Bro. I love your stories. Do you ever rp merging?
Honestly I’m dogshit at doing rp, I don’t really get a lot out of it, but I’m always happy to hear your story ideas! I’m just flattered y’all keep wanting to squeeze up into this 🤙
we're not kids anymore.
DEAR READER
$LAYYYTER
wallacepolsom
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

pixel skylines
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
taylor price
tumblr dot com
YOU ARE THE REASON
styofa doing anything

tannertan36
d e v o n

if i look back, i am lost
No title available
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Monterey Bay Aquarium
almost home

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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@overwatch-daddy
Bro. I love your stories. Do you ever rp merging?
Honestly I’m dogshit at doing rp, I don’t really get a lot out of it, but I’m always happy to hear your story ideas! I’m just flattered y’all keep wanting to squeeze up into this 🤙
Johnny’s Spooky Possession
Johnny Cage was enjoying his time on Spooky Island for his vacation from acting and was ready for a week of nothing but booze and hot babes. That night, Johnny arrived at the party going on in the resort and everyone was having a fun time drinking, talking, and dancing. Johnny found himself a pretty girl on a couch, so he decided to lounge on the couch to try and woo her. Unfortunately, before Johnny could even score with the babe, her eyes widened with horror, as the resort's large window shattered behind Johnny.
Johnny: What the fu...
There were multiple terrified gasps, as Johnny turned to come face-to-face with a massive ten-foot-tall demon creature. The girl Johnny was trying to flirt with instantly ran away, along with some of the other guests, as the demon tried to grab Johnny, who delivered an uppercut to knock the creature out.
Johnny: Hehe, that'll teach ya to interrupt with my flirting.
Dozen more demons began appearing in the resort through windows, doors, under the floor, and so on, as they began to grab and capture the guests and using their green breath to knock out the guests. One of the demons tried to attack Johnny, who did his well-known nut punch on the demon, stunning it for a bit, allowing Johnny to make a quick escape outside and into the forest surrounding the resort and leaned against a tree to catch his breath.
Johnny: This is NOT my idea of a vacation! I just wanted to party and get a babe. That too much to ask?
Just then, Johnny felt a tap on his shoulder, making him turn around and it's another massive demon, who growled at him. Before Johnny could do anything, the demon quickly swept up the cocky actor in its massive claw and then let out its green breath to knock out Johnny.
Johnny: Well...shit...
Johnny began to wake up, realizing he's now trapped in a massive cave while finding the other prisoners, who were bound with ropes while Johnny found himself shirtless and trapped on a cross-shaped contraption with his hands stuck out to his sides and cuffed down. Johnny's feet were on a pedestal that had him lifted about three feet off the ground and his ankles were also cuffed to the contraption.
Johnny: Okay, I dunno what the hell's goin' on, but let me out! I'm not diggin' this!
While looking around, Johnny noticed a man on a ledge overlooking him and the prisoners and on the ledge was a joystick that appeared to control a pincer-like device sitting above a glowing vat below. The man began to work the joystick, moving the claw device closer to Johnny, who tried to struggle to break free, but it was useless, as the claw hovered over the actor's bare chest for a moment.
Johnny: Uh, dude, what're you...
The man thrusted the control forward, plunging the claw into Johnny's chest, creating a blue glow around the area it had entered. The claw closed in Johnny's chest and then began to pull backwards, dragging something out with it by a translucent blue tail. Eventually, a head emerged from Johnny's chest, revealing to be his protoplasmic form of his head, making Johnny's body fall limp from the extraction.
Johnny: Hey, what the fuck's going on?! Is that my body?! Put me back in, dammit!
The mechanical arm moved the claw over the vat and dumped Johnny's protoplasmic head into the vat below. Soon after, one of the demons jumped up from a crevasse in the ground and made its way over to Johnny's body, as its lanky body druges through the cave. The demon took its large paw, lifting Johnny's limp chin upward and pulling his mouth downward. The creature took its other hand and began to push it slowly down into Johnny's mouth while turning itself into particles. Johnny's body began to inhale its new host, with the demon's arm in and before long, Johnny's body began to manually swallow the demon while the body convulsed during the swallowing. After a few seconds, the last bit of the demon made its way down Johnny's throat, as its mouth closed tightly. Johnny swallowed the demon hard, as it landed into Johnny's stomach. Two more workers came over to help the now possessed Johnny off the cross and led him away.
The demon in Johnny's body began to rub its new vessel, loving the skin, the muscles, and the face while making an evil smile, knowing it's going to enjoy being Johnny Cage, as the eyes glowed a sinister green color.
Bodyswap and Transformation Reactions/Tropes
There are a collection of recurring visual devices that are used with film and tv when a transformation of the body occurs. I do roleplay and talk alot about TF with people which usually leads to photos being taken to enhance the fantasy for them, I tend to give them a vague guide to what kinds of pictures to take and the advice “act it out!” the best photos comes from you actually having fun, a miserable selfie will not enhance anything, pretend you are in that situation and really imagine the emotions of being in that situation.
THE WAKE UP- Usually features a shocked expression of disbelief, jumping up out of bed or outstretched arms. Completely shocked that something has changed
MIRRORS- Mirrors are extremely important in transformation they allow the subject to fully explore and see what has happened
FACE FEELING- Checking out how they look, this is very over the top as noone really touches there face like that and thats why its important to do it.
THE BODY- Maybe they are taller, fatter, slimmer, muscular. There body has changed and they need to feel it all over and see it from every angle
HAIR- Head hair or bodyhair, maybe there age changed so they are now more mature and have hair everywhere, maybe they’ve never had hair before or maybe they now have no hair at all and can’t believe how smooth they are.
GOOFY- They’ve accepted that this is now what they look like, now they can really start to enjoy it as the thoughts start zooming into there head of the fun things they can get up to in there new body. This sequence usually features doing silly expression, dancing around and flexing. You’re not you right now, you’re a kid in a candy shop/
THE BIG REVEAL- Usually the final thing in a reaction sequence, the fun suddenly stops as they realise they now have something new in there pants. This part of the sequence is usually quite slow as they slowly open there underwear and take a quick peak and give a smile.
My Bully stole my Boyfriend
I pushed open the front door, exhausted from a long shift, and immediately smiled when I saw Jake in his usual spot, the big armchair in the living room.
He was slouched back lazily, legs spread wide apart, those thick, hairy thighs on full display in his grey shorts. His black t-shirt was riding up just enough to show a strip of his beefy stomach, and the silver chain around his neck caught the light. He looked so good… but something felt off. His posture was too cocky, too relaxed in a way that didn’t quite feel like my sweet, slightly shy boyfriend.
“Babe?” I called out, kicking off my shoes. “You okay? You look like you’re in your own world over there.”
Jake slowly turned his head toward me. The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk, not the soft, warm smile I was used to, but something sharper. Meaner. His eyes dragged over me slowly, like he was sizing me up for the first time. He let out a low, deep chuckle that sent a chill down my spine.
“Damn… you really don’t have a clue, do you?” he said, voice sounding exactly like Jake’s, but the tone was all wrong. Arrogant. Cruel.
I froze halfway across the room. “What are you talking about?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he spread his legs even wider, slouching deeper into the chair, and casually dragged one hand up his thick thigh, fingers digging into the dense hair there. His other hand rested on his crotch, gently palming the heavy bulge through the shorts like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“I’ve been sitting here for hours,” he continued, still Jake’s voice but with a mocking edge, “just… enjoying myself. Feeling how heavy this cock is. Smelling that strong, musky scent every time I shift. Fuck, your boyfriend’s body is way better than I ever imagined.”
My stomach twisted. “Jake… you’re scaring me. Stop messing around.”
He laughed again, louder this time, and sat up a little, resting his elbows on his knees. The t-shirt stretched tight across his broad chest.
“C’mon, don’t you recognize me yet?” He tilted his head, Jake’s handsome face twisting into that same smug grin my bully used to wear back in high school. “It’s me, Derek.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. Derek?? The man who made my college experience a living hell? The man who locked me out of our dorm room whilst he fucked girls in my bed but would hurl insults my way if I ever asked to have a man over??
“Died 2 years ago bro, trapped as a wondering soul. Then I saw you and your boyfriend out and about and knew I’d found my next lease on life. Slipped right into your precious boyfriend’s body and pushed him out. Been wearing him like a warm, hairy skinsuit ever since.”
Derek ran both of Jake’s hands slowly down his torso, squeezing the solid pecs through the shirt, then sliding lower to rub over his stomach.
“Hmm… I don’t think I’m gonna leave this body,” he said casually, like he was talking about keeping a new pair of shoes. “It’s too fucking perfect. So thick. So hairy. The way it smells after a day of sweating… goddamn, it’s intoxicating.”
He lifted one arm, buried his face in Jake’s pit, and took a long, shameless sniff, moaning loudly.
“See? Even his pits are perfect. Strong, manly, musky. I’ve been rock hard for hours just from being in him.”
Derek looked straight at me, eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction, and gave the bulge in Jake’s shorts another slow, possessive squeeze.
“So yeah… Jake’s gone. Locked away somewhere deep inside while I get to enjoy every inch of this hot fucking body. The muscle, the thighs, this thick cock, it’s all mine now.”
He stirred, “Was planning on using this bod to go get some pussy now that I’m alive again but it seems your precious boyfriends sexuality takes the win… but I can make that work”
He leaned back again, spreading his legs wide and smiling like he’d just won the lottery.
“You can cry, beg, or try to fight me if you want… but I’m staying. This body feels way too good to give up. I think I’m gonna keep it forever.”
Derek winked at me with my boyfriend’s face.
“Welcome to your new boyfriend, loser.”
Originally written by hubbypossession
"What do you think of these two?" I ask my husband, Ryan, as we peer around the corner and see what looks to be a father and son getting ready to go on a hike.
"Heh, you sure have been kinky. Only if I get the son. I wanna suck off that huge dick." Ryan says as he points to the dad's bulge in the compression shorts.
"Aww, I was thinking the same thing... Fine. We just need to get out of these bodies. I seriously hate being a woman. Definitely not for me." I sigh as I now start to eye the older man drinking some water.
"I kind of liked you as my wife. Give yourself some credit Louis. We spent two days in these bodies. That's more than we normally last." Ryan says as he looks at me one more time.
"Just get ready to jump. We gotta make eye contact at the same time." I ready my sights on my target when I look over at Ryan and see he already jumped. His previous body collapses to the ground.
______________
Suddenly the younger man sits upright in the back of the pickup and runs his hands down his body. A smirk appears on his face.
"Hey Daddy, looking good." He remarks as he eyes his new father up and down.
"Son? What did you say?" The older man questions.
"Fuck, I can't wait to suck you off in just a little bit. Even better if we can get a little sweaty and musky first."
"What the fuck-?" Suddenly the older man is interrupted as he is possessed by Louis. His face twitches before he takes a deep inhalation.
"Fuck Ryan, I told you to wait."
"Couldn't help myself. Damn we look good now. This kid feels nice."
"Yeah, I feel good too. Damn, this is so much better than being a chick." Louis says as he flexes his biceps and admires his masculine body.
"Oh yeah. We're gonna have fun as a brand new father and son." Ryan flirts as he hops off the pickup and saunters towards Louis. "Let's start the fun now."
"Sure thing son, let's just keep this trip between us. No need for your mother to find out."
Ryan lustily pulls down his dad's shorts and gets on his knees. He licks his lips before letting Louis's new cock flop out.
"I love you Dad."
"I love you too son. Now, why don't you please Daddy, just like you promised."
Body-a-Day #15: Son
This is a sequel to this story. The 2nd host who got infected with the parasite.
#
Geoffrey Bradston nearly spat out his coffee when his college-aged son, Noah, walked in completely naked. “H-Huh? Noah?!” was all he was about to exclaim as he witnessed the bizarre sight.
Face flushed, Noah was just able to utter, “H-Hey dad. Uhh… I’m not feeling too well.” He let out a small chuckle as he stumbled through the kitchen. Geoff shot up from his seat and caught Noah before he collapsed. Thanks to his much larger stature, it wasn’t so difficult to half-carry and guide Noah back to his room.
The father and son weren’t renting a beach house like quite a few of the current population of the town, but naturally lived here for most of their lives once Geoff finally divorced from Noah’s mother. He was well-off with a fine job and Noah had most of his roots here, so Noah stayed in the fine beach town while visiting his mother over the colder holidays. However, now that his son was sick, Geoff was wondering if maybe he should give his ex-wife a call.
“It’s not that bad, dad,” insisted Noah as though he could read Geoff’s thoughts.
As Noah crawled back into the sheets, Geoff leaned in and placed his palm on Noah’s forehead. Yep, definitely a fever, he thought. He gave Noah some medicine, a tall glass of water, and told him, “Get some rest, son. Hey, at least you can say you’ve only ever gotten fevers during the summertime, huh?” he said, chuckling. Noah just gave him an annoyed groan in response.
As Geoff left to run some errands for his son's sake, Noah’s body began to convulse as the parasite took over. He let out pained pants for help, saying, “D-Dad… Dad, heeeelp…” but nobody came to his aid as his sweaty body continuously ground against the sheets.
About an hour later, Geoff went back to check up on his son. “Oh?” he said in surprise as he saw Noah sitting up on the bed, stretching with a pleased look on his face. “Well you’re looking good. How’re you doing?” He leaned in to feel Noah’s forehead. Nope, no heat.
Grinning, Noah said, “I’m all better now, daddy-o. Don’t worry about me.” Despite his son’s words, Geoff didn’t miss the sweat on the white sheets and Noah’s lack of clothes. Mercifully his bottom half was still covered up by the blankets.
“Daddy-o? That’s a new one,” said Geoff. “Well glad it broke so quickly. Still, rest up for today. You don’t want to end up getting sick again, okay?” Noah playfully protested before wrapping himself back in his sheets, still smiling blissfully. Though Geoff thought it was a bit off for Noah, he remained unaware of what was actually going on inside of his son.
Once night fell, Geoff collapsed onto his bed and lazily kicked his shoes off. He groaned at the dull thud! as they crashed into the opposite wall, but he was too tired to care. Still worried for Noah, Geoff ran all over town stocking up on medications and remedies in case his condition worsened. From his perspective it paid to be paranoid. Once he verified that Noah’s fever had gone down, he finally went to bed. It was far too hot to wear pajamas to bed, so Geoff just stripped down to his boxers and threw himself under the sheets.
That night, Noah awoke as a whole new person. No, not just that, he awoke as a whole new organism—the combination of parasite and human. And the only thing running through his mind was the desire to breed, spread, and conquer. Dad… Noah thought, grinning wickedly to himself as he imagined gifting his other brethren these extraordinary sensations.
In the past hours that Noah had spent panting on the bed, he was creating new brethren inside of his young and supple body. Now, since night had fallen and Geoff was fast asleep, it was the perfect time to spread his gift to his father. Somewhat stiff and robotically, as the new Noah wasn’t quite used to piloting a human body, he sat up and swung his new, powerful legs. He stood up, enjoying the simple pleasures that came from using a body with such strength and vigor.
After a few steps, Noah developed a confident strut. It didn't take long for the parasite to figure out fine motor controls as it assimilated the entirety of Noah's brain. He walked over to his father’s room and gently pushed the door open. The new Noah had access to all of his old memories, which included the knowledge of how heavy of a sleeper his father could be. From what he could recall, his father once slept through an entire St. Patrick’s Day parade right outside their door.
Practically shivering with excitement, Noah climbed onto the bed and knelt beside his father. It was nice to just take a quick moment to just stare at the specimen before him. A nice, fertile body. It would generate even more of our brethren rather quickly. Wouldn’t mind making this my little sex toy, either, Noah thought, his mind filled with thoughts that would make the original recoil in horror.
He was on his hands and knees over his father’s oblivious body and watched hungrily as his thicker chest rose and fell peacefully. The new Noah envied how strong his father’s body must’ve been. Though this one was nice, he could only imagine how wonderful Geoff’s body would feel to his incoming brethren.
Speaking off, Noah bit his bottom lip to stop his moans as his erect cock started to convulsing. “F-Fuck…!” he couldn’t help but utter out-loud as a new parasite crawled through his body. It had chosen to exit through the cock, no doubt to tease Noah one last time before leaving the body completely.
The parasite emerged and landed on the bed without even a sound. Its slick body was dripping with a bit of pre-cum it had drawn out of Noah with its shameless exit. Noah gestured to Geoff with his chin and the parasite followed.
Now, let’s get the show started, thought Noah as he finally rested his thinner body on top of Geoff and began to kiss him just as the parasite began its entrance through Geoff’s cock to the owner’s intense discomfort. Noah smirked as his father groaned into mouth and began to tremble. The hairs on his thicker body tickled Noah as he began to grind on the mountains of muscle, fat, and hair that he envied so. His hands groped and caressed the succulent pecs on his father’s chest.
“Nrgh…!” Although being invaded, Geoff did not wake up. He groaned out loud and muttered, “Oh… Gloria,” the name of Noah’s old mother, but nothing more. And soon, she would be even less than nothing as the invasion continued.
Sitting up on top of his father's massive torso, Noah was practically vibrating with excitement as he stared at his father’s body. The way his thick, manly pectorals tightened; the veins that were becoming visible in his muscular, hairy arms; and the slight scowl on and tiny moans that left his his kissable lips as the invasion of his body began all drove him insane.
“Fuck, fuck…!” Noah whispered to himself. Despite having just jerked himself hard enough that his legs still felt like jelly, he couldn’t help but try to quell that burning feeling inside his chest. He crawled over to his father’s crotch and took a deep whiff of the musk. His hole quivered in anticipation while he played with his sleeping father’s dick.
The parasite inside of Noah whined and moaned, and got into a squat and gently lowered himself onto his father’s throbbing dick. For a moment, the whole world went white. Before being infected, Noah only had casual flings with a girl or two. Never before had he thought about playing with his ass—let alone taking a cock. But the new Noah, infused with an insatiable lust and desire to spread, understood that his hole needed to be stuffed as often as humanly possible. His hips quivered as he rose just before pulling off and then sliding back down.
“Haah, nrgh…!” Noah bit his bottom lip as his still-virgin hole tried engulfing the dick that created him. The whole time, he ran his hands up and down new body to familiarize himself with it. Jerking off had been such a rewarding experience, but this was something entirely different. It felt like this was his new purpose in life. Yes, being his father’s cockhole was all he could think about now. Years of studying and aspirations dribbled out of him like his vigorous precum that cascaded down his father’s stomach. All he could think was, Cock, cock, need more! Need him to split me open!
The bed springs creaked in protest, but Noah didn’t care. His riding got faster and bolder as pressure was building up in his core. He could feel it coming, he could—
“N-Noah…!” His father finally awoke. His eyes widened as he stared at his own son riding his dick like an expert. “Why…?” he began, face flushed and tears in his eyes. He let out a manly groan and thrust into Noah, who clutched his knees and cried out in pleasure. “I-I can’t… I can’t stop!” His hands shot out and gripped his son’s shoulders as he forcibly switched their positions. He looked on in horror as his body moved without his control.
Geoff knew this was wrong, but something inside of h im was forcing him to continue. It whispered to him, telling him that this was nromal and kind. “This is what your son craves, this is what our brethren wants,” the voice inside of him said. Geoff tried shaking hius head, but he found he could no longer do that. All he could weas remain a passive observer as his body pounded his beautiful son Noah. Ohhh, the way that the sweat coating his toned chest shimmered in the moonlit room…
Although there remained a part of Geoff still trying to resist the parasite, his body grit its teeth and trembled as control truly shifted to another, more lustful Geoff. “Nrgh! Fuck, my son’s hole feels so damn good!” Geoff cried out with a masculine roar. Noah, now reduced to a satisfied and drooling mess, reached up to rub his dad’s impressive chest. “C’mon, c’mon—cum for daddy, young man. Y’know I want it.” The new Geoff didn’t bother with the charade and simply wanted to draw out as much pleasure from the stud beneath him.
“Ohhh, oh dad…!” were all the words Noah was able to utter. He couldn’t even focus on his father, all he could do was stare up at the ceiling as his body was rocketed by the most violent climax of his life—all mere hours of it. “Aaahh...HAAAAAAAH!” Noah’s back arched as his cock fired hot sticky loads all over Geoff’s chest. Smirking, Geoff lathered the cum over his body like a lotion, feeling a sense of pride as a father and as an invader for his newly-acquired skills in the bedroom.
“Hey, c’mon!” Geoff roughly smacked Noah’s still-trembling thighs. “Your hole’s getting loose! Keep it tight, slut…!” he roared. “Nrgh, fuck…! Fucking, goddamn, it feels so hot!” Geoff kept crying out, flexing his new arms, absolutely enthralled by this new strength and virility. Even though Geoff’s body was older than Noah, it felt absolutely loaded in stamina and testosterone.
With another guttural roar, Geoff threw himself onto his son and flipped him over to swap positions, rubbing their chests together as his thrust increased. He was so close! It felt as though his very brain was melting. By now, no part of Geoff was disgusted or horrified by the taboo act between father and son. From the tiniest of cells to the very skin he wore, every part of Geoff wanted Noah’s hole absolutely filled with his cum. The bed continued creaking, but Geoff’s thundering shouts and Noah’s screams of pleasure easily drowned it out.
“Fuck, I’m fucking cumming, son! Fuck, feel it! Feel it inside!” Geoff cried out one last time, thrusting deep inside Noah. He dug his face into his son’s neck, nuzzling him and clutching him as tight as he could as what seemed like five or six shots of cum painted Noah’s insides.
Then, finally, the two relaxed and collapsed into a pile of sweaty, exhausted, and still horny limbs. Though the new Geoff and Noah wanted to keep going, their bodies were far too spent. The two resolved to begin training for stamina before falling asleep for the night.
“So what now, son?” asked Geoff, arms wrapped out Noah’s smaller frame. Though he was the larger of the two, it was Noah that was more experienced—even if it was only by a few hours.
“Isn’t it obvious, daddy-o?” giggled Noah as he placed a tender kiss on his father’s lips. He shivered as Geoff’s rougher and hairier chin tickled his own. “We gotta keep on breeding and spreading our little gifts to everyone else in town. All that cum you pumped into me is already becoming more and more of our brethren inside of me.”
Geoff beamed. “Oh son, I’m so proud of you. You changed this old man’s life and gave him a new purpose.”
“Of course, dad. That’s what it means to be a family.”
Cap
The after-hours gym was almost silent—just the occasional metallic groan of a machine cooling down and the distant hum of the rooftop ventilation. Marco liked it that way. Nobody watching him, nobody judging his awkward form or his soft, bookish body. Just him, headphones, and a playlist of sad queer indie musicians singing about longing.
He moved through the locker room barefoot, towel around his waist, hair damp. It smelled of detergent, iron, and other people’s decisions. His shift at the lounge had run late; he only managed a half-hearted workout. Chest press, tricep pushdown, treadmill. Enough to pretend he was improving. Enough to make him feel he wasn’t slipping.
He opened his locker—and then he saw it.
A baseball cap sat on the bench beside him. Navy blue. Sweat-salted in a ring around the brim. Stitched lettering:
B R O T H R O N E
He almost laughed. It was exactly the sort of thing the loud guys in the free-weights section would wear while recording each other doing bicep curls and shouting about grindset mindset and creatine loads.
But his laugh didn’t quite make it out of his chest.
Instead, he stared.
Something about the cap felt… warm. Like someone had just taken it off. The air around it was saturated with the sharp smell of pre-workout, synthetic citrus and ammonia, something electric—like a storm trapped in fabric.
He knew he should turn away, leave it there for lost-and-found.
Instead, a quiet, miserable thought crawled out of him:
Normal guys wear things like that.
Not the ones who spent their birthdays alone. Not the ones who froze when someone at the bar called them pretty. Not the ones who still flinched at the word faggot even after pretending for a decade that it didn’t sink into bone.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he lifted it.
The fabric twitched.
No—no, that was just his imagination.
But the moment his fingers brushed it, his blood surged. His pulse climbed, thudding through him like some distant nightclub bassline. The cap felt alive in his hand, thirsty.
Marco swallowed.
It shouldn’t matter. It was just a hat.
He brought it closer—slow, hesitant—and slid it onto his head.
For a moment, nothing.
Then—
A tightness wormed through his forearms. The veins beneath his skin thickened, rising like cords. They pulsed, hungry, as if pumping not blood, but pressure. His breath hitched. He grabbed the bench, knuckles whitening.
“W-what… the… hell…”
His heartbeat slammed against his ribs, faster than any workout should have left him. His temples pounded, a rhythm harsh and mechanical, nothing like his music—more like a pulsing club remix he’d never choose, too aggressive, too straight, too… normal.
He ripped the cap off.
The throbbing eased—but did not disappear.
His veins still stood out, thick ropes coiling under the skin, as if remembering.
Marco stared at his reflection in the metal of the locker door. His arms looked subtly changed—warmer, harder, the way bodies look under camera lights on gym TikTok accounts. He rubbed at the skin and flinched as another pulse shuddered through the bulging veins.
He should leave the cap. Drop it. Run.
Instead, he found himself whispering, barely sound:
“…please don’t make me weird anymore.”
The cap lay on the bench. Waiting.
Marco didn’t sleep.
He tried. Sheets twisted around his legs, a fan hummed, the glow of his phone lit the room in pale blocks of blue. But every time he closed his eyes, he felt it:
thump. A hot, greedy surge through the veins of his forearms.
thump. A pulse deep in his neck, like invisible fingers pressing from the inside.
thump–thump. Lower—down his stomach, down into the meat of him.
It felt obscene, the way his own blood moved. Like it wasn’t just circulating, but searching for new territory to conquer.
He threw the blanket off. Sweat clung to him—thicker than usual, tacky, sour, the smell of cheap pre-workout and unwashed locker rooms. It embarrassed him, rank and animal. He was used to smelling like limes, gin, and the old piano wood of the lounge. Now he smelled like… like the kind of guy who blasted EDM in a car with too-bright LED lights.
“Fuck,” he muttered, voice hoarse, unfamiliar. “It’s just a hat. Get a grip.”
The cap sat on his dresser where he’d dropped it.
Or—no.
Had he dropped it there? He didn’t remember putting it so close.
Sweat rolled down his ribs. His reflection in the window looked wrong. The veins along his arms bulged thicker, pressing up like roots. He flexed his hand without meaning to, and the tendons popped like he’d wrapped his fist around something he was desperate to hurt.
His stomach clenched, a slick, ugly sensation rising in him—a craving he had no language for. Not hunger. Not arousal. Something like the need to dominate space, to invade it.
He hated it.
Hated that a part of him liked it.
He grabbed the sink and stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. His pupils were slightly blown. His lips looked swollen, bitten red, like he’d chewed them out of anxious habit. His jaw ached as if he’d been grinding his teeth.
Then he noticed the worst part:
He looked… less soft.
Not muscular, not yet, but the curve around his arms had changed. A subtle thickening. A crude promise.
“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no. I’m not— I don’t want to be some—”
He couldn’t finish the sentence, even in his own mind.
Some normal man. Some basic, meat-brained, bar-puking, vape-huffing, girl-commenting—
He felt the shame hit him like a slap. Shame for thinking it. Shame for wanting to look like them. Shame for wanting their power.
His cock twitched.
Not out of lust—no. Out of humiliation.
He groaned, furious, disgusted with himself. “I’m not like that, I’m not—”
The cap was suddenly in his hand.
He didn’t remember crossing the room.
He didn’t remember picking it up.
It was warm again. The fabric pulsed, faint but undeniable, like the throat of some small animal breathing against his palm.
Marco’s breath broke.
“N-no. I don’t want this. I’m not—”
But the cap answered with a pulse that shot up his arm, a hot wire into his chest:
You do. You’ve always wanted to fit in. To stop being strange. Small. Other. Let me help.
Marco’s knees nearly buckled.
He tried to throw it.
His fingers didn’t listen.
The brim brushed his forehead.
And then it was on.
A violent shock tore through him—white, blinding heat—as the veins in his arms surged, ropes swelling, thick as cords, crawling higher toward his shoulders, hungry.
Marco screamed through clenched teeth.
“Get it off—get it off!”
His voice came out deeper. Rougher. Like gravel and cheap vodka. Like the kind of man he used to avoid at clubs because they’d sneer at him. Grab at him.
His heart hammered to a new tempo—boom-boom, boom-boom—a beat that wasn’t his. Something industrial, brutal, something that belonged in a nightclub bathroom where strangers snort lines off filthy counters and call it bonding.
The cap tightened, fabric contracting around his skull as if rooting into him.
He slammed his fist against the wall and heard plaster crack.
He stared, horrified, at his own hand. A hand that shouldn’t be strong enough to do that.
The cap pulsed again.
And Marco felt something inside him eroding—not instantly, but like sand giving way under a rising tide.
His voice, weak now:
“…please don’t make me normal.”
The hat only throbbed harder.
He comes to in darkness—no, not darkness, but bass. The walls around him throb like ventricles, pumping nightclub blood through the house. A party is happening, or has always been happening, and someone is screaming “chug, chug, chug!” The voice is hoarse, feral, victorious.
It takes a moment before he realizes it’s his.
His mouth tastes like cheap vodka and sour artificial energy drink, as if someone had rinsed his soul with club-floor runoff. His tongue feels thick and disobedient when he tries to swallow the name Marco. The syllables scrape his throat like rust.
The baseball cap is still on his head—the cap—fused to his scalp like a living thing, translating music into heat that seeps into his skull. He staggers through a hallway sticky from spilled liquor, figures grinding against each other in the fog of vape clouds and sweat. Someone blows a plume of fruit-scented vapor into his face. His lungs cough on instinct, but another part of him inhales it like oxygen.
The cap loves this air.
A cracked mirror between DJ posters and protein brand decals catches his reflection, and the shock is immediate:
Not Marco.
Not the sweet, artsy bartender from the queer piano lounge. Not the man who made lavender syrup by hand and doodled song lyrics on napkins during slow shifts.
The reflection staring back at him is younger, maybe twenty, with a tan that looks sprayed rather than earned, a jaw squared into cartoonish definition, lips cracked from dehydration and vodka shots. A chain hangs around his neck like a leash he begged for.
And beneath his skin, his veins move—not like vessels, but like ropes, thick cords pumping something hotter than blood. Something greedy.
When he breathes, he smells himself: sweat, vape clouds, vodka evaporating through pores, detergent that never quite purged the nightclub stink from his clothes.
Then, the thought comes—not his thought, but fluent in his mind:
Jax.
The name fits. It locks into place. He doesn’t resist.
Someone slams a bottle into his hand. Vodka. He never liked vodka—not Marco. Marco loved amaretto, espresso martinis, delicate flavors.
But he drinks—long and deep—until the bottle empties and the room erupts in cheers.
Later—minutes or hours blurred—he is at a gym that reeks of disinfectant, rubber, and testosterone leaking out of bruised egos. His phone is propped against a dumbbell plate. He doesn’t remember placing it there. He doesn’t remember hitting record.
But the screen shows him: shirtless, drenched in sweat, veins writhing under his skin like parasites.
His voice—too confident, too loud—snarls at the camera:
“Listen up, weaklings. The world’s full of dudes whining instead of grinding. You want respect? Earn it in the iron temple. Women want a king, not some emotional support pet. If you’re not lifting, you're losing. Real talk.”
He winks. Grabs his crotch. Smirks with dead-eyed certainty.
The video ends. He has no memory of saying any of it.
He checks his profile—the video is already posted. Already climbing in views. Comments calling him “based,” “savage,” “alpha,” crowned with fire emojis.
The cap tightens, feeding heat into his skull, dissolving memories like sugar into liquor. His old life melts—art, music, soft laughter, self-doubt. Gone faster with each shot, each vape hit, each thrust of ego-laced digital clout.
Marco isn’t fading anymore. Marco is absent.
Scrolling through his feed, he sees a new history: gym clips, bottle-chugging dares, club bathroom mirror selfies, girls kissing his neck, rants about dominance and grindset and earning pleasure.
He doesn’t remember filming any of it.
In the mirror, his grin spreads—wide, sharp, predatory. He inhales, chest swelling, veins coiling under his skin like living wire.
And with a voice that will never again form the name he was born with, he declares:
“Name’s Jax.”
The cap relaxes against his scalp. And no one—not even he—knows that it is the cap wearing him now.
Goodbye, Dad
Jake’s dad, Robert, has always wanted to give his son everything he wanted in life. Being a single father has been tough on him, and he really has done his best to make Jake happy, but there’s one thing he can’t give his son…his body.
Jake was a lean, pencil-thin teenager, and barely 5′6″. To put things bluntly, the poor boy was crippled by low self-esteem because of his small size. He had a comfortable life, but all he wanted was to look more like his dad.
“You just need to wait for your growth spurt,” Robert reassured his boy, doubting it would ever come since he had already been a stud in the making when he was Jake’s age. But he stayed positive for his son and hoped that Jake would learn to love himself the way he was.
“I don’t wanna wait for something that might never even come!” Jake lashed out before storming to his room and slamming the door.
“He needs some space,” Robert said quietly before sighing and going to his own room.
Robert got down to just his boxers and looked at the body that he had been gifted with through the genetic lottery. Sure, he worked hard to maintain his physique, but his genetic blueprint was an ideal foundation to build from.
“This shouldn’t be a make or break for anyone’s happiness…” Robert mumbled before crawling into bed. He hoped more than anything that Jake could find happiness within himself.
Meanwhile Jake was in his room crushing various herbs and strange substances.
“If I can’t look more like you, then I’ll just have to BE you,” Jake assured himself as he read from a page he had torn out of a book at that weird occult bookstore.
The ingredients for this potion were surprisingly common, but the page claimed that precise measurements and mixing would help “release the spirit.”
“Goodbye, Dad,” Jake said before devouring his finished concoction.
He laid down in bed and closed his eyes and did the deep breathing exercises on the occult page. Minutes passed without any noticeable difference other than an herbal aftertaste in his mouth, but as time continued to pass, Jake found himself feeling lighter and lighter–almost like he was becoming disconnected from reality.
Jake opened his eyes and was amazed to see the last of his spiritual form leaving his teen body. His body wouldn’t survive long without his spirit inside, but he didn’t care. This was a one-trip for Jake.
Satisfied, Jake let himself sink through the floor. He had to go through another wall, but soon he found himself hovering over his Dad’s sculpted and muscular body. Jake wanted nothing more than to feel the confidence and power of being a stud like his dad–no–to feel the confidence and power of being the stud known as his dad. He had no second thoughts and no regrets as he dove right at his father’s rippled abs.
“Huh?!!!!!” Robert gasped as he was shocked awake.
Something had slammed him hard in the stomach–no something was still pushing so hard against him.
“WHat the–OH FUCK!” Robert yelled out as he felt some invisible force flooding into his body, filling his body past capacity.
“Aggggghhhhhhhhh uuunnngggggggggggg” Robert helplessly groaned as he thrashed in bed, gripping the sheets and gritting his teeth as he tried to roll off the bed–but the force pinning him down was too strong. He was stuck there as the energy continued to flood into him.
Robert moaned helplessly as it got harder and harder to control his movements. A wet, cold sensation spread from his abs down his thighs, up his pecs and worked all the way down to his toes, out to his fingers, and agonizingly, into his thick and erect cock. It wasn’t long until the sensation crept up his neck and he squinted his eyes shut tight as his back arched so he was clear off the bed. Every muscle in Robert’s body seized at once, and then with one last guttural grunt Robert felt a sensation like he had been shot out of a cannon.
Robert was stunned and in shock as he regained his senses, only now he was floating above his own body. He watched his own eyes open and then a mischevious smirk crossed his body’s lips.
“Oh fuuuuuuccccckkkkk yeah,” he heard his voice say as he watched his body’s hands rub up his torso.
“Oh yeah, call me Daddy,” his body moaned as Robert helplessly watched his own fingers caress and squeeze his nipples.
“Looks like I’m a stud like you after all,” he heard his body gloat with a chuckle.
“JAKE! That little shit!” Robert yelled in his spiritual form before diving back to reclaim his body.
To his dismay, there was a brief flash of light and then he was deflected right off his own body.
“Don’t even waste your energy, Dad,” Jake said, enjoying the smooth and deep voice leaving his mouth. “This was a one-way trip. My body’s upstairs–If you don’t make yourself at home in that pipsqueak body then I’m pretty sure you’ll just be stuck haunting this house until the end of time.
Robert roared in rage as he lunged at his body over and over again, getting hurled away each time and doing nothing more than tickling Jake in the process. His pleas and threats could not even be heard–the only evidence he was even present was the flash and sensation when he got deflected from his own body.
“Ohhhhhh yeah, Dad, that’s starting to feel kinda good,” Jake moaned as his father’s spirit deflected off him again. His new cock was gently pulsating inside those boxers, and as Robert watched his son reach into the waistband he realized he couldn’t take it anymore.
Robert floated up to his son’s room and saw Jake’s vacant body.
Not having any other option at the moment, he realized that having a body would be better than being stuck as a trapped spirit.
He begrudgingly started floating to Jake’s body, but then to his horror he saw the spirit of an overweight elderly man dive right Jake’s empty form.
“NOOOOO!!!!”Robert screamed as he dove at his son’s body, only to find himself repelled just like he was with his body.
Jake’s eyes fluttered open before grinning with a look of profound relief.
“Tough break,” Jake’s voice said, now controlled by the spirit of the elderly man.
“I was stuck here for decades, just watching family after family live in this home. Not that it matters to you, but I died alone and unhappy. I spent my whole life in the closet, and my last thought as a living person was that if I had the chance to be a cute little twink, I’d do everything differently. Looks like it was worth the wait,” Jake’s body said as he bit his lip and rubbed his thin and young body adoringly. “My name was Hugh in my last life, but I definitely prefer your son’s name. That’s right, I’m Jake now…” he said with satisfaction.
Hugh proudly walked his new body down the stairs before encountering a mirror and basking at his new chance at life. He had managed to keep up with the times by observing the evolution of technology through the inhabitants of the house, but he still got a giddy excitement as he pulled a strange device out of his pocket and unlocked it with his new fingerprint. He knew where the camera button was because he had watched Jake and Robert use the function countless times. Still, he was in awe as he clicked the button and snapped the first picture of his new body.
“Wait a second…” he said playfully before yanking his shirt off and taking another picture.
“I don’t know why you were so self-conscious Jake. Your body is fucking cute! Not complaining though…” Hugh said, still enjoying the teen voice leaving his mouth.
Hugh tucked the phone away. He planned on exploring the device in full later on, but in that moment he wanted to get acquainted with his new “Daddy.” His teen cock pulsated a bit just thinking about that.
Hugh walked in on Jake, still embracing and caressing his new, mature, stud body.
“Well, well, well, looks like you took that pipsqueak body after all.”
“You didn’t leave too many options,” Hugh replied, doing his best to act as if he were Robert inside Jake’s body.
“So what do you want anyway? Because this is my body now. Nothing can reverse it,” Jake gloated.
“No. No hard feelings,” Hugh said as he walked closer to Jake. “In fact, I’m glad you did what you did,” he cooed as he crawled onto the bed.
“Dad?” Jake asked, a little confused by how okay with this his Dad seemed.
“No, you’re my daddy now. Do you want your son to make you feel good?”
“Dad, what are you-Ohhhhhh ffuuuuuuucccccccckkkk” Jake moaned as his former body freed his new fatherly dick from his boxers and that hard cock in his mouth.
Robert’s spirit watched in horror.
“That’s not me!!!!! That’s some old gay pervert!!!!!! STOP!!! JUST FUCKING STOP!” the fatherly spirit begged, but he could not be heard anymore. He could only continue to watch, paralyzed in dread. Jake thought his own father was sucking him off!
Jake was smiling from ear to ear as he used his dad’s strong arms to guide his former mouth lower and lower.
Hugh eagerly swallowed that cock deeper and deeper until he had taken all 8 inches and had his lips firmly pressed against neatly trimmed pubes. He was in heaven–in control of a teen twink, his new father’s cock down his throat, and his stud father’s manly scent filling his nostrils.
Jake shivered as Hugh came up for air.
“Shit, Dad that felt so good!”
“You’re my dad now,” Hugh reminded Jake. “I’m your son now, and I wanna make you feel good.”
“Oh fuck yeah,” Jake said gruffly as he pulled his former body on top of his muscular and hairy torso.
He embraced his new role and hugged his son tight against his body before looking into his old eyes and leaning in to meet lips.
Hugh shivered in enjoyment as he felt the thick, trimmed beard of his new Daddy rubbing his smooth face. He opened his youthful mouth and let his Daddy’s tongue in. The moaned into each other’s mouths as they explored each other’s mouths with their tongues.
Robert was horrified as he witnessed his own body passionately making out with the body of his own son. But just when he didn’t think things could get any worse, he watched Jake roll them over so Hugh was on his back.
“Spread your legs, son,” Jake said forcefully.
“Yes, Daddy,” Hugh replied as he kicked off his shorts and spread his twink legs wide.
Jake was over the moon as he found his Dad’s lube and began getting his new cock nice and slick. He was ready to fuck his old body. No–he was ready to fuck his son. Because he was the man now. He was the stud with the powerful body he had always wanted. He couldn’t control himself as he pushed his new massive cockhead against his old body’s virgin hole.
Hugh gasped as he felt his Daddy’s dick stretching him wide. He squirmed and groaned, but he looked up and saw the look of focus on his Daddy’s face. Hugh took a deep breath and relaxed, groaning as Jake pushed his father’s cock deeper and deeper into his former, teen hole.
“mmmmmmm you’re so tight, boy!” Jake moaned as he got his meaty cock halfway in his son. That turned him on so much looking at his old self, but knowing that the shrimpy twink he used to be was his son now. And he didn’t know if his dad had been brainwashed by the magic or if his dad was just really being so kinky, but he didn’t care. He was already loving his new life. Hugh was thinking the same thing as he felt fuller and fuller of thick, Daddy cock. He had been worried that Jake would immediately know something was wrong, but it was so erotic in Hugh’s opinion that Jake thought his own father was being a whore in that teen body. Hugh knew that Robert was probably in the room with them. That made him even harder.
“Fuck yeah! Fill me up, Daddy! Fuck my hole good! AGgggghhhhhhhhnnnnngggggggg Fuck yeah!” Hugh hollered out as the last inch of that Daddy cock was stuffed inside him.
Jake shivered and collapsed forward onto his old body, groaning as he adjusted to the feeling of his own father’s cock stuffed completely inside his old body’s hole.
Jake gasped for breath before forcing his mouth onto his son’s and pulling his hips back.
They both moaned into each other’s mouths as Jake thrust back in, and that repeated again, and again, except Jake started thrusting faster and harder until Hugh was basically just emitting a constant moan with his teen voice.
Hugh was literally overwhelmed by pleasure as his Daddy’s dick pistoned in and out of him at an almost inhuman speed and power. He pulled his Daddy close to him so he could feel friction with each thrust as that chest hair rubbed against his smooth body. He loved feeling overwhelmed by a larger and more powerful man. The opposite was true for Jake. He was finally the stud he always wanted to be. He never felt more confident than he did in that moment as he used his powerful abs, hips, thighs, and arms to give each thrust as much power as he could. He reveled in his control as his father’s sweat dripped onto his old body. No–it was his sweat. There was no going back now–he would forever be known to the world as Robert. And he would always adore and care for his twink son, Jake.
“Ohhhhhh Jake!!! Son!!! I’m so fucking close!” the new Robert grunted as he felt his big balls contract and pulsate.
Hugh accepted his new identity in that moment too. He was Jake now, and for as long as he could keep the act up, he would pretend to be the spirit of the true Robert. But in that moment he only had one thing to say, “Fucking cum inside me Daddy!”
The new Robert growled as he rolled them over, still fully inside his boy. The new Jake was on top and ready to ride his Daddy, but Robert surprised his boy by quickly leaning up and hugging his boy tight. Robert roared as he thrashed his cock up into his boy. Jake was practically seeing stars as he hugged his Dad tight and used his leg strength to slam himself down onto his dad’s throbbing cock. Then he felt those strong hands wrap around him. Robert gripped his boy for maximum leverage and used his full strength to pull his son as tight and close as possible with each thrust.
Jake’s teen body couldn’t take it anymore, and without even touching his twink dick he hollered out in his soft, adolescent voice as his throbbing teen boner launched his cum all over his dad’s sweaty, hairy, and ripped torso.
Robert winced as he felt his boy’s hole contracting tightly with each new shot of cum that sprayed his chest. It finally took him to his limit.
“FUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKK YEEEEAAAHHHH SON!” he roared before forcing their mouths together again as he pulled them together tighter than ever and thrust his seed deep inside his boy. Shot after shot filled Jake’s hole until he just couldn’t contain any more of his dad’s load. With each new thrust, cum started leaking out of his hole until Robert pulled Jake tight against one final thrust. He held them together like that for several minutes, embraced and passionately kissing as they enjoyed their afterglow, fatherly cock still buried in son’s hole.
This was a fate worse than death for the spirit of the true Robert, but even he had to admit he had never seen his son happier than he was now that he had claimed Robert’s body and life as his own.
A Haunting at The Campus Library
Here's another story part of "A Haunting" series for Halloween. A bit longer than the previous ones. Have another two planned I think. Hope you enjoy!
It was another boring night in the campus library. I was just chillin', haunting the stacks like usual. And then I saw him. Again. I'd seen this kid a few times now. Always studying, focused. Always looks so fuckin' miserable. But he's cute, in an adorable dweeb sort of way. Shaggy hair, scrawny, glasses sliding down his nose. I almost feel bad for the kid. Almost.
I sit down next to him. "Yo dude, what's up?" I asked, trying to sound casual. He jumped a mile high and stared at me wide-eyed.
"H-hello?" he stammered out. "Who? What are you?"
"Relax bro," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "Name's Tyler. Tyler Johnson. Well, used to be anyway. Now I'm just a ghost. Ain't it obvious, bro?" I looked him over again, taking in his nervous demeanor. "So, you're Andrew right? What're you doing holed up in this dusty old library every night?"
"Oh um, well I don't have many friends so…this is kind of my only place to study."
"Aww man, that's rough," I said sympathetically. "Well hey, I'm down to hang? I don't got too many friends here either."
"Y-you mean it?" he asked hesitantly. "You'd want to hang out with me?"
"Sure thing bro!" I replied enthusiastically. "Why not? We're both loners here. Might as well stick together, ya know?"
He smiled shyly and nodded. "That would be great actually…"
"Awesome! So tell me more about yourself Andrew. What's your deal?" I asked, leaning back casually against the bookshelf.
I listened as he talked about his career goals. Some bullshit about science and medicine and grad school. I just nodded along, offering whatever encouragement I could.
"Bro, you're like really fuckin' impressive."
"Oh… thanks Tyler. But I'm not that impressive." He looked sad, doubtful, "What about you?"
I laughed ruefully. "Eh, I had my moments. Was a star quarterback back in my day. Had dreams of going pro. But then…" I gestured vaguely at myself. "…this happened. Bitch move by the universe, amirite?" He went to say something, probably to pity me, but I cut him off, "Let's circle back, bro. You're seriously lacking some confidence. 'Not that impressive'? Really bro?"
Andrew blinked owlishly behind his glasses. "W-well I suppose I'm alright at science and math, but that's about it. I'm not very good at anything else..."
"Psshh, dude I can help you with that." I smirked, "Can be like your bro coach or somethin'. How's that sound?"
He perked up immediately, a smile spreading across his face. "Really? That could be nice."
"Hell yeah bro!" I grinned back. "Just leave it to ol' Tyler."
------
Over the next week, I put my plan into action. Subtle things at first - whispering suggestions to hit the gym as he walked between classes. Buy some protein shakes. Nothing too overt, just little nudges in the right direction.
To my delight, Andrew started responding to the hints. I'd see him guzzling down shakes after class and studying on the elliptical. His posture improved, shoulders back, chin up. A new swagger to his step. Even caught him taking a progress pic.
One evening, I found him at the library again, looking energized. "Hey bro!" I greeted. "How's it hanging? You're looking pumped!"
He flexed experimentally. "I dunno, I guess I am feeling stronger lately." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Although, I did miss a lab report deadline yesterday. My grades are starting to slip a bit too." Guess I've been spending so much time at the gym, I haven't studied enough."
I waved off his concerns. "Nah bro, that's normal when you start a new routine. It'll get better."
Andrew hesitated. "Are you sure? I really want to do well in school…"
"Absolutely bro!" I assured him.
He considered this for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Okay…if you say so Tyler. I trust you."
-------
I decided to kick it up a notch. Appearing in his room while he slept, I'd gently influence his dreams. In dream-visions, he saw himself as a strapping quarterback. Calling plays. Tossing touchdown passes. Adoring fans chanting his name. He reveled in that fantasy life while asleep. And when he awoke? He'd go to the gym- weight lifting replacing cardio. He'd be more assertive too. But none of it was permanent yet. I didn't dare rush things. I could still see his uncertainty. Even a little bit of fear as he looked at his improved physique in the mirror.
"Hey Tyler," Andrew greeted me nervously as he approached my usual haunt near the periodicals section. "Do you have a minute?"
"For you bro? Always!" I grinned, sensing his unease.
"Thanks. I uh, I wanted to talk to you about some weird stuff happening lately…" He trailed off uncertainly. "Like these vivid dreams I keep having. About playing football. It doesn't make sense..."
I kept my expression neutral. "Oh yeah? That's wild bro. Just dreams though, right?"
He shook his head. "No, they feel so real. Like I'm living someone else's life. And then I wake up feeling different. More confident. Wanting to work out more. It's strange…"
I shrugged nonchalantly. "Sounds like your subconscious is just exploring new possibilities, bro. No need to stress about it."
He managed a weak smile. "Right. Thanks Tyler. I appreciate your advice."
"No prob bro! I'm always here if you need me." I gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze. "Now why don't you hit the books for a bit?"
As he walked away, I watched him thoughtfully. The kid was definitely changing, but he wasn't fully on board yet. Time to kick things up a notch…
-------
Days turned into weeks. I pulled back on the haunting, letting Andrew struggle on his own. Sure, his grades improved. But, he stopped going to the gym as regularly. That newfound confidence drained away. He looked haggard, exhausted. Exactly as planned.
Finally, he came to me again, desperation written all over his face. "Tyler, something's wrong. Everything I worked for is falling apart. I feel lost…"
I gave him a sympathetic look. "Fuck bro... I mean, I might have a solution."
His eyes lit up hopefully. "You do? What is it?"
I stepped closer, looming over him. "Let me in, bro."
Andrew recoiled slightly. "Wh-what do you mean?"
"Let me take control for a while. Get you back on track." My eyes gleamed eagerly.
"You mean like, share my body?" He sounded wary.
"That's right. Just for a bit." I said smoothly, "To get you back to where you were before you started regressing."
He wavered, "I don't know…"
"C'mon bro, what's the harm?" I pushed.
He considered it, "Okay, okay… but only to get me back where I was. I don't want to…"
"Of course bro, whatever you want." I lied easily. "Trust me, this'll fix everything."
He took a deep breath. "Alright Tyler. I trust you."
My spirit surged into Andrew's body, filling every inch of him. It felt incredible. His mind resisted at first, but I overwhelmed his consciousness effortlessly. I opened his eyes, stretched his limbs. Felt his pulse racing beneath my skin. This was better than I ever imagined! I strode purposefully towards the gym, relishing the weight of Andrew's muscles. Time to get this bro back in shape. And then some…
-----
For three glorious days, I lived as Andrew. Lifted heavier. Ran faster. Jumped higher. By the third morning, his chest bulged outward. Abs popped. Ass filled out and tightened. Hell, I might've been enjoying it a lil too much…
But my power started fading fast. I was sent back into the ethereal realm, weaker than before. Exhausted but satisfied by my handiwork nonetheless. Andrew woke up changed, but confused. No longer needing those pesky specs. Vision crystal clear, sharp as an eagle's. Looked in the mirror - damn, was that still his reflection? The jawline. The arch of the brow. All the handsome features of yours truly.
I watched as Andrew flexed in disbelief, arm shaking slightly with exhaustion and awe as his bicep rose. He should've been fuckin' grateful. But his face cycled through expressions - shock giving way to lingering terror.
The poor dweeb looked shellshocked. Drowning in newfound masculine intensity that he couldn't understand or control. And let's just say that new body of his was… hungry for more.
-----
I hung back, regaining my energy, spectating as Andrew tried to return to his old ways. Watched him trudge to class, shoulders hunched against the weight of his new self. Noticed how his eyes lingered longingly on the path to the gym. How he squirmed in his seat, muscles twitching, screaming for release.
Poor bastard had no idea what I'd set in motion. That primal urge to pump iron, to test limits, to dominate. It was in his blood now. I could practically smell the testosterone radiating off him. He lasted three days tops before he started skipping lectures and blowing off study groups to spend time in the gym. Would marvel at his physique in the mirror, getting drunk off his own musk. Would've been sexier if he didn't look horrified the whole time. But that would change.
I crept into Andrew's dorm room, loomed over his slumbering form. Leaned down real close, lips brushing his ear.
"You got this bro," I whispered huskily. "Apply for the football team tomorrow. It's your destiny. Just follow your gut, ya feel me?"
He stirred, murmuring in his sleep. Hands clenched, flexed. Legs shifting restlessly under the sheets like he was already out on the field. Next mornin', wouldn't you know it - I float over to practice to find my protege out there throwing spirals like a pro. Coaches gawking in amazement at this total newbie absolutely schooling their veterans. Showing off his talent. My talent.
--------
I was chilling in my usual spot, haunting the library stacks, when I heard that familiar shuffling approach. Turned to see Andrew stalking toward me, fists clenched, a determination I'd never seen before on the lil dweeb. Holy hell, I had done good with this kid.
"There you are, dude," he growled, "We need to talk, bro."
I smirked, leaning back casually. "Shoot, man. Whatcha got?"
Andrew jabbed a finger at me accusingly. "This, dude. These…gains. The constant craving to train. And now, I'm failing chemistry! What gives, brah?"
I held up my hands innocently. "Whoa there, bro. Slow down."
"Even my face, man!" He pointed to his reflection in a window. "Look at me. I look more like you now!"
I barked out a laugh. "Dude, that's a compliment! I'm a stud, ain't I?"
"This isn't funny, bro. I didn't ask for all this." He put his head in his hands, "Enough Tyler. I'm done." And he stormed off.
-------
The next day, I tried to pay my favorite human a visit, but I couldn't even get within 10 feet of his dorm room without getting zapped by some invisible barrier. What the fuck, right? Then I spotted it - some creepy old necklace dangling around his neck. Warding symbol carved into the pendant. The sneaky little nerd had gone and researched spirit repellents! I was impressed, honestly. Kid was smart. But also, super annoying.
I waited patiently as the days ticked by, watching Andrew start to get his shit together. Doing better in class and worse on the field. If this kept up... well fuck... I knew I needed to strike when the iron was hot.
And wouldja look at that, luck was on my side. During a particularly brutal tackle drill, Andrew took a hit so hard, the warding necklace went flying clean off. Landed in the grass a few yards away, useless now. And Andrew didn't even give it a second fucking thought. Just went to the locker room to shower off. He hadn't noticed me when I slipped into the stall with him, too busy rinsing sweat and grass stains from his rock-hard physique. I reached out, trailing fingers along his spine, savoring the way his muscles twitched at my touch.
Andrew froze, goosebumps erupting across his skin. I pressed myself against him, palming his chiseled ass. He gasped sharply, cock twitching to attention. My hands roamed his slick body greedily, mapping every ridge and valley. Teasing along his inner thighs, ghosting over his heavy balls. He shuddered, head lolling back as he grasped his own cock, moaning brokenly, hips rocking into his own grip.
"Ahhh…f-fuck…" he panted, chest heaving. "What's happening to me? Why am I so…horny?"
His eyes squeezed shut, lost in a haze of lust. Completely unaware of my presence, too far gone to question the impossible sensations overwhelming him. The new Andrew, still more brawn over brains, succumbed so easily to base instinct. Testosterone-addled and desperate for more stimulation. And I was more than happy to give it. My hands slid around to his front, one wrapping around his throbbing erection while the other tweaked a nipple. Andrew cried out, seeing stars, hips bucking frantically into my phantom grip. So responsive, so desperate for my touch. The perfect plaything. Barely registering the changes my ghostly hands wrought on his trembling horny form. Too caught up in his own lust to care.
And with a final strangled groan, Andrew's cock pulsed and throbbed in my grasp as he came, splattering the shower wall. His knees buckled, the force of his climax nearly bringing him to the ground. Panting heavily, eyes glazed and unfocused, the kid looked half-dead, mind shattered by the intensity. I had reduced him to a brainless sack of meat and hormones. Perfect. On rubbery legs, Andrew staggered out of the shower, still processing the mind-blowing orgasm. He stumbled into the locker room, brain addled, a fucked-stupid grin plastered on his face. Collapsing onto a bench, he gazed up at his reflection in the mirror. And froze.
"Wh-what the actual fuck?" Andrew choked out, staring in abject horror at his own reflection. "No…no way. Oh God, no…"
There, staring back at him, was an exact carbon copy of me. In all my glory. Same chiseled jaw, same piercing eyes, same sexy smirk, same muscular physique. Fuck he even smelled like me now. Only this version was very much alive and breathing. Andrew scrambled to his feet, patting himself down frantically.
"Where is it? Where's the pendant? I need…" He was babbling now, mind reeling, trying desperately to make sense of the impossible sight before him.
But in his weakened, post-orgasmic state, he couldn't think straight. Could barely string two thoughts together. And that's when I struck. I seized control of Andrew's body, effortlessly overriding his feeble attempts at resistance. He was too far gone, too fucked-out to mount any meaningful defense. I felt his mind crumble away, surrendering to my will as I slipped into the driver's seat once more. And this time, I wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.
And since that day? Months have flown by- months since I claimed Andrew's body as my own- remade him in all my glory. And let me tell you, being alive again feels fan-fucking-tastic. I mean, sure, there's a part of me that knows I basically kidnapped this poor schmuck's life. Trapped his consciousness in the backseat of his own skull while I play out my wildest fantasies. But hey, at least I'm generous enough to let him experience alllll the perks, right?
Every earth-shattering orgasm, every euphoric muscle burn, every adoring gaze thrown our way- I make damn sure Andrew gets to feel it all. Front row seat to the Tyler Johnson experience, baby! Who wouldn't kill for that opportunity? Ain't that right, Andrew? Besides, the dork was wasting his potential before. I'm doing him a favor, really. Turning him into a god among men. Yeah, he might not be the one pulling the strings anymore, but he's along for the ride of a lifetime! And hey, if he's gotta be stuck in there, might as well enjoy the show. Because it ain't ending anytime soon.
(via dadnotize, dadnotize, ricci999)
Aiden had this routine down to a science: He would put the blowjob mouth guard in his mouth, meditate, and astral project. Then he would possess his brother Jake’s body, go to his own room, and fuck his passed out body’s mouth with Jake’s dick. It was a way to get his brother off and when he returned to his body he always had the best jerk off session with the taste of Jake’s load in his mouth. It was a win win as far as Aiden thought.
But this time, as Aiden got close to climaxing into his own throat, something in his usual routine went awry. Jake fought to gain back control of his body. Aiden was back in his own body, with Jake’s dick going down his throat and slobber falling down his mouth. He tried to pull back and get his brother’s cock out of his throat, fearing his brother’s retribution, but Jake grabbed his head and forced it back down saying,
“I don’t know how you’ve been doing that, but I’ve been awake in my head the last few times. From now on you’re gonna take my load while I’m in control. And you’re gonna teach me how to do that possession thing so that I can possess dad and make you suck his loads out too. I’m gonna cum in your mouth with two different bodies a day. Good thing you love dick Aiden. Ahhh. Good boy, suck that load out.”
(via kylecrusoe)
(via swapsrus)
“Slime-possessed cock got me bustin’ softly and efficiently,” I read my drafted caption out-loud. I hummed, deep in thought before handing my phone over to my slime-possessed neighbor. “Do you think it’s funny? Think it’ll get me lots of likes and reblogs?”
My slime-possessed neighbor, still sweaty after the slime slithered into his cock, took my phone in his hands and stared at it, brow furrowed in concentration.
Eventually, he looked up at me and blankly said, “I don’t know. I don’t know what these words mean.” And after chucking my phone over his shoulder, he went back to stripping and exploring his new body.
~o~
Happy April’s Fools!
Link to original joke
Beneath Their Feet
The football bus was filled with the kind of energy you’d expect after a big game they had won—sweaty, cocky footballers sprawled out, joking around, and teasing each other. Their musky scent was everywhere, a mix of sweat and testosterone. They were so lost in messing around that none of them noticed their driver slightly convulsing in his seat, his eyes rolling back as the bus stopped at a red light. For a few seconds, his body shook in his seat, stopping just in time for the green light.
His face was completely blank now as he drove the bus. But he didn’t take the usual route this time. Instead, he turned down into a secluded parking lot. This time, the players noticed and started asking questions.
The bus doors hissed open, and that’s when a short, nerdy guy with messy hair and thick glasses stepped onto the bus, clutching a jar filled with what looked like tiny, buzzing insects. The jocks went silent, their laughter replaced by confused stares as the guy stopped, eyeing them all like he was sizing them up.
The bugs in the jar seemed to grow agitated, their wings buzzing furiously inside the glass. He grinned, enjoying the moment as his eyes scanned the sea of muscle and sweat before him. “I think they will do nicely,” he whispered to the bugs, then turned to the driver. “Close the doors now,” he ordered.
The driver obeyed, and as soon as the doors shut, the guy popped the lid open, releasing the creatures.
The buzzing grew louder as the bugs swarmed the bus. The footballers didn’t stand a chance. They swatted at them at first, some even ran towards the closed doors, but the bugs were too fast. One by one, they forced their way into the players’ ears, their needle-like legs digging in, burrowing deep into their brains. The jocks’ eyes rolled back, their hot athletic bodies convulsing and twitching as the aliens took full control. The nerd watched with a large grin as their bodies stiffened, then relaxed, their faces falling into blank, obedient expressions. They sat back in their seats as if nothing had happened.
The nerd spotted two cute jocks sitting in the front seats with their socked feet resting on the empty seats in front of them.
“Like our feet, you perv? Come here and take a taste,” the two jocks said in perfect unison.
He didn’t need to be told twice. He took the seat in front of them and leaned in close. The smell hit him first—sweat, dirt, that raw scent only athletes seemed to have. He licked slowly, his tongue running against their socks, wet with the day's sweat. He savored every second, every musky scent, as the jocks watched, smiling down at him.
He pulled off their socks and then feasted on their soles. He grabbed one foot from each jock and buried his face between them, inhaling deeply and passionately.
He pulled his face away and ordered them to worship each other's feet—and they did, making his cock throb harder under his pants.
But it wasn’t just them. The back of the bus, where the loudest and cockiest jocks usually gathered to mess around, was now full of grinning faces.
“Come lick my soles!” a hot Daddy wearing a Rolex watch called out, lifting his foot toward him.
“No, worship mine! They taste better,” another chimed in, propping his leg up over a seat, his toes wiggling, teasing the stranger.
“Bullshit, I’ve got the dirtiest feet,” a third one added, holding his foot up like it was a trophy—a challenge he knew the guy wouldn’t resist.
The nerd’s head spun with excitement. He crawled between the seats, eyes wide with lust, running his tongue over each jock’s foot that was offered to him. He savored their musk, the sweat, the pure masculinity of it all. The football players, now completely under the aliens' control, practically begged for the gay man's attention, pushing their feet toward his face.
Some even took off their shirts and flexed their bodies in a desperate attempt to have their feet worshiped by the gay stranger. He moved from one to the next, his face buried in their soles, overwhelmed by the strong musk each one had. The smell of their socks and the sound of their laughter as they watched him worship them was too much for him. He pulled down his pants and started using one of the players' feet to jerk himself off.
Before long, at his command, the whole team was naked and fucking each other in a depraved orgy. The nerd licked the jocks' sweaty muscles as they fucked their teammates, he worshiped their jock feet hanging in the air as they were being fucked.
The bus was his playground now, filled with jocks who had been transformed into mindless drones, ready and willing to give him whatever he wanted.
He decided to fuck the hot Daddy while burying his face in his long musky soles.
The nerd just loved taking over an entire bus of jocks—it was his favorite personal sport.
The Frat House: Duke
The rain hammered down on the sidewalk like a thousand tiny fists, each drop echoing its own desperate plea to be heard over the sound of the storm. Alex, drenched and shivering, huddled under the flimsy shelter of his sodden hoodie. The wind whipped through the quiet streets, carrying with it the scent of wet earth and the promise of a long, cold night. He had been out for hours, searching for a place to crash before the weather turned from bad to worse.
Through the fog of the storm, he saw the silhouette of a grand, old building looming in the distance. It was a Tudor-style mansion, a relic of a time when the university had more money than taste. The ivy-covered stones looked almost black under the ominous, bruised sky. He knew the stories about the place, whispers of wild parties and even wilder students who had once called it home. Alpha Sigma Alpha, the frat house of legend, now stood abandoned, a monument to the past.
The house had an eerie beauty about it, with its tall, pointed windows like the eyes of a creature watching over the neighborhood. The shutters were askew, and the ivy had grown thick, obscuring the crumbling brick beneath. The porch, once a place of laughter and camaraderie, now groaned under the weight of neglect. The steps leading up to the front door were cracked and overgrown with weeds that seemed to have taken root in the very essence of decay. The door itself was massive, a heavy slab of oak that looked as if it had not been opened in years. The brass knocker was shaped like a snarling wolf's head, its eyes seeming to follow Alex as he approached.
Despite his trepidation, the storm's ferocity was unrelenting. The thunder rumbled like the growl of an angry beast, and the lightning was a stark reminder of his vulnerability. With each flash, the ivy on the house seemed to writhe, as if alive and eager to pull him into the building's embrace. The wind tugged at his clothes, whispering dark secrets in his ear, urging him closer to the sanctuary that the house offered. He took a deep breath and stepped onto the porch, his heart racing as he reached out to grasp the cold, wet doorknob.
With a grunt, Alex pushed the door open. It creaked like the cry of a long-forgotten soul, revealing the foyer of the mansion. The room was vast, with splintered mahogany paneling that had once gleamed with pride now lying in ruins. The water stains on the ceiling stretched out like the veins of a tired old man, and the chandelier above his head hung precariously, droplets of water plinking into the puddle on the floor below. The scent of mildew and decay was thick, mingling with the faint odor of stale beer and memories of raucous nights. The marble floors beneath his sodden sneakers were cracked and chipped, the insignia of Alpha Sigma Alpha barely visible under the grime and detritus of years gone by.
As the storm's fury grew, a strange gust of wind, musky and potent, like the stench of a long-forgotten locker room, whipped through the house. The door slammed shut behind him with a thud that seemed to resonate through his very bones. The wind had been so forceful it felt almost sentient, as if the house itself were alive and had decided to swallow him whole. Alex's heart skipped a beat as he turned to find the door was now sealed, the wood warped from the moisture, leaving him no option but to push forward. The only light came from the occasional flash of lightning outside, painting the room in stark whites and deep shadows.
With the sound of rain as his only companion, Alex ventured down the long, gloomy corridor. The walls were lined with portraits of past fraternity members, each one seemingly more handsome and athletic than the last. Their eyes followed him, hazed over with age and secrets. The faces of the men from the 1920s were stern and stoic, their expressions etched with the gravity of their times. As he moved through the decades, the styles changed, but the arrogance remained consistent, each man's gaze seemingly challenging him to match their legend.
The corridor grew colder as he approached a portrait that was more vivid than the rest. A man with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes stared back at him, a smug smirk plastered on his lips. He was clad in the university basketball jersey from the 1990s, and his muscular frame completely filled the frame. On either side of him, two equally striking men with dark hair and intense gazes flanked him, their arms draped casually over his shoulders. The air felt particularly heavy around the dusty photograph, and a shiver ran down his spine.
The rusted brass plaque beneath the portrait confirmed his suspicion. It read: "Duke Summers, President of Alpha Sigma Alpha Fraternity, 1997." Duke had been the basketball legend of the university, a name that echoed through the halls of the school even today. His untimely death in a car crash during his senior year had left a dark stain on the frat's reputation, the tale of his drunken end in a blaze of fire inside his Camaro still used to this day to scare freshmen into sobriety.
Alex felt an inexplicable unease as Duke's handsome visage smirked at him, as if sizing him up, assessing whether he had what it took to join the pantheon of fraternity greats. The room grew colder, and the smell of musk and sweat grew stronger, as if the ghost of the former president was standing right beside him, breathing down his neck. The thunder outside seemed to grow quieter, the storm taking a momentary pause to hold its breath.
The thud echoed through the hallway like a drumbeat from a funeral march, and it was as if the house itself was summoning him to the grand pair of French doors at the end of the corridor. Each step he took down the hall felt heavier, as if the floorboards were trying to cling to his sneakers, desperate to keep him from reaching the chamber beyond. The portraits' eyes seemed to narrow, watching him with a mix of curiosity and challenge.
Finally, Alex reached the doors, their once gleaming brass handles now tarnished with a green patina that matched the moss growing along the floorboards. With a gentle push, they swung open with an eerie grace, revealing the vast, derelict ballroom that lay beyond. The chandeliers that had once showered light on the dance floor now hung in shambles, their crystals shattered and their metal skeletons twisted into grotesque shapes by time and neglect. The walls, which had once been painted in rich jewel tones, were now a canvas for the wild, crude art of the decades of fraternity members who had claimed the space as their own.
The graffiti was a testament to the house's tumultuous history, with slogans like "Duke Lives" and "ASA Forever" scrawled in paint that had faded but not lost its defiant edge. Amongst the declarations of fraternal loyalty and bravado, there were cruder messages, like "Suck My Dick," etched with a fervor that spoke of a deep-seated arrogance. The room was suffused with the scent of masculine musk, a potent mix of cologne, sweat, and stale beer. It was here that the brothers had thrown their legendary parties, where the air had been thick with the sound of laughter, the clink of bottles, and the thump of music that had shaken the very foundations of the house. It was also the sanctum for their secretive induction ceremonies, where the line between tradition and debauchery was often blurred beyond recognition.
The storm outside grew more ferocious, the wind howling like a pack of lost spirits, and the rain pummeled the windows with renewed vigor. Alex shivered, not entirely from the cold, and reached into his pocket for the joint he had brought with him for comfort. He had intended to light it up in the solace of this forgotten place, to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos of the tempest. But as he brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled, the sound of raucous laughter cut through the silence like a knife. It was distant, muffled, as if coming from another time, but unmistakable in its jovial malice. The air grew colder still, the smell of musk intensifying, and the hairs on the back of Alex's neck stood on end.
The laughter grew louder, swirling around him, echoing off the ruined walls and dancing around his ears. It was the laughter of young men, arrogant and unbridled, filled with the reckless abandon of those who believe themselves invincible. It grew, filling the vast ballroom until it seemed to come from every corner, from within the very fabric of the decaying house itself. Alex felt his heart race as the cackles grew closer, as if the ghosts of the fraternity brothers were closing in on him, eager to reclaim their lost territory.
Panic began to take hold of him as the doors that had once allowed him entrance now slammed shut with a finality that sent a tremor through the house. He spun around, desperation in his eyes, only to find that the once-rotting wood had transformed into gleaming mirrors, reflecting his own terrified visage back at him. He lunged at the glass, pounding on the cold, unyielding surface with his fists, but it remained steadfast, a silent sentinel that offered no escape from the horrors that now surrounded him.
The musky scent grew so intense it was almost tangible, coalescing into a thick fog that swirled around his ankles and crept up his legs, leaving a trail of clammy revulsion in its wake. It was as if the very essence of Duke Summers and his ilk had condensed into this room, a noxious stew of sweaty feet, ripe balls, and the indelible stench of unbridled male ego. The laughter grew louder, more insistent, the cacophony of gleeful cruelty bouncing off the mirrored walls and amplifying until it was all he could hear. It was as if the house itself was alive, and it was laughing at his plight.
Alex's eyes widened in horror as the air in the center of the room began to shimmer and distort. The shadows grew darker, coalescing into a shape that grew more and more defined with each heartbeat. A rubbery, translucent form took shape, the outline of a man with broad shoulders and muscular limbs, wearing the faded jersey of the university's legendary basketball team. The cheers grew to a crescendo as the form solidified into the unmistakable figure of Duke Summers, his smug grin plastered across his face as if he were in the middle of a victory celebration.
"What's up, fresh meat?" Duke's voice was a gruff, seductive purr that seemed to resonate in every corner of the room, the epitome of '90s jock charm, laced with a hint of something more sinister. His eyes, cold and piercing, raked over Alex's drenched frame, as if sizing him up for a game of one-on-one that Alex hadn't even signed up for. "Looks like you could use a little… pep in your step. Or maybe," Duke's smile grew more predatory, "a little taste of the Alpha life."
Alex stuttered, his voice failing him as he took in the spectral vision before him. "D-Duke Summers?" The words tumbled out awkwardly, tripping over his own feelings of awe and fear. In the stories, Duke had been the epitome of masculine perfection, a golden god who could dunk a basketball and charm the panties off any girl with a wink and a smirk. Now, here he was, in all his musky, muscular glory, standing in front of a mere mortal who hadn't even made the high school basketball team.
Duke chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, sending shivers down Alex's spine. "The one and only," he said, flexing his biceps, which bulged with supernatural vigor. His eyes sparkled with mischief, and the invisible audience of frat ghosts cheered him on. "So, you're looking for a place to stay, huh? Well, you've definitely come to the right place. Welcome to Alpha Sigma Alpha, the house where legends are made."
Alex's heart pounded in his chest as he took a step back, his eyes darting around the room, searching for any hint of an escape. The mirrored walls reflected his desperation back at him, mocking his fear. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean to disturb you."
Duke's grin grew wider, the shadows playing across his ghostly features making him look more demonic than divine. "Don't worry, little buddy," he said, his voice echoing in the vast space. "You're not disturbing anything. This house is mine, and I don't get many visitors anymore. Besides," his gaze raked over Alex's slender frame, "I've got a feeling we're going to get along just fine."
He sauntered closer, the squeak of his sneakers on the old floorboards sounding like the approach of a giant beast. Each step sent a fresh wave of his musky scent towards Alex, making his nose wrinkle in disgust. Duke stopped mere inches away, his spectral hand reaching out to cup Alex's chin, forcing him to look into the depths of his icy blue eyes. "You've got that look," he murmured, his breath cold against Alex's cheek. "like you want to get on your knees for me." He snickered, smugly patting him on the cheek.
The former frat president's touch was like a block of ice, and Alex could feel the ghostly chill spreading through his body, his skin crawling with revulsion. "You know, I could make you into something," Duke said, his voice dropping to a whisper that seemed to resonate in Alex's very soul. "With a little bit of me inside you, you could rule this university. Just like I did."
Alex's legs felt like jelly, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him. He could feel the power of the spirit pressing down on him, a crushing weight that seemed to seep into his very pores. "P-please," he stuttered, trying to pull away. "I don't want to be a part of this. I just need a place to stay until the storm passes."
Duke's laughter filled the room, bouncing off the mirrored walls and reverberating through Alex's very core. "Oh, you're already a part of it," he said, his voice filled with a dark amusement that sent chills down Alex's spine. "You're in my house now, and I decide who gets to stay and who gets to leave." His rubbery hand tightened on Alex's chin, holding him in place as his other hand began to trace a slick line down his body, the coldness of his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. "But I can see you've got potential. You could be great, kid. Just like me."
The ghostly jock leaned in, his breath cold and moist, and whispered, "Imagine it: the smell of victory, the roar of the crowd, the feel of a tight, wet pussy begging for your cock… or a nice bro hole." His eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger that made Alex's stomach turn. "All you've gotta do is let me in, and I'll show you the ropes. Make you into the King that everyone will envy. Everyone will want a taste of the Duke."
Alex's head spun, the room blurring around the edges. The storm outside seemed to mirror the chaos within him as he struggled to resist the allure of Duke's offer. The scent of musk that had once repulsed him now filled his nostrils with a strange, intoxicating warmth that made his body respond in ways he didn't quite understand. His thoughts grew clouded, his resolve wavering as he felt the beginnings of a powerful, primal urge to submit to the spirit's will.
"No," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I don't want this. I'm not… I'm not like that."
Duke's smile grew wider, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and something darker. "Oh, come on," he said, his voice a smooth drawl. "Don't tell me you've never felt that fire burning in your balls, that hunger to be on top." He leaned in closer, his breath cold against Alex's ear. "C'mon little bro. Let Duke make you into a fuckin' man."
The room grew colder as the laughter of the spectral frat brothers grew louder, the mirrored walls coming to life as their forms began to appear. The ghosts of the past were a smorgasbord of chiseled abs, bulging biceps, and cocky grins, all echoing Duke's words of temptation. They jeered and cheered, urging Alex to give in, to let Duke show him the way. The air grew thick with the scent of musky testosterone, the pressure building until Alex felt like he was going to burst.
Summoning every ounce of courage he had left, Alex wrenched himself from Duke's iron grip and sprinted towards the mirrored doors, his heart hammering in his chest. The room seemed to tilt around him, the cheers turning into taunts as he stumbled and slipped on the slick floor. But the doors remained steadfast, unyielding in their gleaming, reflective prison.
Duke's chuckles grew louder, his smirk widening into a full-blown grin. "Looks like we're doing this the fun way, bro," he said, his voice echoing through the room as if it were filled with the laughter of a thousand ghosts.
The two other figures from the portrait emerged from the mirrored walls with a fluid grace that belied their spectral nature. Perry, the former co-captain next to Duke, had a look of devilish glee on his handsome face as his rubbery hands shot out and wrapped around Alex's wrists, his grip as cold as the grave. His dark eyes glinted from behind the strands of his long black hair with the same malicious amusement that Duke had shown moments before. Darius, the former quarterback and pledgemaster, stepped out with a swagger that was all too human, his own spectral hands grabbing Alex's shoulders and holding him firmly in place.
The room grew colder, the musky scent thickening to the point where it was almost palpable, wrapping around Alex like a wet blanket that stifled his breath. "Thanks, boys," Duke said with a wink to his ghostly companions, his voice carrying the same cocky confidence that had once filled the house with the echoes of his conquests. "This one's got spirit. I like that."
Alex's heart hammered in his chest as the two other ghosts held him fast. He could feel the strength in their spectral grips, a cold, unyielding force that seemed to be pulling the very life from his bones. "You're gonna love it," Duke whispered, his breath sending shivers down Alex's spine. "The parties, the babes, the games… all the fun you could ever want. And the best part," he leaned in closer, his eyes glinting with a predatory gleam, "is that you won't have to lift a finger. I'll be doing all the heavy lifting for you."
The room grew darker as the laughter of the spectral audience swelled, the air thickening with the musky scent of the fraternity's past. Alex felt a strange heat building in his stomach, his skin tingling as Duke's smirk grew wider. "Thanks for the ride, little bro," the ghostly jock said, his eyes gleaming with an eerie light.
Perry and Darius tightened their grips on Alex's arms, their cold, slick hands digging into his flesh as they tore his clothes from his body with an unearthly strength. The fabric ripped away like paper, leaving him naked and trembling before the trio of ghosts. The air grew colder, the laughter more sinister, as the former frat members reveled in their dominance.
Duke stepped closer, his smirk growing into a full-blown grin as he reached down to Alex's navel. He placed a single finger into the soft indentation of his belly button and pushed. Alex gasped as he felt something unnatural happening, a pressure building from within. The ghosts around him grew more excited, their spectral forms shimmering with anticipation.
With a sickening sound, Duke's rubbery fingers began to stretch and wiggle, elongating into a tapered, serpent-like appendage that slithered into Alex's navel. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt—both terrifying and strangely euphoric. It was as if his body was being invaded, yet it was also opening up to accept the ghostly intrusion with a strange eagerness. The coldness of Duke's touch spread through his abdomen, sending waves of goosebumps across his skin.
The laughter grew deafening, the ghosts of the fraternity brothers chanting "Duke! Duke! Duke!" as the spirit of the legendary athlete began to squeeze himself into Alex's quivering form. The pressure was immense, the sensation of Duke's bulging muscles pushing against the confines of his skin, stretching and reshaping him from the inside out. Alex's body began to bulge and shift, his limbs thickening and his chest broadening with each new inch of the ghost's form that invaded him. The cheers grew louder, the ghosts' excitement palpable as the transformation took hold.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" Duke's voice echoed through Alex's mind, his own voice lost to the cacophony of the spectral crowd. "You're gonna be a star, kid. Just you wait and see." His hand slithered up Alex's spine, the coldness spreading through him like a frostbite.
With another, sickening push, Duke's rubbery torso and legs disappeared into Alex's navel with a wet, slurping sound that sent the ghosts into a frenzy of cheers and howls. The pressure inside him was unbearable, his skin stretching to its limits as the spirit filled him to bursting. The room swirled around him, the laughter of the ghosts turning into a dizzying maelstrom that seemed to spin him around. Alex felt his body convulse as Duke's final form pushed its way through his navel, his giant, spectral sneakers sliding into his navel with a squelch that made him want to retch.
The transformation was now in full swing. Duke's muscles bulged beneath his skin, the fabric of his body stretching and distorting around the influx of the ghostly frat president's form. His limbs grew longer, the sleekness of his skin replaced with the coarseness of Duke's hairy, bulging biceps and thighs. The smell of stale sweat and old sneakers grew stronger, mingling with the cloying scent of Duke's cologne and the ever-present musk that permeated the house. It was a stench that seemed to cling to him, a constant reminder of his new, unwanted inhabitant.
Duke's arms slithered into Alex's, the skin stretching like latex over his new, bulging biceps. The ghost's hands emerged from his wrists, each knuckle popping as his fingers extended into their new home. The former athlete chuckled, his cold, ethereal breath tickling the back of Alex's neck. "Look at these guns," he murmured, flexing the new biceps before his eyes. "You're gonna love throwing hoops around the court, bro. Nothing like the feel of a ball in your hands."
Alex's legs trembled as Duke's thick, muscular thighs pushed into his own, the sensation of his skin stretching and conforming to the spirit's shape making him want to gag. He could feel the ghostly weight of Duke's cock slither into his crotch, his dick swelling as it is filled with the 10 inch python, dripping pre from the musky foreskin. The smell of sweaty sneakers grew overpowering as Duke's size 16 feet began to slide into his own, the sticky, squelching sound echoing through the room like a taunt. The spectral jock's toes wiggled against the cold floor, the wet grime of his new footsweat leaving imprints on the old wood.
The former frat president's hand reached down to grasp the thick, meaty cock that now jutted out from Alex's body, stroking it with a confidence that was alien to him. The sensation was strange, yet undeniably arousing, a potent blend of fear and excitement that made Alex's head spin. Duke's eyes gleamed with triumph as he watched his new host's body respond to his touch. "Feels good, doesn't it?" he murmured, his voice a mix of amusement and satisfaction. "That's my boy."
With a sneer, Duke began to pump the cock with a vigor that Alex had never felt before, his hand a blur of motion as he stroked the engorged flesh. The smell of stale sweat and locker room musk grew stronger, filling Alex's nose and mouth, making his eyes water. He felt himself growing taller, his spine stretching and popping as he grew to match the legend's towering height of 6'5". The laughter of the ghostly fraternity grew more raucous, their shadows cavorting around them as the transformation neared its climax.
Alex's body was now a perfect vessel for the spirit of Duke Summers, his skin stretched taut over the muscles that bulged with unearthly power. The former fraternity president's smug face pushed through his own, his eyes gleaming with a malicious joy as his spirit claimed dominion over the terrified young man. The pressure in Alex's throat grew unbearable as Duke's head pushed upwards, his skull seemingly expanding to accommodate the spirit's influx.
"Ah, it's been too long," Duke's voice echoed through Alex's own, his mouth stretching into a cocky smile that made his cheeks ache. "Feels good to be in the flesh again." He winked at his reflection in the mirrored wall, the room now a maelstrom of shadows and echoes. "You're gonna love this, buddy. Trust me, I know how to make an entrance."
Duke felt Alex's consciousness retreating, a tiny, panicked scream echoing through the recesses of his mind. He smirked, savoring the sweet taste of victory. He pushed further, filling every inch of the young man's being with his own arrogant spirit. The last vestiges of Alex's personality crumbled away like dust in a hurricane, leaving only the cocky, dominant presence of Duke Summers.
The ghosts of the frat brothers gathered around, their spectral forms crowding in close. They clapped Duke's new, bulging shoulders, their eyes gleaming with excitement. "Welcome back, brother," they shouted, their voices a symphony of approval. They tossed him his old, tattered tee shirt , the fabric sticking to his wet, muscular chest as if it had been made for him. The scent of sweat and musk filled the air as they pulled the shirt over his head, the letters 'ASA' stretching tight across his broad back.
Duke threw his head back and roared with laughter, the sound reverberating through the house. "You know what, boys?" he said, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. "I've missed this." He turned to face the mirrored walls, his new body flexing and bulging with each movement. "But we're not done yet." His eyes swept over the ghosts, his smile turning into a wicked grin. "I'm gonna give all of you a taste of the real world again. New bodies, new parties, new pledges to break in." The ghosts roared their approval, their eyes alight with the promise of new flesh to inhabit and new conquests to claim.
With a flick of his wrist, the storm outside began to abate, the rain tapering off to a gentle drizzle, the thunder fading to a distant rumble. The house grew brighter as the lightning flashes grew less frequent, the room now bathed in the cold, blue light of the moon. "Let's go," Duke said, his voice filled with the promise of adventure. "We've got a university to conquer."
Go on and possess me
Hi, my name is Ethan Baker. I'm about to graduate this year at my high school. Me and friend, Matthew, are gonna go to the same university so I'm really excited to go. Unfortunately my girlfriend, Betty, is gonna go to a uni in a different state. I really love her and we spoke about long distance, but ever since I mentioned, that I wouldn't go to the same uni as her, I started to feel that she was sort of slipping away from me. I truly love her, so I started working out and even joined the football team. She seemed proud of me, but there was still tension between us. We still want to fix our relationship, but I don't know what else to do.
Monday 7 PM
Ethan was chilling in his room, watching Tiktoks when his sister, Chloe, suddenly stormed into the room with a weird grin on her face.
Chloe:"Sup, twerp"
Ethan:"You need something? No? Piss off."
Chloe got close to him and sat on the bed. "Oh, don't be like that. I come in peace. Actually, I was thinking you could give me a review of my new bra." she took off her shirt and squeezed her breast while looking at Ethan. "It makes them look nice doesn't it?"
Ehtan:"What the fuck, Chloe?!?"
Chloe:"Oh Ethan. How I miss a human touch on my tits. I need someone to fondle them, to kiss them." she got close to shove herself against Ethan, but he moved away quickly and jumped off the bed, clearly weirded out.
Ethan:"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you NUTS?"
Chloe started laughing hysterically, but it wasn't her usual laugh. "Dude, I can't believe I managed to prank you. You should see your face."
Ethan:"Chloe? What is going on?"
Chloe:"Man, It's ME! Matt! I found a ring and I got the power to possess someone. First I possesed our dog and couldn't get out for hours. I really wanted to let you know, but I accidentally possesed Chloe. So I thought I'd mess with you a bit."
Ethan:"This is not possible. If... if you're really Matt, tell me something Chloe wouldn't know."
Matt:"Let's see. Party in the cabin, truth or dare. You were dared to make out with me in front of everyone, but you chickened out. But later in the evening when we were alone and drunk, we made out. But you claimed you're not a homo. Haha."
Ethan:"Fuck. Matt? How the fuck is this possible? Is it reversible?"
Matt:"I don't know, but I managed to get out of our dog, so let's see." Chloe’s face made a grin as if she was really trying to concentrate. Suddenly a figure trying to get out of her body appeared. And after a few seconds Matt stood behind Chloe.
Chloe looked around confused:"How did I get here?"
Matt:"You came to scream at us for being loud."
Chloe:"Right. Yeah, stay quiet you idiots." she left not noticing that her shirt was missing
Ethan:"Why doesn't she care?"
Matt:"Don't know, but I had this feeling after leaving her body, that I can manipulate her memories for a while."
Ethan:"Holy shit. I can't believe it. You have a super power. Can you imagine what we can do with that? You can erase our bad grades as our teacher, you can send us money as some millionaire."
Matt:"Or I can possess a hot chick and you can fuck me."
Ethan:"That's disturbing, man. Besides I am loyal to Betty."
Matt:"Right. The girl that won't allow you to fuck her."
Ethan:"Shut up. At least I have a girlfriend. Let's talk about your power."
The two spend hours in Ethan's room trying to come up with a plan how to improve their lives. Their main concern was to get revenge on a bully, posses teachers to get better grades and maybe later on get some cool stuff as well.
Matt looked concerned:"Ethan, I'm not really sure about possessing a guy."
Ethan:"Why?"
Matt:"Possesing a dog was easy. Your sister was a bit of an accident, but she struggled too. So I'm worried that a strong guy would be able to resist me."
Ethan:"I guess you'll have to try and see."
Matt:"I might have a better idea." Matt looked deep into Ethan's eyes.
Ethan:"No, way. I'm not letting you possess me. I know what kind of a pervert you are."
Matt:"Come on, I need to practice. And what a better chance to do it than fail later on?"
Ethan thought about it for a while. "Fine. But you'll let me see what you're doing or leave me if it won't be possible. Ok?"
Matt:"Deal"
The two of them got up and stood across each other.
Matt had a grin on his face, while Ethan didn't seem really pleased with the idea of his friend controlling his body.
Matt:"Ready?"
Ethan:"Seriously, no touching."
Matt:"Promise"
Matt stepped against Ethan and dived into him. Ethan felt as if some force was trying to pressure him from all sides. He tried to resist, but it was so much stronger.
He didn't know what happened in the following moments, but a flash from his phone "woke him up".
Ethan:"What the... Matt. Matt?!?" he heard his voice, but he didn't see his mouth move
Ethan's body posed in front of the mirror taking a photo with his shirt off
Matt:"Finally. I didn't know how to wake you up. I knew the flash would help."
Ethan:"And my shirt off would help you how?"
Matt:"I thought if I'd do anything you wouldn't agree with, it would wake you."
Ethan:"Right. Am I really suppose to believe that?"
Matt:"Maybe I just checked myself out in the mirror, just to look at your football body. I haven't even got the chance to flex yet. All I noticed was your nice figure and your tight ass jeans. Honestly, looking good bro."
Ethan:"Thanks. At least someone thinks so. Jesus, this is so weird. Seeing my body move without me controlling it."
Matt:"Can you feel anything?"
Ethan:"Yeah, I think I can. So far I felt every movement. But I'm not sure if I can feel everything"
Matt took Ethan's index finger, licked it and pushed it into Ethan's ear.
Both of them felt that disgusting feeling.
Ethan:"Why did you do that?"
Matt:"Now we know you feel everything. But if you wanna be sure, I can push it in your ass."
Ethan:"No! Ok, we know what we needed, right? You can leave me now."
Matt smiled mischievously. "We haven't even had any fun like this. It's the first out of many times we're sharing a body, just imagine what it's gonna be like to get drunk, to eat, to take a shit together, to cum or fuck someone."
Ethan:"You're not doing that in my body. Forget about that."
Matt turned to the mirror again and scanned his body.
Matt:"Honestly. What's up with Betty? You look really great, man. I don't know what her problem is." he finished speaking and started unbuttoning his pants.
Ethan:"What are you doing? We had a deal"
Matt:"Relax. I just wanna check you out in your boxers. See what the deal is about." The jeans felt on the floor.
Matt:"Woah. Look at you. Looking good, Ethan. And check out these guns. I really don't understand that bitch. If I were her, I'd fuck you the first chance I'd get."
Ethan:"Don't talk about her like that. She... she just doesn't know what she wants."
The doorbell rang. Chloe went to answer the door.
Chloe screamed.l:"Ethan! It's Betty."
Matt:"Ooooh, this is gonna be fun. LET HER IN!"
Ethan:"Matt, you have to leave. You can't talk to Betty. You'll screw it up for me."
Matt:"Relax. At least we'll see if it's not you she's worried to have sex with."
Ethan:"Matt, don't you dare. You promised."
Matt:"Shhh. No more talking."
Betty:"Who are you talking to?"
Matt:"Hey, honey. No one. Just talking to myself. What's up?"
Betty:"Ethan. I came to talk to you. I didn't want to do it over the phone."
Ethan:"She's gonna break up with me. Fuck."
Betty:"I really thought for a long time about us, but..."
Ethan felt as if a giant weight was lifted from him. It took him a moment, but he could move again. On his own.
Betty:"... but I decided that we should take next step in our relationship."
Ethan wasn't sure, what happened to Matt, but he was really surprised by Betty's response. "Wait, really?"
Betty:"Yes. I'm ready."
Ethan couldn't believe it. It was finally about to happen.
They collapsed on the bed, embracing each other. Ethan started making out with her, while her body pressed on his hardening bulge. Ethan took off her shirt and touched her breasts. Betty touched his hard dick over the boxers amd then slid her hand in his boxers and started jerking him off. Ethan kissed Betty's neck which caused her to moan.
Betty:"Oh yeah. Fuck me."
Ethan:"You're so hot, Betty."
Betty:"Finger me!"
Ethan was shocked by her new horny attitude, but slid his hand down and pushed one finger in.
Betty:"Ohh yeah. That's the stuff, dude."
Ethan:"Dude?!? Matt?!?" Ethan jumped away from him. "What the fuck?! You can't do stuff like this. To me or Betty. This is not right."
Matt was now enjoying his breasts and looking seductively at Ethan. "You know you want to fuck me, Ethan. I have been a bad, bad girl."
Ethan:"No, not like this. I want you to leave. her body"
Matt in Betty's body:"Fine, but I'm not promising anything else this time." Betty's hand reached out to Ethan. The same feeling, but now much stronger took over Ethan.
Ethan body continued to move over to Betty. "You're so hot, Betty. "
Betty looked around confused. She was shocked as she found her own fingers in her vagina and the other hand fondling her breasts. "What... what happened?"
Matt:"You said you were ready and then you threw yourself at me."
Betty:"I... I have to go. I'm... I'm sorry, Ethan. I can't..." she grabbed her stuff and stormed through the door of Ethan's bedroom.
Matt:"You could at least suck me off. Ah... whatever. We don't need her, right Ethan?"
Matt closed the door and approached the mirror.
Matt:"Look at us, Ethan. We are so hot. The abs, the nipples. The hairless body. The muscles. We can have anyone. We can fuck anyone."
Ethan:"Matt, stop this. I know the power is taking over your mind. But I can help you control this. Just leave my body."
Matt:"Ethan, don't worry. I won't do anything you wouldn't do, man. I'm still your friend." an evil grin appeared on Ethan's face.
Matt:"Have you thought about gay sex, Ethan? You would be really popular in the gay community."
Ethan:"You just said you wouldn't do anything I wouldn't..."
Matt:"That's why I'm asking. I'm just checkinh what my options are right now."
Matt:"Well, we still haven't had proper time to explore our new shared body together, right?"
Ethan:"Matt, you have a great body of your own. Or you could take over someone else. Some jock maybe."
Matt:"But I'm you now. I want to get us to know each other better. Don't you want to be better friends? I mean. I could possess your sister again. That would be more fun."
Ethan:"Ok, fine. You can stay. But be respectful. No exploring in my body. I can see you moving my hand close to my dick every second. And stop looking at my body. It's creepy."
Matt turned around from the mirror. His head tilted to the side. "You're no fun, Ethan. We could already be jerking off your nice dick, instead we're having a fight here."
Ethan:"It's really creepy, man. Like... what if I would do the same to you in your body?"
Matt:"That's sounds hot. Come on, man. You know you're excited to try it out."
Ethan didn't reply, which Matt took as an approval and threw off his briefs. As soon as he did he looked back at his reflection.
Matt:"God daaaaaamn, Ethan. Look at yourself. You're a hot piece of meat. It feels amazing to have your body."
Ethan:"...thanks, I guess"
Matt:"And let's take this little guy for a spin."
Ethan:"Yet I'm bigger than you."
Matt:"Bigger, but not the biggest I saw. Oh wow, you're a grower I didn't expect that, it's really getting bigger and it's so hard, oh my god. You should shaved Ethan. It would make it look even bigger."
Ethan:"Matt, this is too gay for me. I don't think I want to continue."
Matt:"Hold on, I'm just about to start." Matt started stroking Ethan's dick. He went slowly first, but the built up hormones in Ethan's body forced him to go faster. Ethan felt a wave of pleasure hit him too. He didn't jerk off very often, so this was pleasant and even more so that someone else was doing it to him, for him. Someone was really appreciating his body.
Ethan:"Fuuuck. Matt. Go faster."
Matt smiled. He sped up and started humping Ethan's palm to the rhytm. Matt couldn't keep his hands off his new body. He kept returning back to his muscles, but what interested him the most were his new sensitive nipples. He stroked them while jerking off.
Matt:"Ethan. I love... your body so much"
Ethan:"I love having you in me too. I want to cum with you. Make me cum, please!!!"
Matt went closer to the mirror. The furious movements of the hand forced him to moan out loud. He was so close.
The stream was impressive. It reached a height that Matt didn't even expect and landed on the mirror.
Matt smiled, all sweaty:"Wow. You're quite a good shot. I would have gone further away from the mirror if I had known that."
Ethan felt the clarity earlier than Matt. He just let his best friend jerk his body off. This was so strange.
Ethan:"So what's the plan for tommorow? Who do you want to possess first?"
Matt:"We should try Jack and bully all his friends as a revenge. What do you think?"
Ethan:"That sounds great. We sho..." Ethan's voice faded from Matt's mind, but Matt didn't seem concerned. He got close to the mirror and looked deep into his new eyes.
Matt:"Sorry, Ethan. But I want to enjoy your body now in more privacy. I'm sure you understand." he kissed his reflection and started licking the mirror, making his way to the cum pouring slowly on the mirror surface.
Matt:"Ew, Ethan. That's for not eating enough sugar. I'll fix that for you. But now I got something to fix for you."
Matt took out Ethan's phone and called Betty. "Hey, Betty. Do you mind If I'd come over? I want to know if you're ok. You were so different before. So fearless and READY. I was really weirded out, but actually happy to see that. Really? Huh. That's strange. Well I can go to your house and we can talk about it. Ok, see you in a few minutes."
Matt locked the phone and headed to the bathroom, where he knew that Ethan had condoms ready.
He approached the mirror. Looked back at himself and said:"Congratulations, Ethan. You're not gonna be a virgin anymore. I'll give Betty a great time. Don't worry. Not like you should worry at all, you can't hear me and it's not like I'd give you your body back anytime soon. Haha."