatch swung open just enough for him to slip through.

The space beyond was tight, suffocating, like the walls were closing in. Tim’s pulse hammered in his ears as he crawled through the hatch, the cold metal scraping his skin.

Every movement felt deliberate, the darkness pressing against him, thick and oppressive. His breath caught, the damp, stale air seeping into his lungs, choking him for a brief moment before he forced it down. This was it—just another job. Nothing he hadn’t handled before.

But something about this felt different.

Pushing deeper into the narrow passage, his fingers grazed the cold, grimy walls, his mind racing. Then he noticed them—small, foggy windows lining the walls, barely catching the faintest glints of light.

At first, they seemed like nothing, but as Tim’s eyes adjusted, a cold realization gripped him. One-way mirrors. They weren’t just glass—they were portals, hidden views into the motel rooms beyond.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. Each mirror offered a voyeuristic glimpse into the lives of the unsuspecting guests on the other side.

Tim paused at one of the windows, his breath stilling in his chest as he leaned closer, peering through the foggy glass. The room beyond looked unremarkable at first—a bed, a couple of chairs, an unused TV in the corner. But it wasn’t the room that caught his attention.

It was the two naked men inside.

They sat across from each other, a heavy silence hanging between them. The younger man, his sharp features framed by a dark undercut, exuded a kind of elegance that only comes with age and experience.

The other, a bit older, with lines etched into his weathered face, radiated a quiet, unshakable confidence. But beneath the calm exterior, Tim could sense it—something dark and unsettled lurking just beneath the surface.

Tim watched them intently, feeling a strange sensation stirring within him. There was something intimate about this, more than just a conversation between two men. He pressed closer to the glass, his pulse quickening as he eavesdropped on their words.

The older man broke the silence first, his voice quiet but laced with regret. “I’ve been thinking… about everything. All the years, all the things I didn’t do. The things I wanted to do but never did. And now… now it feels like it’s too late.”

The younger man listened, his expression softening as the older one continued.

“I spent my life chasing what was expected of me. The job, the family, the routine… but what I wanted, deep down, I kept pushing aside. I always told myself I’d get to it eventually. But time… it slips away. And now, here I am, wondering why I didn’t act sooner.”

Tim felt a tug in his chest as he listened, the rawness of the man’s words striking something deep inside him. Regret. The bitter weight of not following one’s true desires. He had felt that before, hadn’t he? The tension of living a life that didn’t quite match what he wanted. As he stood there, hidden behind the walls, something stirred—something dark and sensual, an unspoken yearning he’d kept buried.

The younger man leaned forward, his tone gentle. “It’s not too late, Dan,” he said softly. “We’re here now. And we can still do what we’ve always wanted. We can still be who we want to be.”

Dan’s eyes met Ron’s, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them. “I’ve wasted so much time, Ron,” he said, his voice low, almost pained. “But now, here with you, I feel like I can finally be who I am. No more pretending.”

Tim felt his breath catch as the atmosphere shifted, the air heavy with something unspoken yet undeniable. The words exchanged between the two men weren’t just about regret anymore; they carried a charge, a raw sensuality that made Tim’s skin prickle. He knew he shouldn’t be watching, but he couldn’t look away. The intimacy in their conversation, the quiet longing in their voices, stirred something primal in him.

The younger man, Ron, stood and walked toward a black duffel bag on the floor. He unzipped it with practiced ease, pulling out two folded skinsuits.

Tim’s eyes widened. These weren’t costumes—they were realistic, eerily lifelike male body skinsuits. Each was crafted to mimic a sculpted male form, from the rich ebony tone of one to the leaner, more defined build of the other. The craftsmanship was impeccable, every muscle and contour disturbingly real.

“You really brought them,” the older man, Dan, said, his voice filled with awe.

Ron nodded. “We both want this. You deserve to feel it—to be who you’ve always imagined.”

Tim’s eyes locked onto the older man, whose trembling fingers skimmed over the muscular form of the suit. He traced the lines of biceps and abs that didn’t belong to him, his breath quickening as his touch grew bolder. Anticipation flickered in his eyes. "It… it feels real," he whispered, almost in disbelief.

"Of course it does," the younger man said, already preparing to step into his suit. "This isn't just about pretending; it's about becoming someone else entirely.

Tim's mouth felt dry as he watched the transformation unfold. Dan slipped into his suit, his expression a mix of fascination and excitement. With a deliberate step, he slid one leg inside, the material clinging to him as if alive.

As the synthetic suit stretched over his body, muscles rippled beneath, his frame thickening. His chest broadened, pecs standing proud, and abs carved into firm ridges. His arms swelled, veins pulsing, while his waist tapered.

His legs thickened with powerful thighs, and his calves bulged as they flexed. His face shifted, seamlessly molding into a square-jawed, rugged mask framed by a dense, dark beard. The older man had become a handsome hunk, exuding raw, masculine strength.

Ron followed, his lean physique transforming into a hulking form. His hair vanished beneath the suit, leaving him bald except for the dark beard framing his square jawline. His frame seemed to melt into the suit, which stretched and reshaped him completely. His chest broadened, and as the suit closed over his shoulders, his lean muscles swelled into a statuesque form.

His skin darkened to a smooth, flawless, rich tone. His once-slender arms were now sculpted with taut muscles, his legs strong and perfectly proportioned, a vision of masculine beauty. His hands touched his face, feeling his features change.

His jawline sharpened into chiseled perfection, framed by a neatly trimmed beard. His lips curved into a confident smirk, and his eyes gleamed with new confidence. The false black guy stared at his reflection, seeing a handsome, muscular model looking back.

The transformation was breathtaking. Both men stood chiseled, their bodies sculpted into ideal forms of masculinity.

They stood there for a moment, letting their new forms settle over them. The air was charged with something else now—desire, lust, an unspoken need. Ron's muscular figure reached out, fingertips tracing Dan's new broad chest, exploring the unfamiliar landscape.

"I’ve always wanted this," the new handsome hunk admitted, his eyes locked on the new black man as his hand drifted lower. "To feel like this. To be like this."

The black guy’s face softened as he cupped Dan's new crotch. "I know. And I want it, too."

Dan groaned as Ron squeezed him through the skin, the material clinging so tightly it left no mystery to the shape beneath. Tim felt himself stirring at the sight, his own arousal building in tandem with what was happening in front of him. He reached into his pants, fingers wrapping around his cock as he stroked himself. This was wrong—so wrong—but he couldn’t help it. The raw need that permeated the room, the forbidden nature of their attraction, the primal sense of watching something he shouldn’t—it was all too much.

Dan stepped forward, hands trailing down the black guy's arms, his fingers skimming the muscles bulging beneath the skin. Their lips met, a soft, hungry kiss that deepened as they wrapped their bodies around each other. They moved onto the bed, their hands exploring each other’s new forms, the friction of skin on skin sending a thrill through Tim’s own flesh.

“You feel so good, Ron.” Dan groaned into the other guy’s mouth as their hands continued to explore. “Everything about you…”

Ron pulled back, his beard scratching Dan’s chin. “You’re amazing too. I don’t know how much more of this foreplay I can take.”

Dan chuckled as he flipped Ron onto his back. The black muscled figure moaned as Dan’s hand gripped his dick, stroking him through the suit. He reached down, sliding a finger beneath the material to tease the tip of Ron’s dick. They kissed again, their bodies rolling on the bed as they rubbed against each other.

“I want to feel you inside me.” Ron gasped as Dan squeezed him harder. “Fuck me in this new body of mine.”

Dan grinned as he fumbled for something in the duffel bag. He returned with a bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount between his fingers. Ron hissed as Dan worked his hole, his skin tightening as he stretched him open.

When he felt ready, Ron rolled onto his stomach, looking back over his shoulder as he spread his legs. “I want you to take me, Dan,” he begged, his voice hoarse with need. “Show me what you’re working with.”

Dan slicked his cock and positioned himself behind Ron. He held the black muscled figure's hips, looking down at the inviting ass waiting for him. Tim’s fist tightened around his own dick as he watched, his breath hitching as Dan started to push inside. The false handsome hunk groaned as Ron took him in, his cock disappearing into that perfect ass, his balls slapping against Ron’s skin.

“Fuck, Dan. You feel so big.” Ron writhed beneath him, his body trembling. “Give it to me. Show me who I am.”

Dan began to thrust, his powerful hips driving into Ron’s ass. The younger man arched his back, crying out as Dan slammed into him, the skin of his suit tight and taut against the force of Dan’s cock.

“More,” Ron demanded, his hands clutching at the bedcovers. “Harder.”

Dan gave him more, his hips moving back-and-forth as he fucked the synthetic black man. Ron whimpered, his backside clenching around Dan’s cock with each thrust. Their skin slapped together, echoing through the room as they took each other hard and rough. Tim could feel himself building toward something, his cock aching as he watched their bodies strain together.

Ron pushed back into each thrust, meeting Dan stroke for stroke. Their grunts mingled in the air, thick with need and lust. It was like nothing Tim had ever seen before—two men lost in each other, completely consumed by desire. He’d always known he wanted things he shouldn’t, but this was something different. There was a primal sense of power in watching their bodies writhe together, their suits mimicking something real but not quite human. Something darker, wilder.

The air in the room seemed to grow hotter as their tempo quickened. Dan was close, his thrusts becoming rougher as he chased his orgasm. Ron moaned, his hand reaching down to jerk himself as Dan’s cock hit his prostate.

“Oh, fuck,” Dan growled through gritted teeth. “I’m going to come.”

“Do it,” Ron gasped, his fist moving faster. “Fill me up with your cum.”

Tim’s fingers tightened around his cock as Dan slammed into Ron, his body shuddering as he came deep inside the synthetic man’s ass. Ron cried out, feeling Dan’s cum flood him, his own cock shooting ropes of cum across the bed. Their bodies trembled together as they rode out the intensity of their orgasms, their cries filling the room, lost in the heat of the moment.

When they were spent, Dan pulled out of Ron’s ass and gently turned him onto his back. He leaned down, kissing the false black man passionately, their lips lingering as they savored the afterglow.

“You feel so good,” Dan moaned into the kiss. “So hot and tight. I can’t get enough.” His hand slid down to grip Ron’s cock, stroking him while their lips remained locked.

Ron moaned, arching into the touch. “I love feeling your cum inside me. It’s so hot.” His hands trailed up Dan’s back, tracing the muscles rippling beneath his skin. “Fuck, you feel amazing in this skin. All that muscle on you is incredible. I’ve always loved a big man.”

Dan laughed softly against his lips. “You’re not so bad yourself. I like this bald look on you.”

Ron groaned, rubbing his cock against the older man's muscular form. “I could do this all night, but we need to get ready for the club. It starts in thirty minutes.” He pulled back, his eyes gleaming as he looked at Dan. “And we’ll need to use new skinsuits.”

He reached for another duffel bag, unzipping it to reveal two new sets of skinsuits. Tim squinted at them, taking in every detail—the muscle definition, the skin tone, even the patterns of hair. These suits were just as realistic as the last ones, and he couldn’t wait to see how they would look on.

“Only these identities are allowed in the club. We have to wear them if we’re going to get in,” the young man in the black man's skin explained.

Dan hesitated, his hands running down his chest. “I don’t want to take this off,” he admitted. “I… like this one. I like who I am.”

Ron chuckled. “And you can still be him after tonight. But for now…” He pulled out the new suits, shaking them until they unfolded into life-sized replicas of human bodies. “Trust me, Dan, you’re gonna love it.”

“You always know how to convince me,” Dan said, taking one of the suits from Ron. “These will be fun,” he added, running his hands over the synthetic flesh.

The two men began to peel off their suits, tossing them aside like discarded skins, shedding the skins until they stood naked once more. Their real bodies were now exposed—nothing like the godlike figures they had transformed into earlier. With practiced ease, they slipped into the new suits, their faces lighting up as their new forms settled into place.

The older man’s new skin was smooth, hairless from the neck down, with muscles defined but not overly bulky. His cock was long and thick, his balls hanging heavy between his thighs. The younger man became a hulk, his frame broad and powerful, muscles sculpted to perfection. His cock was thicker this time, with his balls a heavy weight between his thighs.

They dressed quickly, pulling on leather pants and jackets, the fabric stretching tight over their new muscles. Dan flexed to test the fit, admiring his reflection, his eyes bright, lips curling into a smile.

“You ready?” Ron asked.

Dan nodded, adjusting his jacket. “Fuck yeah. Let’s do this.”

They kissed one last time before leaving the room, shutting the door behind them. Tim remained hidden,his heart pounding, adrenaline surging from what he had just witnessed. The idea of transformation, of becoming someone new, was intoxicating. It gnawed at him, primal and irresistible.

He waited, listening until their footsteps faded. Then, as he shifted, his foot knocked against the wall. He froze. The soft impact caused a tremor, and he noticed something—a brick in the wall wobbled slightly, as if it had come loose.

Curiosity overruled caution. Tim nudged the brick, and to his shock, the wall slid open, revealing a passage leading directly to the room he had just been watching.

It felt surreal, like a dream. But it was real. Without hesitation, he crawled through the gap, his heart racing as he emerged on the other side. The room was dim, the air heavy with an electric tension. His eyes were drawn immediately to the skinsuits lying discarded on the floor.

He stared down at them, a chill running through his body as he picked one up off the floor. As he brought it closer, his breath hitched at the uncanny sensation of touching something so real, yet so fake.

The texture was disturbingly lifelike, so much so that he could have sworn it was real flesh beneath his fingers. It felt almost criminal to hold it. He cradled the skinsuit in his arms, and the realization hit him like a wave. He could take one of these suits, wear it, and become someone else. A new face, a new identity—a new life.

He shoved the skinsuits into the duffel bag and slipped back into the hidden corridor, carefully closing the secret opening behind him, sealing the passage from view once again. He sprinted down the narrow hallway, not stopping until he reached his car and sped off into the darkness.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw the neon lights of the motel flicker out of sight, leaving him with the same thought as the two men earlier:

“We can still do what we’ve always wanted. We can still be who we want to be."

--- ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ---

"Thanks for reading! Your support means the world. Follow me to explore more content and updates:

https://linktr.ee/mysteroca

[myster-roca]

CityScapes: Residential Figure

Do you like this webcomics form of content and would you like to continue with this series?

Yes, continue the story where it left off on the same format

Yes, continue but I want standalone webcomic stories from others around the city

No, I dont want it to be a webcomics

No, I want to suggest something else

Voting ended onOct 10, 2024

[myster-roca]

Trying to experiment a way to publish some bodysuit comics in the tumblr platform and it has been challenging 🤣. Hopefully I can post it soon. For the meantime, you can check me out on other platforms.

Myster Roca | Linktree

Writing male bodysuit stories and comics

[myster-roca]

The Catfish Incident

"Thanks for the energy drink, man," Jake said, cracking open his can of blue energy soda as we ambled down the dimly lit hallway back to our apartments. The gym members' party had left us both hot and sweaty, and I thought a refreshing drink would be the perfect cap to our evening.

"Yeah, no problem, bro. You owe me one next time!" I replied, although I was thinking something else entirely as I watched him guzzle his beverage.

He was tall, about six feet three inches, with a toned physique that would make anyone envious. His hair, the color of wheat, was slicked back with some kind of product, and he wore a tank top that hugged his chest tightly, emphasizing his broad shoulders and thick arms. His shorts were tight enough to show off his wide hips and well-defined ass.

Standing beside him, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of insecurity. While I was reasonably fit and steadily working towards what I hoped would be my ideal body, Jake's presence ignited a deeper yearning within me. It wasn’t just about having muscular broad shoulders and a confident stride—it was about embodying that effortless aura of masculinity, the kind of identity that defines an alpha male.

"Oh yeah, almost forgot—I need to head back to my apartment now," Jake said abruptly. "I have a little rendezvous tonight," he added, flashing a smile.

"Sounds like a plan. What time is your date?" I asked casually, pausing beside him.

“About an hour from now, so I should probably hit the showers first. Gotta freshen up and work out these guns again,” he laughed. Then, without warning, he raised his left arm above his head and flexed his bicep, staring intently into my eyes. “It’s been too long since they’ve seen any action.”

I felt myself blush uncontrollably at his words, but luckily Jake didn't see it, and he continued heading down the hallway.

"See you tomorrow, Dave!" he called out over his shoulder before disappearing through his apartment door.

Little did he know, I was well aware of who he was meeting tonight.

As I stepped into my apartment, the familiar walls and furnishings offered no comfort to the restless longing stirring within me.

Each well-placed book and neatly aligned chair seemed to echo the structured, unyielding life I had sculpted for myself—a life of discipline as a respected professor, always mindful of reputation and societal expectations.

With a sigh, I removed my glasses and set them aside on the table. The lenses caught the fading light of the day, scattering beams that danced across the blandness of my living space, teasing me with glimpses of brightness in my otherwise predictable world.

This simple act felt like peeling away the layers of a persona crafted over years.

It felt symbolic, like I was discarding a part of myself that was too familiar, too constricted by old fears and inhibitions. Tonight was not a night for the timid David hidden behind those lenses; it was a night for someone entirely new.

I pulled off my tank top, feeling the cool air hit my bare skin, followed by the soft cotton of my white gym shorts. Finally, I slid down my underwear and tossed them aside. I felt incredibly vulnerable, standing there nude with no one else around.

Across the room, my gaze then shifted to the bed, where the realistic bodysuit of a Latino model lay outstretched. The room lighting cast a bright hue over its meticulously detailed surface, accentuating each muscular contour and shadow, making it look almost alive. It wasn’t just a garment; it was a gateway to another existence.

As soon as I saw it, I couldn’t resist touching its smooth skin. I ran my fingers over its chest and arms, feeling the softness of its skin. Then I slid my hands down to its waist and squeezed its firm butt cheeks. It even had a built-in penis that was larger than my own, which gave me a sense of excitement.

"Alright," I muttered under my breath, "let’s get started."

I could feel my dick twitch as I reached down and grabbed hold of the slit at the back of the bodysuit. The suit itself was made of a special material that allowed for easy movement and flexibility. Slowly, I began pulling the two sides apart so that there would be enough room for me to get inside.

As I sat down in the chair, I began sliding my right leg into one of the muscular legs. They were tight but not uncomfortable. As I pulled them up over my thigh, I could feel the skin stretching slightly as it moved up my leg. This was going to be so fucking hot!

I continued moving my left leg into the second leg until both feet were on the ground. Next, I positioned my shaft to the built-in dick and slid my arms into the sleeves. My biceps bulged with each movement.

Standing up, I took a few steps forward, feeling the incredible strength of my legs against my skin. I flexed my arm, watching the veins pulsate under the surface. I couldn’t help but smile at my new, sexy body.

Finally, I put on the built-in mask that resembled the handsome face of a Latino model.

As I slid it over my head, I felt the soft material conform to the contours of my face.

Once the mask was fully secured, the ’Heddon’ app on my phone opened up.

In order for the bodysuit to work properly, it needed to be activated. I selected “Start Sealing” and watched as the screen filled with images of the process.

Suddenly, there was a click, and the suit began to seal shut around me. I felt the muscles of my legs begin to tingle as they fused with the suit.

My thighs and calves became more defined as the skin tightened around them. The same sensation spread across my chest and shoulders, making them bulge outward. My arms seemed to grow larger as the suit conformed to my muscles.

Within seconds, the transformation was complete, and the suit fully integrated with my body, leaving no trace of its presence. It was as if I had become one with this sexy, lifelike skin.

With a grin, I stepped towards the mirror, admiring my reflection. The face staring back at me was that of a young, fit Hispanic man with broad shoulders and narrow hips.

“Welcome back,” I whispered to myself as I looked in the mirror at my new reflection. “Diego.”

My jawline was strong and defined, giving me a masculine appearance. I flexed my biceps, showing off the definition in my arms.

I ran my hands over my hard chest, feeling the firmness beneath my fingers. Then, I squeezed my pecs, enjoying the way they rippled beneath my touch.

I let my hands travel down to the bulge between my legs, squeezing it gently. My cock throbbed with excitement as I imagined what it would feel like to fuck someone with this body.

I picked up my phone, opened a dating app and messaged Jake using the Diego profile. We’d chatted a little bit on the app a few weeks earlier, and he seemed really interested in meeting up.

“Hey sexy,” I typed into the chat window. “Want to see some pics?”

“Sure thing, stud,” Jake responded. “Whatcha got?”

I smiled as I sent him a couple of pictures of myself wearing different leather and latex outfits.

“That’s hot,” Jake wrote. “Do you think you can do something even hotter tonight?”

I grinned as I typed back, “Of course, baby. Anything for you.”

****************************************************

A few weeks ago, I stumbled upon a Reddit thread mentioning "Heddon: House of Transformation" — a service offering realistic bodysuits that promised an entirely new level of personal transformation. Intrigued yet skeptical, I clicked through.

The website was adorned with glossy images of transformations and detailed testimonials from users who spoke of life-altering experiences. Video demos showcased the suits’ incredible realism and functionality, portraying seamless transitions from person to suit.

Admittedly, the site and service were new, which did little to alleviate my skepticism. However, a promotional offer for first-time users—a significant discount on their first order—was enough to tip the scales.

Despite my initial doubts and the nagging thought that it could all be an elaborate scam, I decided to take the plunge with some disposable income I’ve set aside.

I ordered a customized bodysuit modeled after a muscular Latino—a physique and persona so starkly different from my own that it felt like it could only exist in fantasies.

When the package arrived, it included not just the bodysuit but also detailed instructions for using the accompanying "Heddon: House of Transformation" app.

The app, once downloaded, allowed me to control the bodysuit’s features, including the crucial sealing process which would integrate the suit seamlessly with my own body.

When I first donned my new Diego bodysuit a few nights ago, I created a fake profile on the dating app and got tons of messages but one message caught my attention— it was my gym buddy Jake.

“Hi there! You’re so hot and cute!” he wrote.

“Thank you! You’re pretty handsome yourself,” I responded.

We chatted for a bit, discussing our hobbies and interests. I told him that I was looking for someone to share my fetishes with, and that I loved wearing latex.

He responded quickly, saying that he was also interested in exploring his kinks and that he loved wearing leather and latex. Before long, we were messaging each other every night, sharing our deepest desires and fantasies.

A few days later, Jake asked me if I would be willing to come over to his apartment and have some fun. I agreed, excited to finally meet him in person.

“I’m so glad you’re coming over,” he wrote back. “I’ve been dying to meet you in person.”

“Me too,” I replied. “I can’t wait to see you.”

****************************************************

Now, here I am, standing outside Jake’s apartment door, feeling nervous and excited all at once. I knocked on Jake's door and soon heard the sound of footsteps approaching. The door swung open, revealing Jake standing there in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

Diego! Come in!” he says, grinning at me. I follow him into the apartment, and he shuts the door behind us.

Jake leans against the door, studying my body. “Wow, you look amazing,” he says. “I never imagined you would actually look like this.”

“Thanks. It feels good to finally be able to meet you in person,” I reply. Jake smiles and directs me toward the living room. I remove my jacket, revealing my tight black muscle shirt and latex pants.

Jake’s eyes widen, and he lets out a low groan. “Damn, you’re fucking hot,” he says, running his hands along my chest. His hand then slides down my chest and over my crotch. “And you’re hard.”

“I am,” I whisper. “You make me feel so horny.”

We sit down on the couch, and Jake pours us some drinks. “So, tell me more about yourself,” he says. “What kind of stuff do you like doing?”

“Well, I love wearing leather and latex,” I say. “And I love playing different characters. Sometimes I dress up as a superhero, sometimes as a villain. It really depends on my mood.”

“That’s cool,” Jake says. “Me too. I love wearing my costumes, especially when I’m out with friends. It helps me let loose and have fun.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” I say. “Sometimes it’s hard to be yourself when you’re around other people, but when you’re in your costume, you can let go and be whoever you want to be.”

“Exactly,” Jake says, smiling. “It’s like a whole new world opens up when you put on a costume.”

Jake leans closer, his eyes locked on mine. “And sometimes, they bring us closer to our true selves than we ever thought possible. Maybe because we feel safe behind the mask, we can express our true feelings.”

The air between us charges with an unspoken understanding. I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “Have you ever felt that way? Like you’ve discovered something real about yourself through a character?”

Jake nods slowly, his gaze intensifying. “More often than you might think. Sometimes, it’s only when I'm someone else that I can express what I really feel... what I really want.”

I watch as he removes his towel, revealing his hard cock. I gasp in pleasure as he strokes himself slowly, looking straight into my eyes. The moment hangs heavy between us, laden with unvoiced desires.

Then, impulsively, Jake closes the distance, his lips meeting mine in a passionate kiss that feels like the culmination of our shared revelations. Our tongues dance together, exploring each other's mouths, as I moan softly and my fingers thread through Jake's soft hair.

Jake breaks away from our fervent kiss, leaving me breathless and longing for more. With a sultry grin, he stands up and begins to undress me, one piece at a time.

My excitement grows as he pulls my tight latex shirt over my head, exposing my toned chest and chiseled abs. He trails his fingers down my torso, sending delicious tingles through my entire body.

As Jake continues to undress me, his touch becomes increasingly intimate and sensual. He caresses my skin, grazing his fingertips along my shoulders, arms, and sides. I lean into his touch, letting the warmth of his hands linger on my skin.

Finally, Jake reaches my pants and skillfully slips them down my legs, revealing my matching black briefs. He pauses for a moment, admiring the sight of me in my underwear, before slowly removing them as well. Standing before him completely naked, I feel exposed yet empowered by his admiration.

Jake's eyes sparkle with lust as he looks me up and down. "You're beautiful," he whispers, his voice thick with desire.

My heart races as he bends down to press his lips against my chest, trailing kisses down to my abdomen. His hands explore my body, massaging my muscles and stroking my skin. I close my eyes, surrendering to the waves of pleasure that wash over me.

Just as I start to drift into blissful oblivion, Jake abruptly stops. I open my eyes to find him looking intently into my eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

"What's wrong?" I ask, confused by the sudden pause.

"Come with me," he murmurs. "I have something I want to show you. It’s my private collection."

He then gestured to a door at the end of the hall. My heart pounded in my chest as I followed him into the room.

Entering, I gasped in surprise at the sight. Scattered all over the room were several realistic bodysuits, each one more impressive than the last.

While pretending to be amazed, I wondered if Jake realized I was wearing a fake body.

Jake grinned. "My job has its perks," he explained. "I'm a beta tester for 'Heddon', so I get access to their entire collection."

"This is amazing," I remarked, feigning ignorance. My hands ran over one of the suits. "What are these things and how do they work?"

"Don't pretend you don't know," Jake chuckled. "You may think you're fooling me, but you aren't."

He was right. Staring at him in disbelief, I asked, "What?... what do you mean?"

"It's not a secret," Jake replied. "These suits have a distinct smell, and I've gotten used to it. I know when someone is wearing one."

I sighed, knowing I couldn't deny it any longer. "Okay, fine," I admitted. "You caught me. But please, don't tell anyone else. This is just between us."

"Of course," Jake nodded. "I understand."

He reached out and touched the side of my fake face. "I don't care who you are or what you're doing. I like the idea of someone else being able to take on a new identity for a while."

"Thank you," I said, smiling. "But seriously, why are you showing me all of these suits?"

Jake shrugged. "Since you're wearing one, I thought of wearing one as well," he suggested. "Maybe we can have a little role-play fun."

He then picked up a bodysuit that resembled a tanned male model with long hair. "Do you think this fits the bill?" he asked, holding it up.

I smirked and touched the bodysuit Jake had chosen. "Let's find out, shall we?"

[myster-roca]

Teaser Trailer for the upcoming Desires and Deception chapters

... more male transformations, disguises, bodysuits, etc. + brand new stories that will tickle your imagination. What do you think will come next? What other stuff would you like to see?

You can read the previous chapters here:

Chapter 1:

Desires and Deception: Full Undercover

"Your assignment: Assume the identity of a high-profile businessman and fitness guru with deep connections to the underworld elite. Your ob

Chapter 2:

Desires and Deception: Snake Operation Part 1

The thunderous cheers of the crowd faded away as I pumped my fists and struck a final victorious pose. The gleaming trophy for first place f

[myster-roca]

Desires and Deception: Snake Operation Part 1

The thunderous cheers of the crowd faded away as I pumped my fists and struck a final victorious pose. The gleaming trophy for first place felt heavy in my curled arm, the stage lights casting a sheen over every ridge and valley of muscle on my competition-ready physique.

It was a moment of triumph that sent a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins, amplified by the electric atmosphere of the event. From the front row, I could see Giovanni Salvatore on his feet applauding, his gaze fixed intensely on me. The plan was working flawlessly.

As the crowd dispersed within the opulent hotel hall, their murmurs echoed like distant thunderclaps. Since the bodybuilding contest was over, I handed my trophy to a member of my staff for safekeeping.

Descending from the stage, I navigated through the thinning clusters of guests, making my way toward Giovanni. With a respectful nod and acknowledging the presence of his vigilant guards, I approached Giovanni for a conversation. The faint scent of smoke mingled with his perfume, teasing my senses.

"Mr. Salvatore, thank you for gracing us with your presence tonight. Your support means a lot," I said, my voice carrying an air of unwavering confidence.

"Leave us," he instructed his guards. With a subtle gesture, they retreated, granting us a semblance of privacy amid the crowd.

"Congratulations for winning, Derek. Your dedication to your passion is truly admirable," Giovanni remarked, his gaze fixed on mine.

"I can tell there's more to you than meets the eye. What's your story, if you don't mind me asking?"

The question hung in the air, stirring a mixture of nerves and excitement within me. The truth was, I wasn't actually Derek Steele, the fitness influencer and professional bodybuilder.

My real name is Alex, a specialized undercover agent tasked with taking down Giovanni's powerful crime empire.

Wearing a high-tech full body muscle suit that clung to me like a second skin, I matched Derek's physical appearance and exuded the confidence of someone who had elaborately planned this moment. Having trained rigorously for over a month, I captured Derek's personality and mastered his mannerisms perfectly to seduce Giovanni.

The real Derek is in our custody and wasn't even aware that I had assumed his identity for this dangerous assignment.

“I have many stories," I replied, my tone measured and calculated. "Some would say I'm a businessman, while others might call me a visionary.

Giovanni raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Visionary, eh? Do you have a business proposal for me?"

Before I had the chance to respond, Giovanni's hand made a swift move, targeting the bulge of my crotch under the shimmering fabric. Instinctively, I held back just in time, subtly shifting away from his advance while keeping my composure intact.

"Indeed, I do. But perhaps we should discuss it in a more... private setting."

"Of course," he replied smoothly. "Follow me to the penthouse. We can talk business there."

Giovanni and I made our way to the luxurious elevator together with Marco, Giovanni's most trusted bodyguard. The doors closed behind us, and we ascended towards an exclusive floor reserved for the Mafia boss, my heart racing with anticipation. 

Marco frisked me to ensure my safety at the suite.  Upon disembarking on the 47th floor, Marco guided us through a labyrinth of corridors until we stood before an imposing set of intricate glass doors. There, Marco left us alone before the entrance to the suite.

As Giovanni pushed the doors open, I was greeted by a stunning display of wealth. The interior was a masterclass in elegance and design, with opulent furnishings that whispered tales of far-flung travels and exquisite taste. 

"Make yourself comfortable, Derek," Giovanni said, gesturing towards the plush seating arrangements that adorned the room. "Would you care for a drink?"

I declined politely, my focus unwavering as his gaze locked onto the contours of my toned muscles.

Giovanni poured himself a drink, the clink of ice against glass punctuating the silence between us.

"Come, Derek," he said, his voice low and commanding. “Before we go further with this discussion...let me have a taste of that body first,” he continued, a smirk playing on his lips.

My pulse quickened at his words, a mixture of apprehension and determination lurking beneath the veneer of seduction.

Giovanni wasted no time in unbuckling his belt, allowing his pants to fall to his ankles. He then shed his navy blue blazer and removed his white polo shirt. The sight of his toned muscles beneath the fabric sent a ripple of awareness through me, reminding me of the dangerous game we were playing. 

With a nod and a carefully crafted smile, I watched as he walked confidently toward the master bedroom, leaving me to follow in his wake. 

The air thickened with anticipation as I crossed the threshold into the dimly lit bedroom. Giovanni was already lying on the bed, beckoning me over with a devilish smile when I entered. His eyes gleamed with a hunger that mirrored my own, but beneath the surface, I remained cool and composed, a master of deception playing my part to perfection.

“Strip and dance for me, Derek,” he purred, turning on the music.

I removed my glittered posing trunks, revealing my bare ass to Giovanni. He admired my physique with a hungry gaze — lingering on my rippled, broad arms, tracing the sculpted depth of my chest, and the tight contours of my chiseled abs. 

Then, he instructed me to strut around the room. Complying, I showcased my muscular form, swaying to the music, his eyes tracking every move I made.

Each step I took was meticulously calculated, every word crafted with deliberate care. To Giovanni, I was the willing prey, the unsuspecting victim ensnared by his seductive charms. 

He fancied himself as the hunter in this game, but little did he know, I was the one orchestrating the dance between predator and prey. Everything was unfolding exactly as planned.

"Dance for me like no one's watching," he said with his eyes fixated on my movements. I continued my performance with the feeling of excitement building inside me.

Caught in the thrill, I was abruptly stopped by Giovanni's command. "Let me have a closer look at your cock," he demanded, his attention fixated on my crotch. 

I hesitated momentarily but then turned around to reveal my aroused state.  In reality, it was a realistic prosthetic, designed to cover my own, its tip filled with a sedative resembling semen, poised to incapacitate him upon ingestion. The substance had begun to leak, and I needed to act quickly before it became noticeable.

“Oh, you're feeling excited, huh? You've got quite a nice cock there,” he remarked, his eyes gleaming with desire. I looked down, pretending to be flushed with embarrassment.

“I wanted to give you a treat,” I replied hesitantly, knowing that the plan was going as anticipated but also aware of the risks involved. As Giovanni continued to observe me, he noticed the clear liquid dripping from my erect cock. His eyes widened with surprise and amusement.

“Are you dripping precum? That's a lot,” he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with delight.

“Yeah, it happens sometimes when I'm really horny,” I replied with a grin, knowing that the ruse was working. Giovanni was completely taken in by my charade.

"I want to taste it," he said with a wicked grin. Before I could say anything, he got on his knees and took my erect cock into his mouth, sucking it with undeniable enthusiasm.

He sucked with a hunger that was almost primal, his tongue swirling around the shaft as his lips engulfed the tip. I looked down at him, my heart pounding in my chest as I wondered if the sedative was taking effect. 

“Oh my god... you taste so good,” he mumbled, his words slightly slurred. 

To my surprise, Giovanni showed no signs of slowing down. In fact, he seemed to be more energized than before. 

Confused and somewhat panicked, I decided to just go with the flow and see where things led. The sedative continued to flow out of my artificial cock, dripping down Giovanni's chin and onto the floor.

I just remembered that I needed to ensure enough of the sedative had entered his bloodstream to knock him out, as the effect would take a while. So, I continued to thrust into him with full force.

He didn't seem to notice or care, lost in the pleasure of tasting my synthetic cum. After what seemed like an eternity of passionate sucking, Giovanni eventually released my cock from his mouth, allowing some of the cum to drip onto the floor. He wiped his mouth, then scooped up some of it and rubbed it onto his own throbbing erection.

“Lean forward and let me lick your ass,” he demanded with a hungry look in his eyes.

Playing along to continue the charade, I obliged, bending forward to offer myself to him. Giovanni, eager and impatient, quickly spread my cheeks and dove in, his face pressing against me. The sensation of his tongue, licking and nibbling at my entrance, sent shivers of pleasure through me.

"Mmmmm... this is so good," he murmured against me, his breath warm against my skin, his voice vibrating with savory pleasure.

The pleasure was overwhelming, causing me to moan and writhe. My entire body trembled on the edge of release. Giovanni, sensing how close I was, redoubled his efforts, his tongue dancing over my most sensitive spot with a precision that promised nothing but ecstasy.

After it was over and his whispers faded into silence, I stood up and turned to see the satisfied expression on Giovanni’s face. 

"Fuck, you taste so good, buddy," Giovanni said, his smile beaming with pleasure.

The way Giovanni looked at me, it was strange—his mannerisms, his choice of words, even his actions seemed off from the Giovanni I had meticulously researched for over a month. It was as if I was dealing with a completely different person. This realization sent a ripple of alarm through me; the sedative hadn't taken effect yet, and I found myself scrambling mentally for another way to keep this unfamiliar Giovanni engaged.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? You seem a bit... distant," Giovanni's voice, laced with concern, broke through my thoughts.

I shook my head, plastering a practiced smile on my face to dispel any doubts he might harbor. "No, I'm fine. Just a little tired from the competition, that's all," I lied, hoping my voice sounded more convincing than I felt.

"Well, we can always take things slow tonight. No need to rush," he replied, his smile disarming.

"Thanks, Mr. Salvatore," I said, offering a gesture of respect and a momentary mask for my racing thoughts.

"Just call me Daddy," he insisted, his eyes softening, reducing the distance between us.

"Of course, Daddy," I acquiesced, my heart pounding not just from fear but also from the adrenaline and the sheer awkwardness of the situation.

"Maybe this will help you relax," he said as he wrapped his arm around my neck and leaned closer for a kiss.

As our lips touched, I pressed on, letting the kiss deepen, letting myself get lost in the illusion of passion. For now, I had to keep up the act, to play the part of the willing participant.

At that moment, a sudden memory flashed through my mind. I recalled that medications administered through the rectal mucosa can result in faster absorption into the bloodstream. Suddenly, a brilliant idea struck me.

Without raising suspicion, I discreetly activated the hidden mechanism in my realistic prosthetic cock, releasing the backup sedative stored in its artificial balls. This action also caused my own erection to harden, and I made sure he could feel it growing firmer against his thigh as our bodies came closer together.

"Oh my god, your cock feels so fucking huge!" Giovanni exclaimed, his hand reaching down to grasp my shaft. "It's so much bigger than before when I sucked you." 

"That's because it wasn't quite ready when you sucked me earlier," I answered back, taking advantage of the opportunity to continue my charade.

Giovanni grinned widely, his hands stroking and gripping my throbbing member. His touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. He slid lower until his fingers reached the base of my shaft, cupping my balls gently. With a smirk, he teased me further, "Do you want to fuck me again?"

My heart skipped a beat as this was exactly what I needed. My plan had worked perfectly. Nodding with feigned eagerness, I whispered, "Yes, please," in response.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Giovanni walked toward the bed, lay down backward, and spread his legs wide open. His thick, muscular thighs gleamed in the low light of the room. His powerful arms held his head steady while his hands rested on his hips, inviting me to come closer.

"Come here, buddy," he called out, his voice filled with anticipation, "Show me how badly you want this."

I obliged, moving closer to the edge of the bed and slowly lowering my body onto his, aligning our groins. With determination, I seized the waistband of Giovanni’s briefs and yanked them down. Then, I grabbed his legs and spread them apart, exposing his tight hole. I paused for a moment, allowing myself to take in the view. Taking a deep breath, I focused on the task at hand.

Giovanni moaned softly as I rubbed my tip against his entrance. "Go ahead," he urged me. "Give it to me. Fuck me real hard."

Then I felt something warm and sticky gush out of my dickhead. A small amount of liquid oozed out of the tip of my cock and dripped onto his hole. Perfect timing.

I thrust forward, pushing my shaft deep inside him. Giovanni gasped as I entered him. I began to move slowly at first, then gradually picked up speed. Our bodies moved in rhythmic harmony, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air.

"Deeper, buddy, deeper. Fuck me harder," he urged, his breathing becoming heavier with every thrust.

I couldn't believe how good it felt to be inside him, the warmth and wetness of his insides enveloping me like a velvet glove. As I continued thrusting, I knew that with every stroke, more of the sedative would enter his body.

"Oh god, yeah! Fuck me harder!" Giovanni cried out, his breath coming in short pants. "Fill me up, fill me up with your hot seed!"

I increased the pace, slamming my hips into him with renewed vigor. I could feel my cock pulsing inside him, delivering the final dose of sedative directly into his bloodstream. With one last powerful thrust, I released a flood of liquid into his insides, ensuring that soon he would be rendered helpless by the sedative coursing through his veins.

As I withdrew my shaft from his body, I could see the dazed look in his eyes. He was already beginning to feel the effects of the sedative. I knew it wouldn’t be long before he would be completely under my control.

"Hey, let's switch positions," he suggested. "This time, I want to ride you."

I complied, lying down on the bed and spreading my legs wide open. Giovanni climbed on top of me, positioning himself between my legs. I watched as he straddled me, his strong hands holding my shoulders firmly.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice barely audible above the sound of our breathing.

I nodded, closing my eyes as he lowered himself onto me. I could feel his weight pressing down on me, his hot breath tickling my ear as he kissed along my jawline. I moaned softly, enjoying the sensation of being dominated by such a powerful man.

Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind. How do I know that this isn't some kind of trick? What if this isn't the real Giovanni? What if there's someone else controlling him right now? The possibility sent chills down my spine.

"Who are you?" I demanded, opening my eyes to stare at him.

Giovanni froze, his eyes widening in surprise. "What do you mean?" he stammered.

"You don't sound like him," I said, trying to maintain my composure despite the rising panic in my chest.

"How did you kno—" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Before he could say anything else, I pushed him away from me, rolling onto my side. I lunged towards him and grabbed his face, pulling at it forcefully. 

To my shock, what I believed to be his skin stretched and gave way under my fingers, revealing it to be a realistic mask. Beneath the mask was not the familiar features of Giovanni but a face that did not match the body, implying he was also wearing a realistic muscle suit.

As the full effect of the sedative took hold, the figure before me could no longer maintain his ruse. He slumped to the ground as his body surrendered and plunged into unconsciousness.

"What's going on? What the hell is this?" I muttered, examining the mask with a mix of frustration and disbelief. "Where's the real Giovanni?"

To be continued . . .

(For explicit version of this story, see link below:)

Desires and Deception - Snake Operation Part 1.pdf

Shared with Dropbox

[myster-roca]

Teaser Trailer for the upcoming Desires and Deception chapters

... more male transformations, disguises, bodysuits, etc. + brand new stories that will tickle your imagination. What do you think will come next? What other stuff would you like to see?

You can read the previous chapters here:

Chapter 1:

Desires and Deception: Full Undercover

"Your assignment: Assume the identity of a high-profile businessman and fitness guru with deep connections to the underworld elite. Your ob

Chapter 2:

Desires and Deception: Snake Operation Part 1

The thunderous cheers of the crowd faded away as I pumped my fists and struck a final victorious pose. The gleaming trophy for first place f

[myster-roca]

What type of transformations would you like to see?

male to male (multiple identities)

male to otherwordly creature/entities

male to female or female to male (multiple identities)

a mixture of all of the above

Voting ended onFeb 21, 2024

[myster-roca]

Behind the Scenes for "Desires and Deception"

Some pics and concepts that didn't make it to the first chapter (also due to limitations on the platform). Do you think they would fit better in an e-book or comic form?

Next chapter will be coming up soon.

The Protagonist reading His New Assignment.

Other angles of the Realistic Muscle Suit.

Muscle Undersuit before getting into the Realistic Muscle Bodysuit.

Applying the bald cap and retrofitting the Muscle Suit.

Applying the Prosthetic Chiseled Face of the Bodybuilder.

Character shots for documentation and for the look test.

Character shots during and after the muscle transformation.

Transformation Process concepts with other agents.

SPOILER WARNING!

Protagonist testing the artificial prosthetic cock (non-realistic version) needed for his mission.

Do you prefer to see more 'behind the scenes' pics?

[myster-roca]

Wow, they look great, what AI program?? Easy to use? I could really make better stories using pics like that.

I use a lot of AI sites to help improve the look but I mostly use lensgo.ai. It's quite easy to use but your prompts need to be very spcific if you want to maximize its potential. The images are not always what you would expect but they are mostly good. It used to be free but now is a paid service which I think they deserve since they generate really good images. I also use some faceswap and deepfake AI to make the look more accurate.