The Pervert in MY Body pt.1
A sequel to The Pervert Next Door
I’d been paranoid for weeks, scanning every face at the gym, triple-checking the locks on my door, barely sleeping. But after a savage chest and arms session tonight, I was exhausted. I let my guard down for five fucking minutes. I was taking physique photos in the gym, proud of my current physique.
The old man was waiting by my locker.
Greasy gray hair, sunken yellow eyes, wrinkled skin hanging off his bones, smelling like stale piss and decay. He grinned at me with rotting teeth.
“Cooper said you’d be even better than him,” he rasped.
I tried to run, but he moved faster than he had any right to. He lifted his hands as if to stop me, spouting some incoherent phrases as I was stopped dead in my tracks by an invisible force.
The world flipped violently.
One second I was tall, strong, pumped full of blood and power. The next, I was small. Frail. My back screamed in pain. My hands were liver-spotted and shaking. I looked down at a sunken chest covered in patchy gray hair and a tiny, shriveled cock tucked into stained sweatpants.
“No… NO!” I screamed, but it came out as a weak, pathetic old man’s croak.
Across the locker room, my real body straightened up slowly. My handsome face stretched into a filthy, leering grin that didn’t belong there. Strong hands ran down my own chest, squeezing my thick pecs through my singlet, sliding over my abs, then running his hands over his stolen growing erection.
“Fuuuuck yes,” the old man groaned in my deep, smooth voice.
“This body is perfect, Tom. So young. So fucking strong.”
I was trapped in his disgusting shell, forced to watch as he explored every inch of what used to be mine. He flexed my arms in the mirror, bounced my pecs, turned around to admire my ass, spreading the cheeks with my own hands while still jerking my cock.
“Please… that’s my body,” I begged with his raspy voice, tears running down wrinkled cheeks.
“Not anymore, Tommy boy.” He laughed, deep and cruel, using my voice. “Cooper’s been loving his new life. Getting railed every night. Begging for more. You’re gonna be just like him.”
“Welcome to your new life, kid.”
He shot was last quick flex of my arms as he turned, grabbed my gym gear and walked out of the gym, leaving me standing alone in his disgusting form.
Within the first twelve hours, the notifications started flooding in.
My phone buzzed nonstop. Selfies from my body flooded the screen: my shirtless reflection in a fancy hotel mirror, abs glistening, thick cock half-hard in my favorite shorts. Another one of me flexing in the bathroom, my own handsome face smirking arrogantly. Then a video, my stolen hand slowly stroking my cock while moaning in my voice, “Fuck Tommy, this dick feels so much better when I’m the one using it.”
The final text came with a picture of me lounging on a couch, teasing my bulge, captioned:
“Already going out tonight, slut. Cooper can’t wait to meet the new you 😈”
I stared at the messages from my own number, trapped in the old man’s disgusting body, my tiny useless cock twitching helplessly as humiliation burned through me.
Part 2 can be found here!
