Trust Us, We Make You New
CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes.
If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.
Trust Us, We Make You New
CORPUS.INC continued to gain strength in the market; it was a publicly traded company, yes. It was somewhat controversial due to its practices involving body swapping and possessions here and there (activists questioned the ethics of monetizing people's bodies), but without a law to stop them, it was merely a moralistic question.
Although, of course, there were certain... under-the-table exchanges and arrangements.
The announcement that the Secretary of the Treasury was stepping down due to health issues to allow his Deputy Secretary to take over didn't surprise anyone or raise any alarms. Secretary Harwell was already too old, out of touch with certain issues, and terribly rigid. Criticism and commentary were inevitable every time he appeared on camera or gave a speech; he was a dinosaur trying to stay relevant, and that bothered people.
So, allowing his Deputy Secretary, Bennet, to take over was the best idea. He had only been selected a few weeks prior. He was strong, muscular, and attractive (because, well, image matters in politics too, right?). He displayed a mental agility and charisma that far surpassed his predecessor — of course, people loved him!
Big, strong, attractive, his Instagram was full of images that were a mix of suits and political speeches and gym sessions, self-care, and attractive selfies. He was the perfect replacement, the first step for the old generation to leave once and for all and let the new ones rise to power, right?...
— Yes, yes. I know your products are still new, I'm not complaining about that – Bennet said, flexing on the terrace of his new penthouse. There was a beautiful view of Manhattan, and he even had a pool – I know it's a prototype, I'm trusting you, but I want you to fix this.
— Mr. Harwell, as I explained, it’s normal for your old memories and those of your new body to merge; it’s a completely normal process of symbiosis. Moreover, given the semi-permanent nature of the process, it’s a reabsorption.
— Yes, but I don’t want this guy’s gay thoughts in my head! – he said in frustration. Having to stop himself with his muscles sweating and burning, he was finding it so hard not to want to smell his armpit.
It had been largely his fault. He hadn’t even given much thought to who he’d choose to be his new body; he’d just looked for attractive, muscular guys, a pretty face to be his puppet. It didn’t need knowledge of politics or finance; after all, he’d be the brains, he just needed the muscles.
And now he seriously regretted it. It turned out Bennet was addicted to smelling himself; he loved the stench of sweaty armpits, not only his own but other men’s as well. Images of him kissing other men, their muscles pressed together, panting, sweaty, and reeking. Damn! He had to stop because his tool had become "anxious."
— As I said before, Secretary Harwell…
— I don't give a damn about your explanations! Fix this now. It's the service I'm paying for! – There was silence on the other end of the line.
— Sure, we apologize. I'm sending an update to your neurotransmitter to fix the problem. Give me a few minutes. You'd better be sitting or lying down.
The man smiled victoriously. Finally, he could enjoy this new body properly. He settled into one of the outdoor chairs, put his feet up on the table, and stretched his muscular body. He waited for a while with his eyes closed, feeling nothing. He was about to ask when he felt a sharp pain in his temple. He had to stifle a scream and grip the armrests. What the hell was happening?!
— Shit! It hurts! Fix it right now!
— It's normal to feel that during the process. Please wait a second.
— I'll sue you. You sons of bitches! Ugh!
He felt the pressure in his skull increase. He squeezed his eyes and hands shut as he writhed. Images of other men surged through his mind, memories of Bennet's adventures at the gym during rush hour also surfaced, and the urge to smell his own armpits was uncontrollable.
— Please wait a little longer, Mr. Bennet. The upgrade is almost finished. We thank you for hiring CORPUS.Inc, and remember: Trust us with your future – The line cut out, Bennet sat in the chair for a while longer, his breathing ragged, his headache starting to subside, he opened his eyes confused, and put his hand to his forehead, wincing in pain.
— Fuck... I need to take an aspirin or something.
He rubbed his head for a while longer. He still had some paperwork to do regarding taxes and finances; he remembered everything he needed to perform his new role in the cabinet, down to the last detail. Although... he felt more relaxed. Why had he been so annoyed moments before?
Meh. Never mind, it was better if he got to work.
Should he shower and put something on? He was all sweaty and smelly. Nah! He could work like this; after all, he loved the smell.
Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don’t forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.
I’m always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story… Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
titsay
turnnoffyourmind
germansingergirl
theartofmadeline
dailybridgerton
