Hi there! In this blog, you can find stories about possession, bodyswap, hypnosis, and more. I really hope you enjoy what you find here!
All stories feature mature themes. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, I kindly ask you to leave.
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Remember that I also make commissions if you are interested on it, fully customizable by you. With characters (fictional or real), situations, details, and everything you can imagine, it will be an honor to create things specifically for you (and remember, you can let your imagination run wild, if you know what I mean wink wink). They are available with my other subscriptions on Patreon.
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I also have my own Discord server to share more of my work, have better interaction with you all, and chat about body swapping, hypnosis, transformation, possession, or whatever you like. Everyone is welcome, and it would be an honor to hear your ideas so I can work on them for future stories and more.
Echa un vistazo a la comunidad Possessed Desires Stories en Discord. Pasa el rato con 132 miembros y disfruta de chat de voz y texto gratis.
New era, new headquarters. Welcome to the main stage.
Also, this is now my main account, but my old account now serves as a sort of "archive". I'm not on it much anymore, so if you'd like to request things, send messages, or anything else, please do it here. There, I only keep a record of the things I upload.
With nothing more to add, thank you so much for your interest in my stories. It's truly wonderful to have you as my fans, to have your support, and to see your excitement for me to upload more stories or update the blog. Thank you so much.
CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.
Shell Change
Hermit crabs are well-known worldwide for their habit of using seashells as "mobile homes", which they gradually replace as the previous one becomes too small or uncomfortable. It's a simple and easy process. But with human intervention, it has gradually become more complicated, causing the crabs to end up using other, less conventional things as shelters.
Larry was a small crab who had had quite bad luck finding a new shell. He had only found trash and a few other containers that were too impractical for him to use. However, being without a protective shell was like being out in the open, begging Mother Nature to do her work. He couldn't continue taking such risks.
He had surfaced to try to improve his search on the surface. Maybe he would have better options than the seabed. He searched everywhere without much success until he saw something lying on the sand. It was... gigantic, about twelve times his size. He could see the folds of muscle, the deep crimson of what appeared to be a... loincloth? He had no idea what he was looking at.
He wasn't unfamiliar with humans, but he was certainly used to seeing them more "active" rather than lying completely motionless. Larry tried to move beside it to gently push it away, but at that moment, he felt as if his paws were sinking into its skin like wet sand. He tried to back away, testing the surface with curiosity.
He had no idea if human skin had that characteristic, but a sound similar to a squawk from the sky alerted him that a seagull was circling the area, dangerously close. The little hermit crab panicked. What would he do? He was completely exposed. If he went back to the sea, who knew what dangers awaited him there? Venturing further inland wasn't an option either, and staying there was even less so. So what was the best option?
Larry stepped on the skin again, feeling the soft, squishy surface once more. Another croak alerted him. With little choice but to push forward, slowly entering the man's back. The man let out an uncomfortable grunt. The crustacean continued pushing until it disappeared completely inside his spine.
At first, the man's body remained completely still until it began to move abnormally again. His back twisted to the right, his legs began to move uncontrollably as if he were kicking the air, his arms followed suit, and his eyes fluttered open with vague movements that briefly turned them blank. He continued to grunt and gasp incomprehensibly, his hands thrashing against the sand as he felt something else invading him from within, climbing up his spine to the top of his head.
The stranger continued to thrash about on the ground, shaking his head, trying to maintain control of his body with his hands, but without much success.
— MWWWHHHAAAWWW – he continued to grunt, writhing, his breathing ragged, his pulse even more so. He tried to resist with all his might until it was impossible. He only let out a defeated gasp, collapsing onto the sand, exhausted.
He remained like that for a while, his chest exposed, until he opened his eyes, somewhat confused. The light bothered him as if the sun were shining directly on him; his head was killing him. He groaned again, covering his face.
— Ugh... Shit – He whispered, lying there with his eyes closed until he opened them, confused. He got up quickly; why did he feel so heavy? He tried to crawl, but his arms gave way, pulling him back and sending him sprawling face-first onto the sand – Agh! – He lay on the sand for a while longer, his nervous eyes darting around, his hands slowly reaching for his face – What... what the hell is this?
He got up as best he could, struggling to move his legs normally; he seemed clumsy. He moved one foot in front of the other and then back again, the sand tickling the soles of his feet. What had seemed like confusion and annoyance at first quickly transformed into surprise and... something more.
The crab-turned-man brought his hands to his new pectoral muscles, squeezing them. It was a completely new sensation, nothing like his usual rough, hard skin. It was... soft and spongy. He let out a chuckle that ended in a gasp, his eyes rolling back as his finger brushed against his areolas.
— Mfhhh! – escaped his lips, his fingers sliding against them, opening his mouth to tempt his moist tongue. Everything was new to him, so... big and perfect. Was it like a new... shell? A refuge? He'd certainly used some unusual things, but this far surpassed anything he'd ever known.
Those agile hands, with those long fingers, those... biceps and... Ugh! What was that smell? He tentatively raised his armpits to give it a quick sniff. They smelled quite strong, a mixture of sea salt and something more acidic, similar to vinegar. He wrinkled his nose but sniffed again, taking a deep drag. The more he smelled, the more he liked it.
Under his gaze, confused, as he felt his new tool harden against his wet swimsuit, Larry touched it, only to let out a long gasp. His hand wrapped tightly around it, rubbing himself like a pervert.
— Mfhhhh, f-fuck – In his marine life, he'd never known such fucking... vivid pleasure. It felt great. The birds and other predators that could devour him in one bite were nothing compared to his new form! Those enormous feet were fantastic, and those... muscles? Was that what they were called? They were fantastic! He was a little confused as to why his new "rear end" was so damn big and soft, plump like an anemone, haha! Maybe it would help him float better, who knows.
The poor guy was so confused and ecstatic about the wonders of being human that it was the least of his worries. With that enormous, smelly body, which was a damn gift to him, he could happily adapt to his new form. He was loving being human. Maybe it would be a problem getting used to the... Customs and not wanting to go swimming in the sea, but he could adapt.
And man, did he want to start learning more about the wonders of being human; those gigantic feet were piquing his curiosity so much... Larry moved along the sand, hopping gently with his new gift. How... did it even get to the shore in the first place?
It turned out the original owner was named Gerry, a tourist who had come to the beach area to experience a "bodysuit" party, one of the newest offerings from CORPUS.Inc. Entry was by invitation only. There, they assigned "roles" – some would wear the suits, others would be the ones. For better or worse, Gerry had been assigned the last one.
He felt his skin transform from what he was used to into a rubber suit the moment he took a sip of a cocktail with a "special touch". A fat millionaire had chosen him, groping himself all over with other borrowed guys just as sculpted and attractive as himself. He had behaved like a complete pervert (in fact, the word fell short; more like a damn pig), sniffing other people's feet and armpits, touching everyone here and there, and hadn't hesitated for a single second to put on his tight, passion-colored swimsuit.
Until he abandoned it on the beach. Gerry had been instructed that the effect would wear off after midday and that he would return to normal without any complications or side effects. Until Larry found him and... Well, he seemed quite pleased with his gift, which, unfortunately for the original owner, had already passed the time limit for returning to normal. So it was only a matter of time before they both got used to their new roles.
But goddamn! Larry was going to discover all out the new pleasures of humanity. Today was just the bright horizon of his new and fantastic life; this was the best shell change of his life! Yes!
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Hey everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.
I know this story is somewhat… unusual or outside the parameters of what I'm used to (like ghosts, creatures and monsters, possessions or more conventional exchanges, etc.) But I really enjoyed writing this plot and now I'd like to ask you, did you like this approach?
What do you think?
I like it
Kinda weird but I like it
Nope
Remaining time: 6 days 6 hours
Remember that in the coming months, I'll mostly be posting summer-themed stories. Other series you enjoy, like Haunted, Slipped, and others, will still be available, but I'll try to give them a more summery feel. I hope you're enjoying it!
I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.
Thalassal Thief
— Heh, you look funny.
The guy muttered with a smug smile as he watched a jellyfish-like creature lying on the sand, thrashing about as best it could under his fascinated and somewhat mocking gaze. Tyron could only watch in horror as his old body loomed over him, that mocking smile completely out of character.
He just wanted to enjoy a good beach vacation; he needed it after finishing university. He wanted to relax before jumping straight into the arena of what would be working life. He hadn't counted on a body-stealing creature from the seabed deciding to surface that very day, where the unsuspecting Tyron was dipping his toes in the sea spray.
He felt a horrible sting that made his body spasm uncontrollably. His eyes went black, and the next thing he saw was his old body from below. Noticing his thick thighs and the outline they showed in the tight swimsuit he'd bought thinking it would be the best vacation of his youth, he tried to scream, to speak, or at least beg.
He felt so... strange, having so many tentacles instead of fingers. He also felt weak. He tried to bring his new limbs closer to his leg, or even his old foot, but the thieving creature only let out mocking laughter as it swiftly pushed him away.
— Oof, so slow! – It licked its lips, flexing its biceps and stretching as it clicked its tongue – I'd like to stay with you longer to... keep rubbing your body against you, but I think you should go now.
Before he could react, a wave crashed down, pulling him under. His new, clumsy body struggled to stay afloat, but it sank back to the bottom of the sea. The new Tyron adjusted his new tool, a perverted look on his face, his chest broadening in a commanding manner, as if he wanted to assert his dominance as the main male, he headed back to the hotel.
— Time to have some fun.
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Hey everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.
I hope you're enjoying the stories with vacation or summer themes, enjoy!
Also, remember to join my new Discord server where I post updates on my stories and have a closer connection with you all. You can also give me your ideas and suggestions. And of course, you can chat with other enthusiasts of body swapping, possession, hypnosis, and other topics you love. Everyone is welcome!
Echa un vistazo a la comunidad Possessed Desires Stories en Discord. Pasa el rato con 86 miembros y disfruta de chat de voz y texto gratis.
I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
Hi everyone! As those of you who have been following me for a while know (and who's not. Hi, my name it's StarBoy), I love creating themed stories around events throughout the year, whether they're holidays or celebrations like Halloween, Christmas, etc. So, with summer just around the corner, why not celebrate these months of sun, water, and sand in the best way possible?
I'll be posting themed stories about the holidays. I hope you enjoy them and are as excited as I am! I'll be a bit more consistent with my writing, although some will be shorter, caption-style stories, but there will be a TON of updates, haha (I have way too many photos saved xd).
Other special series like Haunted, Slipped, and others will continue as usual. I learned the hard way that trying to coordinate them with the time of year is a bit of a risky move, and I don't want to do it again, haha. So, my series will develop in their own time/space (most of them) to avoid complications.
I hope you enjoy the surprises, themes, writings, and other narratives I have prepared for you! I feel like summer, vacations, resorts, spas, water parks, the beach, and more, provide tons of content to write from (don't let on that I'm excited). Anyway, that's all I wanted to share before kicking off this "Possessed Summer".
If you have any ideas for this time of year, or any particular requests (like body swapping, possessing someone, or using any of the "services" such as CORPUS.inc), I'd be more than happy to hear them!
Thank you so much for all your support; it's fantastic to have you as a community. Thank you so much. Enjoy!
CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.
Forced Fitness
When my brother suggested we swap bodies, I thought it would be amazing! I've always had a chubby body, with a little bit of fat here and there, almost like squishies. No matter how much I've dieted or exercised, the result is always the same: a damn belly and tight clothes (and not the way I'd like).
My brother, on the other hand, has a slimmer, well-defined, and attractive body, always at the gym, wearing clothes that show off everything, and that plump ass that looks like a cake. That's why I accepted without hesitation when he made the proposal. I thought it would all be mine: His biceps, his abs, all his tight clothes, those soft, attractive glutes, perfect for going out to pick up guys at a bar at night.
But all I've been doing is repeating exercise after exercise at the gym, damn it! I can't control my new body, it's like I'm on autopilot, lifting weights, doing squats and push-ups nonstop. My thighs are killing me, this fat ass is burning, all my muscles are screaming in agony, ugh!
I want my body back. This isn't what I wanted, damn it, damn it. I don't know why I agreed to swap bodies with him! And I don’t have even the slightest idea of what the hell he wants my body for. What's the point of all this?! Shit, here comes another rep, for God's sake, no! I swear I'm going to pass out from exhaustion, I can't take it anymore. FUCK!
Why did I swap bodies with my chubby brother? Meh. I was fed up with all the dieting, all the protein, exercises that left my body numb and sore. I loved the rewards, but not the work to get them. So... Why not have someone else do all the hard work while I sit back and relax? My brother already has a pig's body, oink oink, hahaha! Now I can eat all the food I want: Pizza, burgers, pasta, everything! Without worrying for a single second about calories, sugar, or fat. I can even go to a freaking buffet and eat the whole plate if I want. Haha!
Anyway, it's not like this body is going to get any fatter than it already is. I have to admit I kind of like how my belly bounces every time I move, haha, it's like having a balloon stuck to me! HAHAHA
Oops. My pizza's here, great, I was starving. Maybe my brother can keep up the training for a couple of months; I don't think he'll mind living my life on my terms.
----
Hey everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.
I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.
0. The Fool
Professor Hudson's gaze darted wearily from side to side as he surveyed the university's end-of-semester fair. He could see his stupid students running around, the occasional amorous couple practically devouring each other, athletes flexing, and some overweight guy stuffing himself with cotton candy. They all seemed so... idiotic.
Hudson was the typical academic who made life miserable for his students, always thinking he was a brilliant genius walking the earth (and, well, his almost three doctorates plus a master's degree only made him more arrogant and prone to exploding at the slightest idiotic action).
He despised athletes above all else, those fraternity members who didn't strive for anything other than getting ripped at the gym to impress girls, or even guys. All this talk about inclusion, for crying out loud. How could anyone prefer having muscles over brains? And it wasn't like he didn't take care of himself, of course he did, but he had brains.
— Stop running, you're going to cause an accident! – The professor practically barked at some students who were running around carelessly. Those brats were going to give him an aneurysm.
His gaze lingered on one of the fair's tents; there were hundreds and hundreds of them, some for target games, others for food, and there were even photo booths, but this one The tent was different… It had intense, striking, yet calming blue colors on its walls and ceiling, and a scent that seemed to be sea breeze emanated from it.
In no time, the man was already walking inside. There was only very dim candlelight and… sand? He looked up, finding a young, blonde woman with a slight smile behind a glass table.
— Hello, welcome. Can I help you?
— I… Excuse me, what is this? – the man said, somewhat confused. He didn't even know how he had gotten there; it was as if an alluring, hypnotic force, almost pure magnetism, had drawn him in.
— Would you like me to tell your fortune? I think it's better if I explain it this way – Cirse moved the deck in her hands; the cards shifted elegantly from side to side, almost floating in the air. They were engraved with bluish details and vibrant colors, as if they wanted to convey the essence of the summer that was almost upon them.
— Fortune? – the man asked. He let out a mocking laugh, shaking his head – That's for charlatans and people without their own judgment. It's obviously false – He was about to turn away when she spoke again.
— Of course, it's easy to believe what you can see, but what's imperceptible to the human eye, that's what's truly fascinating. If you're a man of fact and not faith. Great philosophers have pondered this doubt, the real question here is… If you're so sure of your knowledge, why would it matter to put it to the test?
The professor's jaw tightened. The most sensible thing would have been to leave the shop and leave the woman alone, but the urge to prove a point took hold of him. He approached the table and sat down on the other side.
— Cost?
— Our first reading is always free – She winked at him confidently as she passed the cards from one side to the other. The sound between them was like clicks. Everything moved so quickly that he didn't have a second to distinguish the different cards. The Magician, Judgment, Fortune, Knight of Wands – everything moved like a hurricane until finally one touched the table, sliding across it. Circe's smile appeared like a painting, accompanied by a giggle.
— And what's that?
She turned the card over to reveal the Fool.
— Wow, what a great turn… – she whispered, fascinated, touching the card with her elegant nails – The Fool card tells us about the beginning of a new journey, and I think it will be a very long one... With all the potential that's trapped inside you. And more than anything, liberation.
Her lips pronounced that last word as if it were silk, letter by letter. The candles slowly extinguished until the place was plunged into complete darkness. The man just rolled his eyes.
— Yes, yes, it's clear you know how to put on a good show. Can I go now? – The silence was total. Hudson sighed, about to stand up when he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He had to throw himself back down in the chair; it was a pain Disabled. Shit, was he having a heart attack? – Hello?! Something's wrong with me, I need help!
He expected to hear the woman's voice again, but only felt another pain in his ribs. He clenched his jaw, trying to stifle a scream, but it was useless. He felt as if his bones were being torn apart. He gripped the armrests tightly, gasping for breath.
— MFHHH! H-Help! – he pleaded again, desperately seeking someone's attention. Without hearing the way his clothes began to rustle, as if the seams were about to burst, the man groaned. Suddenly, his pectoral muscles expanded forward, like the yeast baking a cake fresh from the oven. He felt his shirt begin to tighten, trying to accommodate his new changes, but without much success. Buttons flew off, and the "elegant" sweater he was wearing ripped like cracks in an earthquake. The pain was excruciating; his skin burned. Something similar was happening to his lower torso, his abs heating up to melt away all the accumulated fat. His years-long belly began to reintegrate with the rest of his body, leaving behind a well-defined six-pack and a glistening, pearly complexion.
— MFHH! M-Miss! – He shouted again, a burp escaping his lips inexplicably. He tried to cover his mouth when he felt another one, but instead felt a tingling in his arms that quickly filled with that same wave of energy, expanding in a snap of his fingers. His biceps were defined, though not usually so exaggerated, but now they had grown exponentially, as if he were a gym addict. His armpits, usually hairless, were now covered in hair, and a strong smell hit his nose. Shit, why did he smell like a gym? It was the same smell that filled his classroom when the damn athletes came in after a rigorous training session. The aroma left him so confused that he didn't realize when the sensation shifted to his legs, his muscles beginning to expand, using stored fat to transform it into pure, dense muscle. The man groaned, feeling his pants begin to rip.
— Shit! No! – He watched as his tailored trousers tore to shreds, his boxers tightening as his tool began to mutate in the same way. He was well-endowed, a good 15cm, but these began to grow longer and longer, becoming heavier, thicker, and longer. His balls followed suit, becoming more rounded and filled with that precious whitish fluid. The sensation was still uncomfortable, but there was a more lustful charge in these final stimuli. The man gasped, his tongue lolling out, caressing himself as the transformation moved down to shape his calves. Again, the changes accelerated in his feet. The khaki shoes ended up torn and shredded as his feet grew, smelling and sweaty. Hudson let out a loud, confused groan, his face flushed.
— S-shit, t-this isn't right – he stammered, trying to stand. He paced aimlessly, trying to lean against the table for air, but his shoulders and back swelled, becoming larger and more massive. The stern professor's careless hand brushed against his manhood, panting. Slowly, he felt his rear end begin to grow and become rounder, as if air were being pumped into a pair of shiny balloons. The little that remained of his clothing tightened around the new shape. The air was warm, though a loud thud from his buttocks shattered it completely – PPFFRHHHHT.
His stomach ached as if tons of protein were inside him. Another thunderous fart escaped. The professor had no idea what was happening.
— N-no, it can't be – He tried to take another step forward, another burp escaping his lips. He was so desperate and confused that he didn't even notice the body he now had, which bore no resemblance to his usual physique. It looked as if his head had been attached to the body of some college athlete, and in fact, that was the extent of the change.
Energy surged up his spine to his neck.
— Shit! – What came out of his mouth was a sound completely foreign to his polite and refined tone. Now it was deep, resonant, as if he didn't have many brain cells. His voice sounded almost 20 years younger, hmmm! Little by little, his neck changed, becoming more muscular and rugged.
A huge Adam's apple rose, and his skin gradually became smoother, perfect, like that of a high-level athlete. His chin sculpted, and every trace of a double chin disappeared in the blink of an eye. His cheeks followed the same path, becoming firmer, his nose more upturned, his head grew a little, his old glasses broke from the sides and fell to the ground, shattering into pieces.
— MFHH! SOMEONE HELP! – he shouted again, his voice unfamiliar to him. The transformation reached his hair, turning it a deeper brown, styled in a shorter, more modern way. The man was slamming against the walls. But that wasn't the worst of it.
Like a jolt of energy, he suddenly froze, face up, his eyes slightly crossed, his mouth ajar with saliva escaping.
— Ughh… – He was almost in a catatonic state, only grunts and guttural sounds escaping his thick throat – Mfhhh…
His eyes remained almost blank. Apparently, from the outside, nothing was happening. But inside his mind, it was as if the Library of Alexandria were under fire again; all his knowledge, his academic degrees, everything was being thrown away while something else was forming in its place. Why worry so much about IQ when he could keep training to grow those fantastic pecs? Hehehe, one more size and he'd have to wear a sports bra, hehe. His brain was slowly slowing down as other priorities tore down each of the islands that were important to him in his psyche. Goodbye to teaching, hello to partying. Why would he be interested in teaching others when he was barely in college, bro? What kind of nerd would he be?
His mind was slowly adapting to the new frat-brother body he now had, with those nice muscles, that attractive face that could make anyone swoon. He wouldn't have a fixed preference; bread is for everyone to enjoy, right? He'd be like a beast in bed, bro! Although nervous twinks were definitely his weakness, hammering them for hours, so damn sweaty. With that damn stench emanating from every part of their bodies that he loved so much.
His mind was slowly adapting to the new frat-brother body he now had, with those nice muscles, that attractive face that could make anyone swoon. He could sweat like nobody else on campus; they called him "Stinky Danny" for a reason. Ha, his farts were fucking legendary! They smell like tear gas, but he loved them – pure protein, honey!
The old, strict, and bitter professor was a complete jock now. The image of the student he so detested, the one he thought was a waste of student funds, was now Danny.
The good old Danny, a member of the football team – hopefully he'd be captain someday, stinky, he spent more time in the gym than in his classes, which were fucking boring. He didn't think much, duh. He'd gotten into college on an athletic scholarship; he could pay some nerd to do his homework for him (or better yet, do it "in person").
The whirlwind of hormones and testosterone settled within him, his tool still hard, as were his areolas. His hand automatically moved to the area, beginning to stroke it back and forth, lost in this final mental transformation. One drop and it would completely seal off this change; there would be no going back, no more Professor Hudson, no more teaching, only being a stupid jock.
— MFHH! I-I… I… This is wrong! H-help. I-I… – The deep, gravelly voice of the new college student body rang out, his eyes rolling back in his head again. He tried to speak, but a jet of whitish substance shot out like an avalanche, spreading the stench of dampness and chlorine everywhere. His thick pecs rose and fell before his vision slowly cleared.
— Ugh, shit, my head, bro – he muttered. Around him, only the rest of the fair remained; it couldn't have been more than five in the afternoon. Perfect for finding his fraternity bros and going on other rides. Shit, he even saw a guy working at the mirror house earlier; he was so cute. Maybe he could convince him to take him downstairs and show him how good he was at hide-and-seek, damn, hehe.
The jock stretched a little. Inhaling the scent of his hairy armpits, he stroked his pecs; he looked fantastic. He'd been training nonstop for when summer came. He planned to go to the beach in the tiniest swimsuit he could find. He might go with his friends for the holidays, or even by himself. He didn't want to share all the hotties he'd hook up with when he was in the middle of the saltwater and sand. Ah… It felt so good to be free. Screw college.
— BRAWWWPP – he blurted out, letting out a laugh and shaking his head as he walked away, patting his belly. Those hot dogs hadn't agreed with him, haha. Lol. Danny let out a soft laugh as he scratched his fat butt with his hand. He loved being a stinky, farting jock so much, ha. Wait, why did he have some kind of handkerchief in his pocket? Ugh, like he's some kind of refined loser or something, get ready world, because Stinky Danny is here to have some fun, booyaaaah!
Circe could only watch from afar as old Professor Hudson, now ridiculously improved in all his glory (well, surely if he were still aware of his new appearance, he'd be going crazy), but that was the least of her concerns.
— Mwhaaaa – she heard a kind of soft, gentle grunt from her bag, and she just patted it.
— Shhh, calm down – she whispered into her deck of cards – I promise there will be more transformations soon. Litha is just around the corner, and magical energy is more abundant – She seemed to feel the air around her, taking in the sea breeze, the color of seashells etched against the sky, the refreshing sound of waves crashing against the shore – I think I know exactly where we need to go, buddy. Let's go.
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Hey everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it. Summer it's almost here, and as you know, I love writing with the thematic of the months / seasons. So in the next months, I'll try to write about summer transformation, bodyswap, possessions and more.
I really love writing about this Tarot series, so. I have a question for you:
Which Tarot / Major Arcana Card would you like to see next?
The Wheel of Fortune
The Sun
The Temperance
The Hierophant
Voting ended onJun 3
The cards of The Lovers, The Strenght, The Justice, The Tower, The Star, The Moon and The Judgement are available on my blog. If you have any particular ideas, I'd love to hear them. Thank you!
I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.
Invaders
— Whoa... Nice pecs, huh, human? – Francis murmured with a mocking smile, flexing his arms and bouncing his thick pecs as he grinned while the water cascaded down his back, soaking him completely. The sensation was so damn delicious. He was captivated by every second of this "ritual" in the bathroom, letting the drops run against his skin, the flow of water cascading over his chest, falling directly onto his abs before reaching his manhood, his strong legs with those enormous, smelly feet that seemed impossible to rid of, even with shower after shower. He was so focused on all of this, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from something important in the bathroom: the soap.
— Or what? Is something bothering you? – The "guy" chuckled again, finally taking the bar of soap and lathering it all over his body, those armpits heavy with his putrid stench, his tool, making sure to scrub well, even between his buttocks, "just in case". When he finished, he held the bar in front of his hand, squeezing it and letting the lather run to the floor – I mean, it's not like there's much else you can do.
The dark-skinned guy chuckled again, finally setting the object aside. Inside it, was the real Francis, screaming in panic, unheard by anyone, completely terrified and not quite understanding what was happening. The only thing he could "understand", if anything, was how his body was acting like a pervert under the control of someone else, or rather, something.
Francis had decided to take a shower late at midnight. His body ached with a satisfying feeling after his workout, and he wanted to wash away the sweaty gym sock smell. He turned on the water, leaving the window open. Perhaps he was being a little... arrogant with himself. He imagined some curious or unsuspecting neighbor might catch him bathing, his body in its full glory. But the fool hadn't noticed something enter the room with him – a kind of rubbery figure that clung to the soap just as he picked it up to lather up.
The creature hid perfectly, and as soon as the soap touched his skin, it slid upwards towards his mouth. The movement was so fast that Francis couldn't do anything but gasp in confusion. As soon as that thing slid deeper into his throat, he let out a guttural groan. His eyes rolled back, his expression became confused, as if he wanted to vomit. His body began to spasm, moving from side to side until something else emerged from his throat. It was also a gummy substance, like jelly or slime, but it looked… luminous, as if it were energy. Francis stuck his tongue out further, still in a catatonic state, and that source of light fell against the bar of soap, melting into one.
When the initial chaos of the situation finally subsided, a mocking smile appeared on the dark-haired man's face.
— Woah! What a nice body, huh? – He moved his hands to his chest and squeezed it carelessly, as if his pecs were a stress ball he was frantically pressing over and over again – Damn, and I thought this whole mission to Earth was a waste of time, mffhhh!
His fingers found his areolas, twisting them with a gasp, his tongue lolling out.
— Oh holy shit! – he let out an almost hysterical laugh, his expression completely idiotic, as if all that lustful energy was too much for him to handle for the first time.
It turned out that "the thing" that had entered through the bathroom window was some kind of extraterrestrial being that was part of an expedition to Earth. And although their race was far more skilled and intelligent than ours, they had a huge weakness: their anatomy- Too soft and delicate to survive the harsh world that was our planet. So… the only solution was to occupy a larger, more robust body, and unfortunately for Francis, he had been in the right place.
— MFHHH! Shit, yes – the guy kept going like a madman, checking every inch of his body, sticking his fingers in his mouth and sticking his tongue out as if he wanted to take “measurements”, slapping his buttocks a couple of times, until his gaze dropped to the obelisk that stood there, imposing.
He was about to pick up that great tool when he sensed what seemed to be mental waves, trying to trace their origin, noticing the bar of soap on the ground; the consciousness of the real Francis was there.
— Oh, hello. You don’t mind if I give you a show of how I use your body, do you? – He smiled – You better get comfortable, this is going to get good.
To be continued.
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Hey everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.
If you enjoyed this story, I'll post the longer part on my Patreon, which is only $3 for the basic plan. I also do commissions! I have over 135 more "spicy" stories available. Remember, everything that can't exist on Tumblr lives here.
Get more from Possessed Desires on Patreon. Bodyswap, possession, hipnosis, transformation stories. Support Possessed Desires and get exclus
I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.
Law Of Restoration Of Consciousness
“The National Budget and Health Resilience Act was passed last night by a narrow margin, after three days of legislative gridlock. Although the opposition voted unanimously against the controversial “Section 404” – the hidden amendment that allows the expropriation of criminal biological substrates – the need to release emergency funds forced the Senate to pass the entire package. Today, the bodies of inmates no longer belong to the State; they belong to the repair market. In the highly controversial Restitution of Consciousness Act” – The radio blared in the middle of the Transfer Center. The first of many across the country, while orderlies, doctors, nurses, and the patients themselves were moved throughout the facility, police officers awaited the necessary “shipping” to begin operations.
The Law of Restitution of Conscience was an initiative that proposed to prevent overcrowding in the country's prisons and, at the same time, allow those incarcerated to "give back" to society. And how? Quite simply, with their bodies.
To repair the damage committed, for being unable to settle their debt with the other affected party, or even for crimes of "force majeure", the prisoner would undergo a process where their body would be rehabilitated and given to someone else so that their conscience could have a second chance in that body. Those considered for the procedure would include victims of the same offender, family members, terminally ill individuals, and even others who wished to acquire a new body and donate a significant amount of money to the state.
Complaints, objections, and other demands were swift, claiming it was an inhumane and extreme treatment, going beyond existing forms of penance. However, there was no alternative but to let the project proceed once it was approved. And today was the big day.
— Are you ready? – a nurse whispered to Stacy as she wheeled her into the procedure area. Light streamed through the windows as she gazed out at the clinic's green space.
Stacy had been attacked by her ex-boyfriend a couple of months earlier at her home. The confrontation had been so violent that she had fallen from a third-story window, leaving her paralyzed from the waist down and confined to a wheelchair. Because of this, she was one of the first to be considered for the project.
Even the law had certain adjustments to make (like the issue of gender and which bodies each person would end up in), but for her, that wasn't a problem. She wanted that jerk to pay, and what better way to do it than by taking his body?
On the opposite wing, but heading in the same direction, some officers were bringing the guy in, holding him by both arms. He had stopped struggling a while ago, resigned to what was about to happen, his gaze darting from side to side.
When they finally converged, they were seated in a procedure room, which looked more like some kind of strange dentist's office with two examination chairs, a machine between them, and above them, two helmets with wires and tubes connected to them. They sat each of them in their respective place while the doctors administered a couple of IV drips, sedatives, and solutions necessary for the consciousness transfer.
Stacy smiled as soon as she felt the helmet being lowered, gripping the straps against her chin. Everything was proceeding normally until her ex-boyfriend started screaming in panic, trying to break free and get up to run away, but it was useless.
— NO, PLEASE! WAIT, WAIT. THIS IS WRONG, I'M SORRY, OK? I'M SO SORRY! – He was hysterical, moving from side to side to no avail. The machine began to growl with the force of volts coursing through it. The energy leaped mercilessly against the helmets, jerking them both around. Stacy gritted her teeth and hands, resisting. Brad, her ex-boyfriend, continued screaming in terror until everything faded to black.
Stacy felt almost as if something had enveloped her in the darkness, a bony hand that threw her to the opposite side of the room until she crashed into “something”. Her head throbbed when she opened her eyes again. Disoriented and seeing only blurry images, she felt them remove the straps and, almost instinctively, tried to stand. She ended up stumbling.
But what was different at that moment was that when her vision cleared again, she saw enormous feet in front of her, masculine, completely unlike anything she was used to.
And best of all, she could feel them again. Not only that, she watched with fascination as those fat toes responded to every stimulus she sent. The dampness they felt, the cold ground against the soles of her feet – it was fantastic.
The doctors helped her to her feet to take her to an area where she could be more comfortable and continue performing tests while they left her old body behind; it didn't matter anymore.
The routine checkups and other examinations were a complete success. It was very different inhabiting Brad's body – more muscular, with his enormous pecs, gigantic biceps, and even all the tattoos scattered across his body. But the biggest difference (or rather, acquisition?) was undoubtedly his tool. Thick, long, and difficult to handle.
But Stacy loved it, finally having the upper hand. Those same biceps that had tore her like a rag doll were now hers, obeying her every command. The bad smell was also a huge problem, but she could adapt.
After all, she had a great life ahead of her, and she was certainly going to enjoy it. She didn't yet have a clear idea of what path she would take next, but with Brad's body at her mercy, his attractiveness, strength, and charm, she was sure to do well. The only catch was that, sure, that body was straight as a kite, but with her inside, things would change drastically.
Anyway, it wasn't like Brad could complain or even see what she was doing with his body. Ah… Karma really was kind.
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Hey everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.
I really enjoyed writing this story, although I must admit it was a bit rushed, haha. But I liked the final result. I know I've already explored similar themes in other CORPUS.Inc's stories (which is basically the "origin" company of all these exchanges), or in my more recent story about police and new bodies, etc.
I wanted to ask if you enjoy these kinds of stories so I can bring you more on this theme, connected to CORPUS.Inc., perhaps in other areas of society, public services, etc.
Would you be interested?
For sure!
Mmm... Only sometimes
Nope
Voting ended onMay 29
If you have any particular ideas, I'd love to hear them. Thank you.
I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.
Veilbreaker: Ghosts
— Woah, bro. What do you think of this new body? I found it at the gym a block away. I have to admit, the smell intimidated me a little at first, but damn, it feels good now! – Oliver watched as his younger brother chuckled, placing his hands on his pecs and smiling victoriously at his new acquisition.
It's often believed that all creatures, monsters, and other fantastical beings took refuge in the Upside Down for safety, but several managed to remain, like ghosts.
They were actually floating souls who, for one reason or another, failed to reach the veil of the afterlife, remaining stuck in the world of the living, who could never see them (though there were some exceptions, of course); but the most peculiar characteristic of ghosts was always… Possession.
Some found it more difficult, others easier, but the ability to inhabit a mortal body was an innate skill. The duration always depended on various factors, sometimes even the way they were bound to something. When souls became trapped in this plane, they were often confined to a place – a hospital, an institute, or a house – unable to move beyond the property's boundaries. Others were bound to objects, and many others seemed to have no physical anchor, but rather a moral one, more like a mission to fulfill in this world; and these were the strangest. Why? It was simple. They could move freely wherever they wanted, so far that they could traverse entire states, but with the sole condition of fulfilling their assigned mission. Otherwise, their life force would gradually weaken until they vanished like sea foam.
And that was the case with Oliver and his brother, Jacob. The two were inseparable, practically best friends, always doing everything together. They had moved into an apartment near the university campus where they had both been accepted, always supporting each other.
Until a motorcycle accident shattered all hope for Jacob's future, bringing the curtain down.
Oliver sank into depression and despair, rarely leaving his apartment. His grades were declining, and his life in general was deteriorating, until one day, a complete stranger (wearing the sweatiest clothes imaginable) showed up at his house claiming to be his brother.
Jacob's mission in life beyond death was none other than… to take care of his brother. Although, with his possessive powers, they certainly let loose with all the "mischief" they got up to.
From possessing some strict teacher and forcing him to dance in the middle of the classroom, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling down his pants before all the students ran for the hills.
To getting revenge on some guy who had crossed the line with Oliver, teaching him a thing or two about manners. The possibilities were endless.
Just like time itself.
— What do you want to do tomorrow? – Oliver murmured with a gentle smile, waiting with his new "friend", Mark. In the middle of the fast-food line, a side effect of possession was the enormous energy expenditure it entailed, so Jacob always had to be burning calories until he was bursting to replenish his energy.
— How about going to the movies? There's a film I've wanted to see for days. Shall we?
Oliver barely nodded with a chuckle. Jacob took a step forward to order the food while he stayed behind, his gaze lingering on him for a long moment, not because of his physique or his biceps – that was the least of his concerns. But something did frighten him: How much longer would he have his brother with him? When would he know it was "time"? Would it be like this forever? Or would there be a day when he would wake up again without him by his side? A day when he would finally "grow up" and stop needing him?
He loved having him around, and beyond all the variety of bodies he could occupy left and right, completely at his will (be they athletes, attractive neighbors, gymrats, or some attractive DILF).
What he adored about all of this was the second chance it implied, being able to have him by his side. Laughing, talking, playing video games until after dawn, keeping each other company and just being themselves.
They even supported each other sometimes in romantic matters, when Oliver noticed someone he liked and Jacob gave him the “encouragement” he needed, or even when Jacob himself saw someone he liked.
The two sat on a nearby bench, each with an ice cream in hand. The vanilla flavor gently permeated their taste buds. Oliver's feet swung back and forth, a mixture of inertia and nervousness.
— Happy birthday – he murmured with a smile, taking a bite of his ice cream.
— Oh, you remembered, thanks! – Jacob said, laughing and eating his dessert a little faster, almost running – It's weird, you know? Celebrating my birthday when it's not like I'm going to keep growing the traditional way, haha.
His older brother barely nodded, looking up at him again, a smile now tinged with melancholy.
— I love you.
— I love you too, bro, come here – Jacob pulled him into a hug, ruffling his hair with laughter. The other pulled away slowly, tears wetting his cheeks.
— I mean it, I love you so much. I... I'm sorry if I didn't tell you sooner.
— Hey, what's wrong? I'm here, you know that. You can count on me for anything, I'm never going anywhere.
— You don't know that – he murmured, looking down – And I need you.
— Growing up is part of the journey. There will come a day when you can finally move forward on your own, but until then, I’ll be here with you.
Oliver’s gaze remained fixed on the ground, a couple more tears welling up as he shook his head.
— I’ll always need my little brother – Jacob smiled, pulling him into a gentle embrace, and they stayed like that for a while.
— I love you, big brother.
The two brothers stayed hugged for a while until the new Mark pulled away to pat the other's leg more enthusiastically.
— Come on, I don't want you acting like a crybaby on my birthday. You owe me a cake and you owe me my present, or will you be a bad brother? – Jacob stood up cheerfully, stretching his muscles a bit with that mocking smile that always characterized him – Come on, I saw a muscular guy coming out of a sporting goods store, maybe we should give good old Mark a break and get another meaty suit, ha. Shall we?
Oliver looked at his brother's outstretched hand, his heart still aching. He wiped away his tears, nodding and forcing a smile.
— Let's go.
— I heard a guy is coming to promote his movie this week.
— Don't joke around, from Marvel? What if we try to possess him?
— Don't exaggerate.
They both chuckled, embraced, and walked away together. Just as it should always have been.
----
Hey everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.
I know this isn't what I usually write; I actually had something else in mind and ended up writing something completely different. But I wanted to touch on a topic that's important to me and somewhat sensitive these days, which you can probably guess is because of the narrative, haha.
But without going into too much detail, I hope you enjoyed this story.
I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.
Fever Exchange
— You've got to be kidding me – Dexter muttered, his nose completely congested, his eyes watering, and sneezes relentlessly pounding his nostrils as he squirmed in Kerry's room.
Kerry was the typical nerd: bright, good grades, somewhat preppy-looking, with a haughty gaze and a sarcastic remark waiting to spill out every time he opened his lips. He had a slim, attractive body and a smile brimming with self-importance.
Dexter was muscular, a bit short, but that only made his enormous biceps and thighs, the result of so much time spent at the gym, look even better. He always wore workout clothes that were usually damp from the copious amounts of sweat pouring from his pores, and he had a slightly unpleasant odor no matter how much deodorant and cologne he tried to use; the result was always that earthy, musky scent. Despite being an athlete, he had a kinder, gentler, and more fun-loving nature, somewhat naive, which Kerry noticed immediately. They were both new to the university, roommates, and poor Dexter had been kind without hesitation, unaware of what was about to happen.
— If you need anything, you can tell me without hesitation. I'll always help however I can – Dex said, placing a box of his belongings on his bed. Kerry just gave him a somewhat sinister smile behind his back.
— Actually… I do need anything. Would you do anything then? – Dexter felt a bad feeling in his lower back, but his kind nature ended up overcoming his intuition and common sense.
— Of course.
It turned out that Kerry had an antique bracelet made of what appeared to be blue quartz crystals. It was a gift from his father, taken from who knows where in Asia. It needed to be linked to two souls, although one would have predominant control over the other. Over what? To move them around as he pleased, all he needed was a verbal affirmative response, a handshake, and Dexter's body would be all his to occupy as he wished.
The poor athlete, who thought he had made his first friend at university, knew nothing of this.
The first exchange occurred during a gym session. Dex was doing a couple of weightlifting exercises when, in the blink of an eye, he found himself somewhere else – more specifically, sitting at a desk. In front of him was an exam with questions and things he knew nothing about, and most importantly, there was a note under his arm: « Thanks for agreeing to cover for me. I'll give you back your body in a bit ;) »
It turned out Kerry had been given a surprise exam that was far too tedious for him. He didn't need to worry about passing or failing; his father could buy him a good grade with just a checkbook. But he wasn't about to sit for more than three hours until his backside went numb. For that, he'd rather use Dexter's vigorous body and do whatever he wanted with it. When the athlete returned to his own body, he learned from his friends and his photo gallery that yesterday "he" had gone out partying, ending up in a club somewhere in the city, drinking to excess and making out with strangers until dawn. Kerry had made sure to leave his body before the terrible hangover hit him.
The rest of the exchanges were similar. If Kerry didn't want to do anything, was bored, needed a quick way out of an awkward situation, or had nothing better to do, in a snap of his fingers he was already inside Dexter's muscular body. And man, he adore it. The athlete thought his "friend" was very generous in buying him various pieces of sportswear: shorts, compression shirts, leggings, although they were a bit too… tight for his liking. He soon discovered that these gifts weren't for him, but rather clothes that Kerry planned to wear someday.
The random exchanges continued, over and over, with Dex powerless to do anything about it other than try to cope while in Kerry's body. He found hobbies, hung out with friends, and so on, but he always felt uneasy. The nerd's body was more… thinner, skinny. He felt incomplete without the massive arms and pecs he had worked so hard to achieve. But every time he brought it up, he only received vague excuses from Kerry and empty promises about "not doing it again without his permission".
Dexter had managed to get some very expensive and exclusive tickets to see his favorite artist, which he had saved up for months and months of earning a salary (which hadn't been easy either, considering that several times Kerry had taken over his body and left without asking permission or bothering to come back; it was a miracle he hadn't been fired). After getting the tickets, he asked Kerry for only one favor: not to switch places with him on the day of the event. The nerd gave him his word.
Or at least that was the case until he got sick.
Dexter, in Kerry's sick body, stared at a note stuck to the refrigerator, his watery eyes barely allowing him to make out the letters as snot dripped: « Heeey, dude. Sorry, I have a terrible flu and honestly, I don't want to stay here while I choke on my own phlegm, lol. Would you mind if I took over your body until my body feels better? Thank youuuu. »
The athlete almost wanted to scream in frustration and cry, unsure if it was from the same feeling that now filled his chest with no choice or from the terrible, aching body he felt. He sat on the floor, sobbing and sniffling.
— So your roommate does whatever you want? – A similarly muscular and attractive guy was standing next to "Dexter". They'd started talking a couple of hours earlier while waiting for the concert to start. Kerry had chosen a black sleeveless shirt that showed off his bulging arms perfectly. He could feel all the guys around him giving him flirty looks, practically devouring him with their eyes, and he couldn't be more damn excited.
— Yeah, the poor idiot is like my lapdog – he chuckled softly, casually running his hand along the guy's chest. They were looking at each other with interest, and it was clear where things were headed if the "innocent" caresses continued.
— Well, I'm glad he gave you his ticket to come without complaining – the other said confidently, winking as he licked his lips.
— You can say that again – Kerry laughed inwardly, damn, he really liked using Dexter's body that much, poor idiot haha. He would soon manage to keep his body forever, and there would be nothing that poor foolish himbo could do.
----
Hey everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.
Also, remember to join my Discord server where I post updates on my stories and have a closer connection with you all. You can also give me your ideas and suggestions. And of course, you can chat with other enthusiasts of body swapping, possession, hypnosis, and other topics you love. Everyone is welcome!
Echa un vistazo a la comunidad Possessed Desires Stories en Discord. Pasa el rato con 89 miembros y disfruta de chat de voz y texto gratis.
I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
Hi, I had planned a story for today, but I think it would be better to talk about something that's been stuck in my system for a few weeks now, and that I honestly don't know how to address or get out of (I'll be going to therapy soon, haha, just waiting for my therapist to make room in her schedule). But to keep this short, here's the thing: An insecurity has surfaced that I don't quite know how to handle. As you know, the niche of body swapping, possession, hypnosis, and other related things that we all love so much is quite small, so finding good stories is like striking gold. And for me, writing stories like that made me feel good, made me feel like a professional writer, with my fanbase, people who longed to read me, who liked my writing style, and so on.
As you know, my desire, my life's aspiration, is to one day become a writer, and I'm afraid that this path isn't the right one to achieve my goal. I'm worried that my readers aren't interested in the plots, my writing style, or my pen, but rather in the raw, carnal approach, in finding that rare "gold" and not so much in the person behind it. I'm worried that if, for example, I decided to change my niche someday to something more serious or less "spicy", 95% of you would leave.
And thanks to this insecurity, I've been finding it increasingly difficult to write, as if I can't concentrate or as if the ideas don't flow as easily as before. Which worries me, because it's not something I'm used to, and I'm starting to get frustrated.
I know this isn't a story, I know this isn't what you expect, I know you'd prefer an update on a series, something short, a one-shot, or even a new post on Blogger; but I'm not managing what I'm feeling well, and I'd like (if it's not too much to ask, of course) words of encouragement, from reader to writer, from writer to writer, anything.
I know this is more of a professional's job, and I'm definitely working on it. But I feel like I'm losing my way, that maybe I'm not a talented writer and people just accept what's there because there's not much else to work with, that I'm a fraud, and other insecurities that are slowly pulling me into a very dark place, I hope, and don't want, to end up in.
I apologize if this post wasn't what you were expecting. I hope I haven't bothered anyone, and I hope you can help me, that would be great. Thank you so much. I'll try to post new updates this month, keep working on the stories and everything else. Thanks for reading.
CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. All the stories features only adult characters. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.
Haunted: Kiss Me And I Might...
Previously on Haunted: After Benji and the others discovered that the mortal's body had been stolen by a ghost, they became involved in trying to figure out who the imposter was. While Ben and Julian slowly explored their feelings, Tobias found something in the library of the old wing: a book containing notes and other rituals that indicated the theft of Benjamin's body wasn't an isolated act but something premeditated. Inside, Tobias found a stowaway lurking around – Daniel was spying on him. The oldest ghost, suspecting that the former class president and Brady were involved, decided to use his powers to trap the ghost's essence in order to ask him a few questions. Ben wondered what he was feeling for the "stranger" that Julian is to him, while the jock tried to use as much time as he could to his advantage.
Previous part: Haunted - Answers
— This is the last time I'm going to ask, who's inside his body?
— I don't know, damn it! How many times do I have to repeat myself?! – Daniel was trapped inside a barrier created entirely by energy by Tobias. They had chosen Rex's workshops as their "base of operations". Usually, no one went there; they were the perfect hiding place for both the living and the ghosts. However, judging by Daniel's desperate screams and cries – he sounded almost like a parrot – the mission would be difficult.
— You were in the library. The book was with you – Tobias's expression was dark, almost terrifying – Are you still going to say you have nothing to do with it? What do you want? For me to lock you in a jockstrap?
— I don't know anything, you moron!
Benji sat on the floor, his hands clasped together, fidgeting nervously, a pit in his stomach. The commotion around him seemed completely muted as he thought more and more about what had happened a few days ago: Julian's lips against his, his own words whispered – « I love you » – to someone who wasn't Peter, their bodies intertwined. If it had been an only night affair, perhaps he would have felt a little better, but the memories of them cuddled up together, the soft kisses, yearning for something more than just physical affection, his own heart pounding with hope at Julian's teasing, the fruity scent of his hair, and every inch of his body making his legs tremble. What was he doing? He had a boyfriend. Someone was supposed to be "waiting" for him, someone he was in love with, someone he was supposed to feel all these things for. So what was he doing, feeling this hurricane of emotions for someone he couldn't even touch while in his own body?
He kept fidgeting with his fingers, nervous, his lips pressed tightly together, his breath ragged. When the time came to leave, what would he do?
— Are you okay? – Julian asked with a gentle smile, standing beside him.
— Yes, I'm fine, everything's fine – he nodded half-heartedly. The athlete barely noticed, letting out a soft laugh. His gaze shifted to Daniel's interrogation, which resembled a chaotic play, both of them shouting at each other and trying to fight. It wouldn't be long before Tobias lost his patience and intervened, perhaps resorting to his fists. He'd never seen him so... unhinged. Tobias was usually very kind, shy, always reserved. Rex was much more imposing than him, with his punk appearance, his height, and his enormous build. Why then did the skinny, shorter one look like a rabid fighting dog?
He smiled. Lately, everything made him laugh. Still floating in his dreamy cloud, he knew he was being selfish in more ways than one, rejoicing in what had happened to Benji, that he was now trapped in that form, his body being occupied by who knows who. Rex was supposed to be covering that flank, but the imposter was being too convincing to properly follow a trail; and yet, Julian was happy.
Finally, he could be with the guy he loved, without needing to assume another identity to get close. He could be himself, with his own jokes, his own anecdotes, and more than anything, he could touch him. He could feel his hands, his hair, all of him. Was it wrong if… He wanted things to stay this way? What would be the downside? Staying together for all eternity? Like two lovers, just the two of them and no one else. Was he being selfish?
— Jules, about what happened the other day, I… – Benji finally dared to open his lips, the words coming out with difficulty, trembling. He didn't know how to broach the subject at all. He had to inhale and pause; he couldn't feel anything for a stranger, could he? It was a one-night stand – I…
— I'm fed up! – Julian and Ben's tranquility shattered as Tobias broke their own safety distance to grab Daniel by the collar and punch him. The sound was sharp, like a blow to the bone. He raised his hand again and delivered another right hook that connected with his nose. The former student council president's head snapped back like a spring, and as soon as it rebounded forward, he was met with another punch, and another, and another.
Jules jumped up to try and stop Tobias, grabbing him from behind. The guy was flailing wildly, hysterical.
— Let me go! What are you doing?! Do you want Ben to be left without a body?! LET ME GO! – Julian tried to use all his strength to subdue him, but it was like trying to control a tiger. He was furious, continuing to throw punches and kicks at the air, some of which even landed on Daniel, who was on the verge of fainting, with traces of blood on his skin.
Ben slowly approached Daniel to help him, gently laying him down on the ground and cradling him in his arms. Tobias continued to scream, growl, and act uncontrollably.
— You have to calm down, Tobias! That's enough!
— Shut up, Julian! You don't know anything! You don't care about anything! Why are you supporting him?! Whose side are you on?! – Tears streamed down his face, his strength gradually waning, reducing him to a rag doll that writhed with difficulty in the other's arms – W-We have to help him, they can't do that to him.
His sobs rang out, his legs buckled, and Julian pulled him close, hugging him as best he could. A weight settled in his chest as he realized the selfishness of wanting Ben to stay with them. He closed his eyes.
— Ben… We'll go get some fresh air. You stay with Daniel and… Don't let him leave, okay?
Their eyes barely met. Jules looked away guiltily, turning away and letting Tobias crawl to his side, sobbing.
Daniel's body still lay on the workshop floor, battle wounds etched across his face, the taste of rust lingering on his tongue.
— Wow, looks like the old guy knows how to hit – he grunted, trying to sit up. A sharp pain in his stomach made him lean back against Benji's legs again.
— Will you be... okay?
— Ugh, it's not like I can die again, is it? – He chuckled slightly at his own comment, shaking his head – I'll be fine. Ghosts regenerate. I just need a couple of hours and I'll be good. You don't need to keep an eye on me – He grunted, trying to move away, but the pain pulled him down again. Ben watched him with a touch of pity, like a wounded fox, and swallowed hard.
— Why did you have the book?
— I already told you I didn't have anything.
— So what were you doing in the library then? – Daniel's gaze shifted.
— That's none of your business.
— Neither was the fact that you just got your face smashed in and here I am – The ghost's jaw tightened slightly, his eyes narrowed with a hint of suspicion, and Ben thought that at any moment he might explode at him, but instead, he just sighed.
— I was spying, okay? I usually spy like this, on the living or the dead, it's… – He paused for a second, as if hesitating to say what he was about to say or remain silent – It's what I do, I like to blackmail others.
— What?
— Come on, for God's sake, are you deaf? I already told you, I spy on others, I do it all the time. People are careless with things when they think no one is watching. Julian scratches his ass, I saw you pick your nose, Tobias has a secret room under the library, see? It's what I do.
— And... why are you doing that? Did you want to see what Tobias would do so you could tell Brady what's going on with me? – Ben's tone turned somewhat darker, the temperature in the room beginning to drop – Is Brady the one inside my body?
— No! Look, I'm just a gossip. I just like having that feeling of control and... knowing what others are trying so hard to hide, because I... I...
— You what?!
— Because I like being in control? Okay?! – He seemed about to explode, his chest rising and falling. Nervous, he pressed his lips together. He didn't know why he was telling Ben all this, or why he was even speaking at all, but it was as if he couldn't stop the flow of water. Tears began to stream down his face as his voice dwindled to a whisper – My whole life I've lived off my parents, always doing what they wanted, what they had planned for me. I didn't... Shit, why am I telling this to a junior? – A pitiful laugh escaped his lips. Lowering his gaze, he bit his lip as if trying to hold back, to finally be silent.
Ben hadn't spent much time with Daniel; in fact, he seemed like a… minor character who always hovered around Brady like his lackey, a remora hiding behind a great white shark. But he always saw him as imposing, confident, almost arrogant, with the same self-assurance as a president, impeccable, unflappable. So seeing him shattered, his shirt disheveled, crimson stains on his face, his hair disheveled, and his eyes filled with tears, was like watching an ivory statue fall and crumble.
— You can tell me, I wouldn't have to judge you, I… I'm here by your side – Ben smiled, placing his hand on Daniel's shoulder. Daniel looked at him with a mixture of impatience and incomprehension. The thought crossed his mind to silence him, to shove him away and run, but those nerves of steel seemed to fail him once again.
— I didn’t want a career in politics – he murmured – But that’s what paid the most, according to my parents, what would make me someone in life, ha… If only they had known – He shook his head to himself.
— And does control make you…?
— It makes me feel good. It’ll sound cliché, or even far-fetched, but it’s like I finally… have control of everything; not my life, but at least what others do, like having something in my hand and squeezing it however I want – There was a certain wicked glint in his eyes, which vanished into a storm raging in his irises – I couldn’t choose anything about my path, not who I wanted to be, what I was going to study, who I was going to be in institute, in… Nothing – he whispered – I have nothing.
He lowered his head, wiping away a couple of tears.
— Is Brady using you for that too?
— What? No – a look of confusion crossed his face – I know Brayden can be a son of a bitch most of the time, but he's not as bad as he seems, he's just… lost – he murmured – Maybe that's why we're friends.
Ben watched as Daniel looked away.
— Lost?
— He's the youngest, you know? He's only been a ghost for fifteen years, it's very recent; eternity as a ghost is something no one prepares you for, everyone expects something else, paradise, hell, reincarnation, or even that it all ends and you evaporate as quickly as you arrived, but… Do you think this looks like paradise? Never being able to leave, seeing the same hallways over and over, how everyone can leave except you, how you remain trapped day after day, week after week, month after year, decade after decade. He's just someone trying to cope as best he can with what we've been dealt. Not everyone finds a good friend like Tobias.
Daniel finally managed to sit up slowly, leaning his back against the wall, his head throbbing.
— He sure hits hard.
— You can say that again – He chuckled, his gaze somewhat distant – I owe you an apology, Ben.
— What?
— I also supported the idea of making you a bet, you know, the whole… who could mess with you first thing. Zeke completely ruined all that, but that's another story – Ben's expression turned a little more serious. Daniel wasn't very good at talking about his feelings, much less apologizing, but he wasn't stupid either – What I’m trying to say is, I was bored, and I thought it was funny. I was wrong. You didn't owe us anything, or give us the right to treat you like a toy. You didn't choose to have your gift, and maybe if things had turned out differently, you wouldn't be involved in all this.
Ben thought for a moment, then offered a soft smile.
— Thanks.
— Nothing to thank me for – He tried to adjust himself a little to ease the pain, letting out a gasp – And about your possession, I think I can help with that.
— What?
— I spy on everyone, remember? I know where every ghost is, and which ones are nowhere to be found.
— And who's nowhere to be seen, you nosy bastard? – From behind the wall, Julian and Tobias reappeared. Tobias seemed much calmer, though that didn't diminish his passive-aggressive attitude, as if he could snap again at any moment. His gaze settled on both of them. Daniel's profile also narrowed with a certain wariness.
— Relax, both of you. Daniel, he… – Ben's voice trembled with doubt. The trust the other had placed in him could vanish with a single wrong comment – He was just passing by the library. He doesn't know anything about the book. Brady isn't involved either, but he thinks he can help us – Daniel returned his gaze with a calmer, gentler expression, whispering a small "thank you" under his breath.
— I wander around the Institute to kill time most of the time. I usually know what everyone does, their routines, and where they are or will be in the coming days – He stood up carefully, stopping against the wall, and slowly moved forward until he reached a sketch of the facilities – Mr. Ashford never leaves the old wing. I know Rex is here in the workshop most of the time. Your nerdy friend is probably hanging around the library. I saw Brady before someone locked me in a shoe; he was heading to the gym. The only two people I haven’t seen, and who aren’t in the room, are Zeke and Marco.
Julian’s heart sank a little at the possibility that his best friend was behind it all. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but Marco had too many loose ends: a career in Hollywood, talent that had been taken from him. Why wouldn’t he want to get back in the game in all its glory?
— Zeke would be too impulsive with his body – Tobias murmured coldly – Marco wouldn’t do that, so why should we believe you?
— Why would I lie to you? – Ben tried to think of something; the words had evaporated from Julian’s mind, and he felt his stomach clench.
— We can’t let him go. We have to keep him trapped here – Tobias said – If he’s lying, he’ll go to Brady and tell him, or maybe to the imposter, and it will all be for nothing. We have to act fast before summer vacation; time is running out, and we can’t afford to leave any loose ends.
— That’s a bit extreme, Toby. We can’t keep him here. It’s not fair to him – Julian murmured, his head throbbing. He knew Tobias was partly right, but he didn’t want to resort to such a desperate measure.
— Do it – Daniel said, returning to his “circle of containment”, sitting down, still bruised – I only have one condition.
— We won’t deal with threats.
— What do you want?
— My phone.
— You have a… cell phone?
— Yes, I got it a couple of months ago. It's not so heavy that I can't use it, and it's… fun. It's the only way I have to get out of here, even if it's just for a little while. It's all I care about. You can keep me here as long as you want, but I want my phone.
— No, absolutely not. Do you think we're stupid? It's obvious you can tell someone. What's the point of having you here then?
— It's my condition. I'll stay here if you bring me my phone. Without it, there's no deal.
Ben's gaze shifted back to Daniel, to his disheveled hair, his downcast face, as docile as a defenseless creature. He understood why the others distrusted him. Even part of him didn't quite believe everything Daniel had just said, but if only…
— Give him the phone.
— What? Ben, have you lost your mind?!
— No, but we don't gain anything by having him here. He already said his phone is the only way he can escape from here. You, more than anyone, should know how that feels – Tobias clenched his fists, letting out a sigh.
— Fine, I'll go get it. Where's that thing of yours?
— It's in the library, between the politics and law books. Bring the charger too. I wanted to finish watching a series.
The ghost grunted, slid his hand along the floor to recreate the energy cell, and turned to reluctantly exit through the wall. Daniel slid his back gently against the wall, closing his eyes and resting for a while.
— Ben, about earlier… – Jules murmured.
— Yes, we still need to talk about it – he whispered, lowering his head. The pressure in his chest returned – Maybe we need a more private place – The athlete nodded, heading towards the exit. The mortal followed him slowly, glancing back to see Daniel still there, huddled together. Ben returned for just a moment.
— I know Tobias can be a pain sometimes, but you should try to be his friend. Maybe you have more in common than you think. Eternity is a long road, so why not try to make it easier for everyone?
Daniel opened one eye and settled back down as if he hadn't heard anything. Ben gave a half-smile; at least he'd tried. As soon as they both left, Daniel settled back down, waiting until Tobias returned.
— How are you supposed to use this?
— Come on, I'll show you. Do you want to listen to music?
— Can it be classical music?
— Don't go overboard.
Ben and Julian walked through the campus greens. Night had fallen, and the air felt cold with the moon shining down on them. Ben's hands were in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the grass. Julian seemed unsure where to put his own.
They walked in complete silence to the art studios. Because of the time and the distance, they were completely deserted, barely illuminated by the windows. Ben sat down on a stool, and Julian sat next to him.
— About what happened, I…
— What happened was a mistake, Jules – he murmured, his gaze drooping – I… I have a boyfriend, Julian. And I can't be playing this game when he's not here. We can't let this happen again. Do you understand?
Julian's heart broke. He understood Benji's reasoning completely, but at the same time, what should he do? The Peter he missed so much, the one to whom he swore eternal loyalty, was none other than himself. If Ben were alive again at that very moment, Peter would greet him with indifference, only using him as a friend when it suited him. He wouldn't give him the time of day in a million years. Marco's advice burned him like ice, so trapped in the web of his lies that even now they were crushing him.
— But… Wait – he tried to murmur. Ben stood up, shaking his head.
— I'm sorry, Jules, but I can't. Perhaps the best thing would be… to take some time apart, and I can't guarantee we can be friends. I can't do that to him, I'm sorry.
Ben was about to take a step forward when the ghost grabbed his hand tightly, causing him to lose his balance and fall backward, right where Julian was. He tried to catch him, but it was as if the mortal's body had become intangible, and he was immediately sucked into Jules.
He gasped in confusion, unable to say anything before spasms began to wrack him. His eyes rolled back, his back twisted backward, and his mouth opened as his fingers twitched.
— Ugh… ugh… – Short, gasping sounds were all that escaped his throat. His legs buckled as he felt something surge within him, like a whirlwind swirling in his stomach, rising through his chest and unleashed in his head. His consciousness was pushed back into the driver's seat before he finally succumbed. His body stopped moving, his lips slowly closing, as did his eyes, and he fell “asleep” against the table.
What could have been five minutes or an hour passed before he gasped for air, waking up.
— G-God, what was that? – he murmured, confused, looking around. He tried to get up, but the weight of his legs held him back, sending him crashing to the floor – Damn it… – he groaned, his eyes widening in shock. The athlete got up as best he could, almost having to crawl on the floor. His center of gravity, weight, height: Nothing matched what he was used to. He felt heavier, clumsier; his arms and legs were longer. He approached a mirror in the classroom, perhaps part of some class project, and inhaled nervously, observing his reflection – No way… Shut up…
He whispered, running his fingers against his cheeks, astonished, feeling the smooth skin, the defined cheekbones, the sculpted chin, the face etched with years of athletic practice. He swallowed nervously, running his fingers over his lips, which he hadn't had much time to kiss. Because that wasn't Julian; that was Benji.
— Um… Jules? Are you there? – Ben murmured with a hint of panic, but there was no answer. It was just him and the night, completely alone. He continued to observe his body with complete fascination. Having been in that other athlete's body had been interesting, with its large muscles and all, but this was… very different. Julian also had a sculpted body, with his strong biceps, his pecs, my god, his abs, his chiseled back, he could feel it all. He was fabulous.
Even their heights were different; Jules must have been about 10 or 20 cm taller at most. It felt so good. His cheeks were flushed as he looked at himself. He casually flexed his arms, widening them with a chuckle. His perfect white teeth met those soft lips. His heart pounded. Slowly, "Julian" took off his sports jacket, letting it fall to the ground. He flexed his arms forcefully, admiring the mountains of muscle that formed there, almost mesmerized.
— You're so... perfect – he murmured. The burden of guilt seemed to vanish, and honesty surfaced as if possession were a truth serum or something similar. Those days with Julian by his side had been the most vivid thing he had ever experienced: his laughter, his silly jokes, that smile and gentle gaze he always found behind him, the memories of his kisses drawing him closer, yearning for more. He ran his fingers once more over those velvety lips, the scent of his body, even within someone else's, as if his soul held an essence he couldn't erase from his mind.
Benji slowly approached the mirror, his breathing slow, as if he didn't want to break the spell of the night.
— Jules? – he murmured again, making sure he was alone. No one answered. He moved closer and closer, until he was just inches from his reflection. He brought his lips to the cold surface, trying to kiss him – I... I love you – he whispered shyly, before kissing him again.
Although he wasn't entirely alone, deep within his own subconscious, Jules was watching him like someone watching a romantic movie, eyes twinkling, a silly smile on his face. Could he have answered him all this time? Of course he could have, why didn't he want to? The answer was right in front of him.
Perhaps even without disguises, they could have fallen in love. He so wished he had realized that sooner.
« Kiss me and I might drop dead… »
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Hey everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.
I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
Hey, hey! Sure. It would be quite interesting to write some fanfiction. Although, I have to be honest, it's been ages since I've written anything like this here on the blog. I think I've only worked on the idea once or twice since the beginning. But it would be really great to do it, although I think I'd need your help planning which fanfic you'd like best. I've been thinking and I've come up with this list of options:
Heartstopper (University AU): Ben Hope never got over his resentment towards Charly for moving on without him, and not only that, but for finding a guy much better than him, the damn Nick Nelson, with his huge muscles, thick pecs, and charming smile. Why shouldn't he steal his body? Two birds with one stone: he gets that godlike body and gets his perfect revenge on his ex.
Invincible: William is Mark's best friend, always loyal to him, with a great deal of affection and, at the same time, intense envy – his good physique, his powers, how good he looks in spandex… One day, while scrolling through the internet, Will was lucky enough to find a body-swap spell, and of course, he knows exactly who to use it on.
Pokémon: Giovanni, the leader of Team Rocket, is more than fed up with everyone meddling in his affairs, thwarting all his plans time and time again, so… why not start infiltrating the very side that's trying so hard to take him down? A visit to the Alola region and he already has in mind a certain “professor” to use as a means to his schemes.
Jurassic World: Peter is an intern who has just joined the ranks of Jurassic World as a geneticist. He's too skinny, too short, and has no luck with men whatsoever. However, after a failed experiment with pheromones and experimental InGen technology, he ends up waking up in the massive, monumental body of Owen Grady.
Marvel - Fantastic Four: Doom is fed up with the Fantastic Four meddling in everything he does—his plans, his rule in Latveria, everything. It's not the first time he's infiltrated the halls of Baxter Tower; he's already switched bodies with Reed Richards more than once. But… what if he sets his sights on the supernova-playboy of New York City?
Riverdale: Kevin has always… desired Archie. Nights and nights of spying on him with Betty have caused him to develop an almost obsessive crush on the redhead. With that sweaty body, his perfect pecs, his jawline—his entire physique of a favorite athlete—Kevin wants him for himself, and it seems fate is granting his wish, only not in the way he expected.
The Boys: Hughie has always been too skinny, pathetic, weak, and fragile compared to his teammates, his girlfriend, and by a wide margin compared to the heroes he wants to face. However, thanks to an experimental Compound V, the pathetic human wakes up in the body of SuperBoy, while the "hero" wakes up in the skinny human's body.
Marvel - Young Avengers: William and Tommy are the Scarlet Witch's lost sons, one a sorcerer like his mother while the other is a speedster, albeit somewhat... Reckless, overconfident in their powers and abilities, an arrogance that will lead them straight to the lair of a telepathic villain who will not have the slightest mercy in molding their minds to his liking.
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These are just a few ideas I have; you can vote for which one you like best.
Which idea do you like best?
Heartstopper
Invincible
Pokémon
Jurassic World
Marvel: Fantastic Four
Riverdale
The Boys
Marvel: Young Avengers
Voting ended onMay 18
Although, I'm always open to suggestions, so you can also tell me about other plots or characters (from series, movies, or other media) that you'd like to see in these situations (possession, body swapping, mind control). It would be great to chat with you. You can send them to my inbox, by message, or here in the comments. I'd love to hear your ideas, thanks!
CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.
Slipped: Delicacy
Previously in "Slipped": The alien group and Edmund were separated. While Blue, Red, and Pink, along with Edmund, took refuge in a fraternity mansion, Purple, White, and Black stayed behind, where they were ambushed. Before the attack, they managed to establish a mental connection with Pink, who gave them a single clue to reunite before the connection weakened: Delicacy. Slipped: Do You Read Me? We Are In Trouble
Meanwhile, the town of Greendale had been completely invaded by the same race as our group of protagonists, infecting all its inhabitants with saliva and other human fluids in order to gain control of the area and find the members of the resistance: Slipped - Invasion
White's mind was still racing, a jumble of memories about himself, the body he inhabited, the delicious scent that seeped from his armpit, inhaling it like an idiot.
— Hehe… – he murmured in a low, almost idiotic tone.
— Do you think this is okay? – Purple muttered into the darkness of the forest; dawn was almost upon us. Black just shrugged without saying a word, still carrying poor White, who had been subjected to a detachment process. He and his human host were still trying to form a fragile bond to recover. But until that happened, he would continue babbling nonsense, wriggling in Black's arms like a sleepy, unconscious puppy.
— My feet hurt. We've been walking all night. What's this supposed to be “delicacy”?! We should have told Pink to talk to Blue, or at least to Red! What the hell are we going to do?!
The three of them made slow progress. It turned out that sneaking through the forest was more difficult than they had thought. By sheer luck, they had managed to evade the Oblivarian forces and their darts; but it was like playing Russian roulette in the dark. One wrong step, and they would be back in their sights. Black kept his gaze fixed ahead, his brain trying to find the necessary clues to decipher the secret message. Delicacy? What could that be? Was it some kind of... gay code? He squinted; he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, that was more White's or Blue's domain, but with one completely out of it and the other who-knows-how-many miles away, he had no other choice.
He tried to get the gears turning in his head, but the fact that White's nose was insistently rubbing against his armpits and his new pecs wasn't helping much. He grunted, somewhat annoyed, trying to reposition him, but the other one always returned to the same position, rubbing and inhaling the guy's pungent armpit odor as if it were an addiction.
Like he was a... Wait a minute! Black swatted Purple's hand to make him turn around.
— Ouch! What's wrong with you?! These human feet are killing me!
The mute alien moved his hands, trying his best without letting go of his friend, tracing a few things on his palm, trying to form letters.
— G?
He nodded.
— And... N? – He shook his head – W? 30?
Black almost wanted to facepalm in frustration. He huffed, inhaling deeply and trying to relax as much as possible. He carefully laid White down on the damp grass to free his hands, then immediately raised his arms, flexing them forcefully, bulging and chubby. He pointed to his own smelly armpit. Purple looked at him, somewhat confused.
— Um... I think it's great that you're proud of the body you have now, buddy, but-
His patience ran out. The stronger one grabbed him by the nape of the neck and slammed him down, rubbing his nose hard to see if the stench would make his neurons work better. The leader gasped and whimpered a little, foolish and confused by the aroma that stung his nostrils but smelled so damn good. It reeked of dirty laundry, that earthy stench, heavy with testosterone, smelling like a dirty locker room and sweaty athletes, hehe... His eyes widened in shock.
He quickly pulled away, gasping for air, and wiped his nose on his forearm so the aroma wouldn't continue to mess with his neurons.
— Black! You're a genius, buddy!
Edmund paced back and forth inside the commercial premises, his nails now almost worn down to the quick, his nerves the only thing that filled his mind at that moment, anxious and on the verge of despair.
— Don't you think it's getting late? What if they found them? What if-
— Relax, will you? You're making me nervous – Red rolled his eyes, frustrated, and leaned back against the chair – They'll be here, they're fine, that's why they have Black with them, just breathe and- Will you stop pacing like a lost goat?!
— Sorry! I'm trying!
Pink watched all the chaos unfold from his comfortable position, simply taking photos and making sure to accentuate his hips while exercising in the middle of the "empty" gym.
It turned out that Pink's plan was to lead the others to nothing less than a gym. Why? They could get new bodies; it was like entering a store with elegant, fleshy suits. They could also regain strength, smell a little of this and that. If it tasted like ambrosia or delicacy, perhaps it could act the same way.
Besides, it was a discreet place, close to the forest. They could follow the memories of their own bodies or even their connection to Edmund. If they didn't want to attract too much attention, they just needed to close the doors. Or at least that would have been the best option before letting in several sweaty men who thought their day would be ordinary like any other, and who were now on the floor, groaning, sweating, their hardened tools pressed against their tight shorts.
— Mfhhhh – one of them grunted, shifting awkwardly. Red shushed him with his sweaty foot.
— Shh, how long do I have to keep you like this? Wouldn't it be better if you were doing something fun for us? – Red narrowed his eyes, thinking that watching so many guys lying around doing nothing was a waste of time.
— Not yet. We don't want anyone to know you're here. It would be weird to see people in the gym, but we don't let anyone in.
— So? You're wasting your time! Besides, where the hell is Blue?
It turned out that Blue was having a... little bit more fun. After all, there were so many bodies at his disposal that he could change as much as he wanted. Between guys with enormous pecs, biceps the size of grapefruits, sculpted abs, or glutes like a Greek god, it was a whole menu to drive him crazy going in and out of other bodies.
It was easy; he just had to enter through the mouth, and what better way to do it than through kisses? Whenever he got tired of one body and wanted to spice things up, he'd simply grab another one of those goofy jocks by the shoulders and kiss him intensely, their wet lips and tongues clashing like tectonic plates as his true slime form slid down one's throat, ready to take control of another, far more muscular body than the last.
And why was the one who was supposed to be the smartest, most withdrawn, thoughtful, and calmest of the six going crazy, trying out body after body after body? The answer was simple, and it boiled down to the only human in the place who hadn't fried his brain: Edmund.
Blue wouldn't say it out loud, but he definitely found him attractive, with that gentle smile, the shape of his defined curls, the bright copper color of his eyes that seemed to sparkle like dawn when the sun hit them. He knew he'd only known him for a few days, and they hadn't exactly started off on the right foot (damn, he'd even been inside him), but his heart raced just thinking about him, his laugh, the scent of his body. And let's just say... being in sync with him for a while felt like being in paradise. Besides, he'd given him access to his memories, and with that, the key to which bodies he liked best was unlocked.
— Maybe... Too old – he grimaced as he flexed his biceps inside a man who looked about... 35? He had no idea. He had good muscles, a good face, smooth skin, and great pecs, like pillows, but even so, he felt he was too much for Edmund.
— Now so skinny – the saliva of the previous guy was still imprinted on his new lips. The guy had a good body, but it just wasn't… what he was looking for. He wanted more muscle, juicy pecs along with a nice ass, and huge biceps!
His heart pounded with excitement and at the same time a little… Fear.
Like any species throughout the universe, and even on planet Earth, the Oblivarians had certain... physiological needs that were triggered by certain astrological phenomena, where their legs trembled, their hearts raced, their stomachs churned, and... Ugh! What if he was just in heat and not in love?!
He'd never felt like this before. They hadn't even known each other for a week, and it wasn't as if Oblivara had a concept of love at first sight. It was all... chemistry, trust, and mental processes, if that.
He nervously clung to the bathroom sink inside the behemoth he now possessed, feeling like his air was being drained like a cruel revelation. He tried to inhale again, his knees trembling. He wanted to push aside those intrusive thoughts. Besides, even if he did, he'd still have to connect with the hive mind of Oblivara; it was a mandatory process for finding a mate, like a lighthouse beam in the darkness, and that hadn't happened yet. He inhaled again, trying to regain his composure. He took a step back, and as soon as he lifted himself from the sink, it was as if everything spun around him. His massive body stumbled backward, slamming against the floor as he shook, his eyes rolling back, his mouth half-open with saliva dripping, his movements erratic as his mind filled with visions.
Hundreds of muscular men, now possessed by the planet's military, drooling over cookies and other food. Others of their race were forcing their way in through any available orifice. University students, workers, parents – every person within a 20-kilometer radius now had their brains completely melted – with another being in control of their bodies.
Blue let out another confused gasp, his body twitching on the gym floor, writhing like a larva. His eyes opened and closed again like malfunctioning blinds, his brain short-circuiting, the consciousness of almost the entire town merging with that of his extraterrestrial colleagues, their sweaty bodies at the mercy of beings who wouldn't stop for a second until they found them.
Blue's mind raced, he could see through the eyes of each controlled human, how they explored their new bodies, how some adapted better than others who seemed inhibited by their new forms while others flexed their massive biceps, forcing each other to sniff their pestilent armpits, the slobbery kisses that impregnated parasitic lackeys in the mouths of other uninfected humans, the force they used to dominate others and accelerate the invasion, how they moved from side to side, perhaps a few blocks away, to other gyms where the sweaty types hadn't fallen into the first infection trap and were now being forcibly dominated.
The invasion they had worked so hard to stop far from that planet, that planetary system, was now at their doorstep. The home of the guy who intrigued and excited him so much, soon to be ablaze.
— Find the human and the device, right now – One of the highest-ranking lieutenants, who occupied the body of a burly athlete, snarled. His sleeveless shirt, perfect for showing off his enormous biceps, his armpits hairy and sweaty, was bulging.
They wouldn't stand a chance against them. The team’s doctor tried to shout a warning, but only managed a clumsy yell. He tried again to speak, but a gasp escaped his lips.
He wanted to warn Edmund, Red, anyone. They had to leave, escape, fast. He crawled again, trying to sever the mental connection, but it was useless. His feet wouldn't respond, the visions wouldn't stop. He tried to put his hands in, but collapsed again. The back door of the building began to rattle, as if someone were trying to force it open. Strong, muscular shoulders clashed like the horns of a bull, determined to break down the door. Blue swallowed hard.
This was the end.
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Hey everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.
I know I haven't posted anything about Slipped in a really, really long time, haha, but I hope this short chapter reignites your interest in the plot.
A very dear follower suggested I introduce "contexts" into the stories to make it easier to pick up where the longer plots left off, so people don't get lost. I hope that with this new addition to the series, it will be much easier to follow along, but please tell me: Do you think this idea is good? Or in this particular chapter, did it work better to guide you and spark your interest?
It helps?
Yeah, a lot
A litte bit
Not really
Voting ended onMay 15
I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.
Black Magic
Jason had had the worst experience in high school. He always felt an indescribable rage when other people talked about how "amazing" that stage of life was – the friends, the popularity, the parties, or how "alive" it had made them feel, that if they could, they would relive it all again to be just as happy. But for him, high school was nothing but hell, along with the small town of Watersburg in southern Wisconsin.
And all because of one damn person: Michael Roberts. He was the high school quarterback, the typical golden boy, with a radiant smile, perfect hair, varsity jackets, always with a football in his hand, and with that attitude that made girls melt for him like butter in the summer sun.
He was an asshole, never missing a single opportunity to put "fatty" Jason in his place, in his own words. Mocking his glasses, the pimples on his face, how tight his clothes were, or how clumsy he sometimes was, the two extra years of "maturity" he was supposed to have were useless. It was always the same cycle of torture, day after day: mocking him, taking his lunch money, giving him wedgies, or humiliating him in front of everyone in the cafeteria. Once, he even shoved his face in the toilet and urinated on him from head to toe. Poor Jason had no choice but to transfer to another high school in the same town while the teachers and the principal turned a blind eye because Michael was a sports prodigy, the pride of the school. How could they allow themselves to lose him? If they had to… "sacrifice" one of their “piglets”, so be it.
High school ended for Michael, who left his small hometown to reach for the stars at universities like Alabama and Georgia, both vying for him – the big leagues. He showed no remorse for ruining the life of a poor guy who… Wouldn't leave that foolish town that had made his life a living hell. The hostility from others, always because of his appearance, his extra weight, or even his sexual orientation, was a constant companion. Unfortunately for him, Jason's family had to take a "small" amount from his college fund for some minor household expenses that gradually increased like a leaky roof during the rainy season. What began as a three-figure loan kept growing until there was nothing left, not even enough for community college. With nothing else to do, Jason had no choice but to take a job at a fast-food restaurant, enduring the same derogatory comments, the same disdainful attitudes, wearing a uniform that clung to his body, making him look like some poorly wrapped deli meat, his fat spilling out, his pecs sagging, his belly spilling out, and damn, it didn't help that now his hands, his hair, his entire body, always smelled of oil and french fries.
He hated his life. But more than anything, he hated Michael with all his heart, like a dark vortex that infected everything it touched: high school, the town, his life. The pay wasn't much either; he earned minimum wage, still living at his parents' house. What did he have that was worth staying in that world? He had no friends, much less a boyfriend. Why not just end this pathetic charade? The night he was ready to cut it all off, a strange message appeared on his laptop screen.
« Tired of the life you have? Fed up with never getting what you deserve or making those who deserve it pay? Why not try a little... Black Magic? »
Fifteen years had passed since then Michael's life, unlike Jason's, had skyrocketed, explosively, always upward, heading for success and the stars. And although he hadn't ended up with a great career in sports, as was his original goal, he had ended up leading an excellent corporation that made his wallet even fatter than his tool!
He was an arrogant jerk who thought the world owed him something for every single breath of precious air he took. His physique had improved dramatically; his jet-black hair and those striking, toned Asian features made him look like a marble statue, the world at his feet at a mere thirty-three years old. Although all that time seemed to have gone down the drain in terms of respect and empathy for others, for him, other people were simply filler characters in his grand life.
Women were nothing more than walking objects, perfect for him to worship with her mouths or for him to use for hours.
Men weaker, shorter, or uglier than him were the target of his constant mockery, and let's just say… the atmosphere at his workplace wasn't the best. He was always making cruel and hurtful comments about other people's bodies, giving his opinion on "second-hand clothes", commenting on weight, complexion. Michael was like a magnifying glass, detecting other people's flaws, everything they were insecure about, everything that hurt them about themselves, he exploited it mercilessly.
And gay men? Pfft, those were the ones he dislakes the most. If he found out that someone in his office was a fucking ass-kisser, he'd fire him in a snap of his fingers without giving too many details.
Many were the lives that Michael had ruined, one after another, just like Jason's, without a shred of conscience or even any concern. If others were pathetic losers, that was their business. He was practically a god, and that was all that mattered.
Right now, he was back in his luxury car, driving down a highway toward his hometown of Watersburg for his class reunion, the fifteenth anniversary of graduating high school. The faculty had invited him to give a motivational talk to the new generation of students, those about to graduate who needed a beacon of light in the darkness.
Did Michael care? Of course not, ha. Why would he care about a bunch of poor, pathetic high school guys who weren't even in his league? But what he did care about, and what he loved like ambrosia, was the admiration; he wanted all those fools fawning over him, asking him how to "be like him". That was what he truly wanted: to have them wrapped around his little finger.
And incidentally, he wanted to know what had happened to the rest of his graduating class so he could mock them even more. He knew some had ended up in low-paying jobs, others with bad investment decisions that had left them bankrupt, and still others had started families, at the cost of losing their good physiques. He couldn't wait to see his former rival on the playing field! Rumors said he'd had an accident on the court and that, as a result, he'd gained weight like a damn walrus, haha!
Although before all that, Michael was feeling quite "thirsty". An advertisement for a bar three kilometers away made him step on the gas at the thought of a good cold beer and some busty girl to hang out with.
He parked his convertible next to some scooters, got out, locked the door, and went inside. It looked like any other dive bar: the counter, neon lights, a few leather-clad bikers gathered around a single table. He was about to leave when he saw her: sitting at the bar, curly blonde hair, bright red lips, perfectly made up but not so much that she looked ridiculous. It was something more… subtle, elegant. She wore a low-cut dress and the bottom of the dress was short enough to reveal her gorgeous legs. Her feet were adorned with stilettos. She looked stunning, sipping a cosmopolitan, lost in what seemed to be her own thoughts.
Without a doubt, it was his lucky night. No one could resist him. He could have any woman he wanted at his feet with just a smile. He exuded charisma and confidence; it was no wonder he was a beast in business too. It would be like a weekend afternoon stroll.
— Hey, hi – he whispered, sitting down next to her and ordering a martini – Did your boyfriend leave you to go to the bathroom or something?
— Oh, no – She let out a soft laugh, smoothing her hair. To Michael, that was the most angelic voice the earth had ever heard. She smoothed her hair, taking another sip of her drink – I don't have a boyfriend, I'm single.
— Then all the better for me. My name is Michael, it's nice to meet you – He took her hand lightly and kissed her torso. She just smiled.
— My name is Jasonna, Jasonna Carpenter.
— Carpenter? That last name sounds familiar... Are you from around here? Did you go to this high school?
— I'm afraid not. I'm relatively new to town. I only arrived about five years ago, but maybe it's a pretty common last name, don't you think?
The man tried to think more about why that name seemed familiar, but ended up dismissing the idea, much to the relief of his foolish, arrogant brain.
— Do you mind if I buy you a drink?
Michael and Jasonna spent the night together, round after round of drinks, a silent witness as they got to know each other, and Michael couldn't be more charmed by the woman in front of him. Her laughter seemed melodious, her voice calm, exuding femininity. He had never thought about settling down, but with a woman like that, things changed… At some point during the night, some of Michael's acquaintances arrived at the bar. I wouldn't exactly call them "friends", because no one was on his level to be considered an equal, but… perhaps "lapdogs" would be a better word to describe them.
They talked for a while, and Michael even tried to introduce them to Jasonna, but she preferred to stay at the bar.
— Relax, tiger. It's your night, have fun, I'll be waiting here and maybe… We can have some fun, don't you think? – the seductive tone between her lips escaped like midnight smoke, her hand with perfectly manicured nails slipped down to the outline of his pants and began to caress it. The man's gaze was fixed on those velvety lips that begged to be kissed, all while his “acquaintances” looked on with a touch of puzzlement.
There wasn't even time to say goodbye; they barely managed to pay the bill before heading to Jasonna's house, which was just a few blocks away. The more time passed, the more Michael loved this woman: confident, beautiful, strong, and powerful like a tornado rising up, letting her hands fly in the wind above the hood of the car. They didn't take long to arrive. It was a lovely house, with white trim, pastel blue wood paneling, and a beautiful front garden. Jasonna was the first to get out, making sure to sway her hips the whole way from the patio to the entrance as she slid the key in.
— So… are you coming in, or what?
Michael's memories from that moment on were blurry. He remembered the room, warm, clean, softly lit, and with a soft, perfect bed where he quickly began to undress, his abs and pecs, which he was so proud of, now exposed. The beauty he had just found, lying on the bed, with that soft smile, her dress practically begging him to show her what it meant to be a real man, pulled her down onto the bed, slipping his hand between her legs
The best “action” of his life, the warmth of her body and her insides, the gasps begging for more, the pleas for his immense penis not to leave her. Hours and hours had intoxicated him more and more until he lost consciousness.
The next thing Michael remembered was waking up in what seemed to be a park, inside his car, his clothes half-undone but still on, a mess from the whirlwind that had engulfed him the night before. He leaned back in the seat with a satisfied smile, patting his “champion”.
His stomach began to rumble; it seemed like someone wanted to eat after a wild night, right? He just smiled to himself, remembering everything he had done, every gasp, every moan. In normal times, his tool would already be swollen, practically oozing rivers, but at that moment, it was limp. Completely dark, as if the power had been cut.
He tried not to make a big deal of it; maybe someone needed to rest after filling that bitch with his milk! Hahaha. He started the car, and as soon as the engine roared beneath him, a strange gasp escaped his lips from the vibration against his ass. He cleared his throat, puzzled, trying to ignore what had just happened; it was… a hangover.
He started driving through the streets of his old town. Everything seemed the same as before, although things were very different now, with him far away, a business tycoon. He noticed a coffee shop in the distance, so he parked, soon finding his ass pressed against the counter. It looked somewhat… empty.
To his surprise, the usual pretty waitresses were off duty; perhaps instead, there were some male waiters, some slim, and as strange as it seemed, Michael's gaze kept wandering over their legs and butts. He tried to think it was just because of the "similarity" between their bodies; if there weren't any waitresses with nice hips, he could enjoy these guys and their slender bodies for a while, right? Wait, what the hell had he just said?
— What are you going to order? – A completely different-looking guy stood next to him, practically throwing the menu at him and growling. He seemed imposing, with a huge belly and a grumpy face. On any other day, Michael would have already responded, asked to speak to his manager, or pointed out his flaws, but now, he was blank, as if his tongue had been eaten.
— I... Um… – He tried to think of something, but his thoughts kept tumbling over each other. He felt smaller than ever before, incredibly insignificant. The other man just looked at him with increasing exasperation as he listened to him babble.
— Come on, man, I don't have time for this crap. Are you going to order something or not?
— Um, I-I w-want…
— I'll tell you what you want: fried eggs with bacon. That way you'll stop wasting my time – Michael wanted to refuse the order. He hated eggs, the taste of bacon made him nauseous, too dry and greasy, but he only mumbled a "thank you" before lowering his head and hiding his hands between his legs as if he'd been scolded.
The worst came when his dish was finally delivered.
— Eat it – the gorilla seemed to snarl, and instead of refusing it or at least just paying and leaving, he found himself picking up his silverware, trembling as he broke off pieces of food and brought the spoon to his mouth, bite after bite until it was all gone, feeling the nausea rise in his throat.
What the hell was happening to him today? Was he... high? That had to be it. What other fucking explanation was there for him acting so strange?
— Are you going to leave a tip or not? – Again, that hostile treatment. He felt furious inside. How dare some damn waiter talk to him like that? Who did he think he was? – It would be stingy of you not to leave at least three times your meal.
Michael kept staring at him, like someone who fears an authority figure, and with trembling lips, he pulled out his wallet, took out almost six $100 bills, and slipped them onto the table, not daring to say another word. The waiter just gave a mocking smile, stuffed the money into his apron, and left, not without whispering the word "stupid" under his breath.
The former athlete stood up and left the restaurant as quickly as possible, running to the safety of his car and locking himself inside. His heart was racing, his hands felt numb, and a strange tingling sensation settled in his legs. He didn't understand anything that was happening, he didn't understand what was happening to him. He inhaled slowly and exhaled with the same calmness; even his forehead was covered in sweat.
— Relax... Everything... Everything's fine – he nodded to himself with a smile before pulling his latest-generation phone from his pocket. There was always a way to feel better about himself; it never failed him. When his football team lost due to his teammates' incompetence, he always did this: watch “movies”. Why? It was quite simple, really.
His enormous tool always sprang up almost instantly, thick, big, and veiny, huge as a beer can. He could “handwork” for hours before finally coming in a massive tsunami of thick, smelly substance that assured his (apparently fragile) masculinity. That never had let him down.
At least until that day, no matter how many times he watched it, he couldn't get hard. Flaccid, dry as the desert.
— Come on, shit, what's wrong with you today? – he grunted in frustration, maybe… He needed to clear his head, he had to find a hotel to stay in for the week that was planned with the anniversary event and the conference he was going to give at the high school.
But as the days went by, the “symptoms” worsened, and rapidly. No matter how much scenes he watched, he couldn't get a single elevation, not even the slightest hardening. Moaning didn't turn him on, nor the sound of hair being pulled, shit, not even the memories of that night with Jasonna! It was like… he had erectile dysfunction. HIM! HIM HAVING ERECTIVE DYSFUNCTION! The same man who could sleep with four different women in a single day without the slightest problem, hanging like a bull but unable to maintain a hard-on.
He had even resorted to Viagra! And that didn't work either. He was going crazy. What was he supposed to do? Maybe the worst part wasn't even taking the pill and it not working; the worst part was going to order it!
He looked like a schoolgirl embarrassed to ask for condoms or something, his cheeks flushed, sweat dripping all over his body, and hesitating over a damn pill! How was he supposed to give the presentation if he couldn't even talk to one person?! He was going to wet his pants!
But still, what would he do about the anniversary party? How was he going to brag to his former classmates that he was a fucking star if he couldn't even be confident in what he said?
Michael didn't even notice, but even his posture had changed in the last few days, becoming timid, his hands always clasped together, hunched over as if he were wearing a turtle shell, his gaze downcast, and his feet always crossed. There was no trace left of that greatness he used to boast about; he seemed nervous and scared all the time, looking around, even the roar of his engine frightened him.
And the worst part of all? It was how he was starting to notice other men and how he acted around them. A traffic officer had barely stopped him to check his papers. The heavy seatbelt clanging along with the license plate, his shoulders back, and the warm summer air after a long workday had made him even more nervous, but it wasn't fear. It was something else he didn't quite understand, but it made his heart race, made him swallow hard, and made him say stupid things.
His gaze didn't go to their eyes or their faces, not even their clothes or the flaws he was so used to being agile about. Instead, his gaze lingered on their pecs, how their biceps were defined, their legs, those fat, smelly buttocks… Ugh!
Even on one of the many nights when he wanted his "soldier" back in action, he found himself staring at the guy in the film, at how his perfect abs looked. His gaze kept returning to that enormous tool. He didn't care about the woman's mouth or whether she was giving him the best job of her career. He was more focused and preoccupied with how those defined pecs looked, those biceps of a Greek demigod, his dominant and masculine grunts, his moans and gasps – his alone. He had to turn off his phone as soon as he felt himself starting to get hard. He was getting hard over a guy?!
Something was wrong with him. He was… broken, sick. But how had this happened? Just a few days ago he'd been fine. What the hell had happened? He was trying to clear his mind while sipping a cup of coffee at a local café. Luckily, the same grumpy waiter from before was off duty, and even though beautiful waitresses were milling about, offering coffees and swaying their skirts, nothing seemed to work on him.
— Michael? – He heard a familiar voice and several footsteps behind him. He had to turn around to see some former members of his high school sports team there. His blood ran cold the moment they sat down at the table. He had no choice but to move aside to let them sit – Woah, we haven't seen you in years. How have you been?
His eager gaze wandered among them. Some had maintained their physiques, others had gained a little weight, but far from mentally criticizing them, he seemed... to be charmed. One of them had developed a beer belly; his shirt was so tight it looked like a button was about to pop off, but even so, he watched with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness how he looked, his thick thighs pressed against the equally tight jeans.
Others had a glimpse of their pecs, broad and sculpted from years of gym workouts, their abs… It seemed he'd even developed a super sense of smell or something, noticing how everyone's stench accumulated, however faint, yet still noticeable, heavy and acrid. His leg trembled; he tried to keep it still, but it was useless.
— T-thanks – he said, clutching the mug, smiling as best he could. Not even the most innocent girl he'd ever met acted like this. It was pathetic.
— Is everything… alright? Are you feeling okay?
— Yes, everything's fine – he whispered, his voice like a thread, taut and tiny. What would he do with the attention of so many men? So muscular, smelly, and… UGH!
— You look strange, man. Are you sure you're okay? – They all exchanged glances, as if they wanted to lay bare a secret they weren't sure how to handle – We… We saw you at that bar the other night.
— Bar?… – Finally, the threads connected: the bar, Jasonna, the passionate night. This was his chance to rub it in these idiots' faces that a woman that beautiful was interested in him, that he had her wrapped around his little finger – Of course, wasn't she gorgeous?
His friends remained silent, swallowing hard, unsure how to proceed.
— Um… Michael, are you gay? – The question hit him like a bucket of ice water. What had they just said? His blood began to boil. How could they ask him such a stupid question? Gay? Not in a million years. He was straight as an arrow, he loved women, he was a real man. How dare they insult him like that? But instead of responding, he just tripped over his own words, his tongue twitching – I mean, if you are, it doesn't matter, you're our friend anyway.
— I-I…
— We saw you with that guy, you were so… excited, you kept grabbing his buttock.
Guy? Buttocks? What the hell? – Michael tried to piece together all his memories. Was he… high? No, he remembered her silhouette perfectly when she walked into the bar, her hair, the fruity perfume scent, her dress, her crimson red lips. There was no way he could have imagined a woman. She was real, she was a woman!
Michael slid out of the bar in a panic and headed for his car. It couldn't be true. He started driving like a madman through the streets. He might have been drunk that day, but he remembered perfectly how to get there. Contacting her again wasn't in his plans; it was part of his "charm": in and out, no strings attached, a good night and then the feelings were gone. A tiger like him couldn't be caged.
He drove through the streets one after another, his heart still pounding with anticipation as the neighboring houses drew closer. The memory of the facade was fresh: white trim, pastel blue siding, and a beautiful front garden.
But when he arrived at where that house was supposed to be, something different greeted him. The pastel blue siding was worn, the garden neglected and withered, the white trim almost looked grayer from wear, the door was gnawed. What the hell was this neighborhood? He tried to move forward or backward a little, maybe he had the wrong house, maybe it was just a similar one, but even though he circled the entire block three times, he kept coming back to the same address, the same number, the same layout.
He got out of the car, nervous. He knocked on the door, his legs trembling. He waited longer, but there was no answer. He knocked again, and the door opened a crack.
— Hello? Jasonna? Is anyone home? – He waited for a response, but again, only silence. He walked in slowly, the wood creaking beneath his feet. He looked around. This wasn't the house he remembered. This was a… pigsty.
The smell of dirty laundry filled his nostrils, mixed with… fried food? Everything looked worn, old, and worn. There were even photos on the walls of a… man?
Damn, did Jasonna have a husband? Or a brother? Nothing made sense. What was this place?
If you're enjoying what you're reading, the continuation can be found on my Patreon.
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Hey everyone!
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I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.
Mock Me Now
— What the hell is wrong with you, dude?! That's my body, you should take care of it!
— Nah, just shut up and let me eat, idiot – "Zane" growled, two giant hamburgers, fries, and a milkshake in front of him. He was wearing only a white tank top that showed off his bulging arms and his hairy, smelly armpits – I don't know what body you're talking about, “Fatrick”. Maybe all that fat fried your brain.
Patrick, a fatter guy with pimples, a unibrow, and in terrible shape, watched as his main bully started stuffing himself with food, chewing the fries like a beast, gulping down the milkshake, and crushing the hamburger between his fingers like it was a giant. He watched the scene in horror. Largely because of one single detail: That wasn't Patrick, and that wasn't Zane either.
Instead, they were in each other's bodies. Neither knew how they'd ended up like that, but Patrick was undoubtedly the one who benefited the most: He'd lost all the fat accumulated in his arms, belly, legs, and his unpleasant double chin, replaced by Zane's enormous muscles, brimming with vigor, strength, and attractiveness. He felt like a superhero! Perfect hair, a charismatic smile, not an inch of belly, just biceps and more biceps! And the best part: He could finally give Zane what he deserved.
He was always teasing him with that hurtful nickname: "Fatrick". He was an idiot, and Patrick was fed up. He wanted revenge. And now was the perfect time and way to get it.
— He, no! You're going to make them think I'm a fat idiot like you! Maddison's coming to see me and-
Zane tried to pull his old body away from the table, but its new owner swatted him off, sending him sprawling on his buttocks. A sound like a massive wave crashing onto the shore echoed through the cafeteria. People turned to look, whispering amongst themselves, chuckling softly. It wasn't the first time "Zane" had been bothering "Patrick" (or so everyone else saw).
— Don't lay a finger on me, you pig! – The new Zane's eyes flashed with malice. The new Patrick lay on the floor, horrified by the humiliation, his jaw clenched. The other man leaned closer to whisper in a low voice, so no one else would notice – And just to be clear, you can forget about Maddison and any other girl you have in your repertoire. This body is now only for guys to keep their eyes and hands on – He flexed his arm arrogantly, making sure to show off his armpit in the process, even running his fingers along the area before putting them in his mouth. Zane watched in disgust everything the other man was doing to his body. He wanted to protest, but all he got in return was the milkshake dripping from his head down his body, whipped cream splattered in his hair, his face turning red as laughter filled the room. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth at the mocking gaze of the former Patrick – Now get lost, fatty.
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CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.
Jacked In
For the city of Starbrook, the newly implemented plan to improve security was beginning to take shape. While other cities were focusing on improving the rigor of their operations, purchasing better patrol vehicles, increasing the budget for incentives, or even better uniforms and work equipment, this city was betting on something far more innovative and unconventional.
The plan was quite simple: what good was improving the security fund if the police officers were still the same chubby men who choked on donuts at five in the afternoon? Most of them had neglected their physical fitness at some point in their careers due to laziness, injury, or job stress. They needed new members – younger, more agile, stronger, and more fearless. But the town's youth weren't so keen on the idea of such a rigorous and dangerous job with few benefits. So, what was the solution? Well, it was quite simple.
Project Gemini allowed police officers to acquire new bodies with improved physiques – more muscular, agile, faster, younger and fitter – perfect for putting aside their bad eating habits and vices with alcohol or tobacco so they could perform their jobs better. Meanwhile, the police station could save a few bucks on raises and other benefits because, let's face it, who wouldn't love to have a much better body?
Perhaps the word "young" wasn't the best way to describe it, since some members of the force weren't even forty yet, but, the chance to experience a new body, whether slimmer or, conversely, much more muscular, with strong, rock-hard arms, well-defined abs, and pecs as big as melons so the uniform fit so snugly, was better than any promotion.
Or even for those who weren't so keen on being a walking brick wall, there were also more… slender options. With those suits that looked more like the work uniforms of certain, uh… dancers; but honestly, that was the least important thing (it was almost a plus), they could… work better… Yes… And, people would cooperate more with them, be more receptive, quite a sensation.
Each officer was assigned a new body, which had been refurbished to serve as projection capsules, all residing in a special part of the precinct. They had no consciousness or mind of their own; some belonged to criminals, others to people who had “lost their way”, or other circumstances that made them perfect to return to serving society in the right hands.
And best of all! Even the officers could occupy those bodies during some hours off-duty, to let them have a little fun, take that “convertible” for a spin, show off their new muscles, go flirting a bit, or spend time with friends or whatever they want.
— Damn, Bryson, you really hit the jackpot with that body – One of the newest members of the force couldn't keep his eyes off the lieutenant's muscular physique, everything in its right place, tight, with huge pecs and an impressive smile. It turned out that this body belonged to a con artist who dedicated a lot of time to his physique, like a gym rat.
— Right? I'm actually starting to feel so comfortable here. My back doesn't hurt a damn, we can stop the bad guys faster, and I can have all the fun I want – He grinned, stretching his legs a little more. The patrol car now seemed so damn tiny with that behemoth's body, but damn, he loved that warm scent that emanated from him as soon as he took off his boots.
— With... Your wife, right?
— Oh, yeah, sure, sure, my wife – He smiled somewhat ironically. Officer Bryson wouldn't waste a second with that bitch! Ha! It turned out he was a closeted gay man, and he hadn't given himself the chance to experiment or even see the green grass next door because of fear. His physique wasn't the best; he felt the years had taken their toll and that, besides, he was already too old for that kind of thing. But now, with that good body, his tight uniform, and his confidence, he would be nothing short of an unstoppable beast in the field of conquests.
Everyone was happy and content with their bodies, new beginnings, new identities, the fervor for a new tomorrow. They had all the "containers" counted, protected, and assigned to each officer. Nothing could go wrong. Right? It was a foolproof plan.
— Mfhh…
— Shut up, you fucking dog – the body assigned to the police chief muttered, tugging at what appeared to be a leash on a scrawny fellow, so pathetic and mentally mushy that he could barely gasp and stick his tongue out like an idiot as he stared at his "master" in front of him. Leather boots, matching his suit of the same material, made him look imposing and powerful, creaking at the slightest movement. But there was just one small but crucial detail… That pathetic "dog" on the floor was the real police chief.
It turned out that the new upgrade had created a perfect way for mafia infiltrators to access the entire police station infrastructure and become part of it in the blink of an eye. No more bribes, no more moles, not even "good cadets" trained from the start to later serve in the shadows. They just had to take possession of those deliciously meaty suits, and the job would be done. They wouldn't even need low-level informants; they could send in important figures of power to do the job properly.
— Sir – another new police officer burst into the room, his leather jacket squeaking with every movement, mingled with the scent of cologne, the morning stench of exercise, and the very essence of that muscular body – We already have five more undercover agents inside the station. The plan is underway.
— Perfect – the Mafia boss, Luca Tribianni, twisted a satisfied smile onto the body of the man who was supposed to be the chief of police. He loved the feeling of power and youth emanating from him, so damn strong. He no longer had to worry about back pain, his body betraying him with age, or having to hand the family business over to one of his stupid sons. He could take matters into his own hands and control it as only he knew how.
The police would never interfere with his plans again, and if any of his agents dared to do so or pry too deeply, they would simply be… removed from duty, haha.
— Now, Maloney. Why don't you come over and… we'll discover what your body has to offer in the “field of action”?
The capo smiled with that expression brimming with arrogance and lust, settling into the chair and spreading his legs wide, his shapely thighs pressed against his cordovan trousers, further highlighting the outline of his "big nightstick".
— It will be an honor, sir – His right hand smiled, slamming the door shut for amusement.
The perfect infiltration.
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Hey everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.
I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
