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.
Christmas Exchange
— Holy shit! – Harlon stared at himself with fascination, flexing his muscles in the tight red spandex. His gaze was eager and somewhat hungry as he looked at himself, licking his lips with a certain amusement. Although that wasn't quite the Harlon Wikson he knew. But to tell the whole story, one must start from the beginning.
The Wikson family used to be very close, especially around Christmas time. It consisted of Harlan, a widower and father of two college-aged children, and Rolan, the eldest, a successful athlete with a girlfriend who was a cheerleader on the official cheerleading squad.
And then there was Caspian, thinner and more scrawny, who preferred books and artistic pursuits to strenuous sports. He also had a couple, only he was... well, another guy. Blake was his name. With a tan complexion, jet-black hair, a good pair of muscles, and a somewhat daring attitude.
It was the first time any of the sons had brought someone else to Christmas dinner, and to make matters “worse”, it was... well, a guy. Harlon wasn't homophobic, but seeing one of his sons with another man wasn't exactly what he expected.
— Are you sure Dad won't disinherit you or something? – Rolan asked his brother as they set the table. Their father pretended not to hear them from the kitchen.
— I hope not. I know it's kind of... complicated, but Blake's a good guy, and we've been together for almost two years. I wanted to introduce him and make it official. You know?
— I get it, bro. I'd bring Jen too if she didn't have to be at her parents' house. I support you, though... try to go as calmly as possible with Dad. Okay?
The man gripped the sleeve with the turkey juice too tightly and had to put it down for a moment, bringing his hand to his forehead. How would he handle the situation? His wife, who was no longer with them, was supposed to know how to deal with these things. He didn't want to be rude to Caspian or his... “friend”, but the news that his youngest son was gay and, moreover, in a relationship, hadn't been the best way to start Christmas Eve.
He wanted to be a good father, to support him and love him unconditionally, but he felt that the situation was partly overwhelming him. He wanted to understand him, he really did; he went over to one of the display cases in the house, taking a snow globe in his hands to shake it. He often did that to find answers or comfort when he didn't quite know what to do about fatherhood.
— I just want to understand him better – he murmured softly, watching the snow and silver glitter fall and float in the magical orb.
He sighed again, then went back to the kitchen to finish dinner. Blake arrived around eight o'clock at night wearing a white tank top, a navy blue cap, and a demeanor far too relaxed for Harlon's liking. This was supposed to be a formal, family affair, not a damn basketball game.
— Welcome – he muttered. The burly athlete smiled warmly and shook his hand.
— It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I appreciate you having me today. My parents are in another country, and these holidays are usually lonely for me. Thank you – The guy had a slight Hispanic accent, a friendly demeanor, but... Shit. Was that sweat? Harlon had to restrain himself from wincing at the overpowering stench of sweat and testosterone emanating from the man.
— Darling! – Caspian shouted before throwing himself into the guy's arms. His father noticed the size difference, as if the other man could easily crush his son. The displays of affection between them made him somewhat uneasy, seeing his son so... delicate.
Caspian's behavior wasn't exactly a new phenomenon. Yes, he was more effeminate and delicate than other guys his age, with a high-pitched voice, a colorful wardrobe, and pop music constantly playing on his phone. But seeing them was one thing, having them both so close was quite another. Blake's chest practically pressed against his face, his hands anxious, unsure where to rest, that gaze heavy with desire…
— Why don't we just go straight to dinner? – Harlon had to intervene. Caspian nodded, taking his boyfriend's hand so he could sit down. Rolan just raised an eyebrow at the guy and his extravagant attire.
The evening progressed as expected, with a few stumbles, like an awkward conversation about who was the man and who was the woman in Caspian and Blake's relationship, but also some successes, like the nearly thirty-minute conversation between Rolan and his brother's boyfriend about sports.
But every time he saw them holding hands, whispering things in each other's ears followed by a tender laugh, that feeling of unease still lingered within him. « Please, I want to understand, please » – he reminded himself of his wish.
— Do you have room for dessert? – he asked amiably, getting up to collect some plates and heading to the kitchen for the cream cake he had prepared. Blake stood up immediately.
— Let me help you, Mr. H! – The father had no choice but to accept the help, letting the man carry the dishes to the sink while he cut some slices of the cake.
— I really want to please you, sir. Your son is important to me, and I want to show you that you can trust me.
— Thank you, I'll… keep that in mind – he said, pressing his lips together as politely as he could, placing the slices of cake on the table.
Again, a few trivial topics came up as they ate.
— It tastes delicious… Did you put anything different in it this year? – Caspian asked, savoring the dessert. Harlon just shook his head, concentrating on his plate.
— I think he might have put something in it, it is – Rolan paused, on the verge of revealing the "secret ingredient", but instead, his eyes glazed over as he looked around, confused – I… I feel… What did you put in it?
He watched fearfully as Blake's fork clattered against his plate, his gaze unsteady and unsteady.
— I don't feel... well… – Harlon felt his stomach churn, and everything began to blur and become a blur. Caspian didn't even have time to say anything before collapsing onto the table. He tried to stand, but only managed to fall backward, feeling his weight, almost like tons, slam against the floor. The world went dark around him as he lost consciousness.
When he opened his eyes again, he was still in the same dining room, only... different. He remembered that in the last few moments he had been lying on the ground, but now he was sitting up, and his gaze shifted to the right to find Caspian beside him, also beginning to wake up and putting his hand to his forehead, wincing in pain.
— Damn, my head – he muttered in a slightly deeper tone, but his voice was still just as high-pitched.
Caspian didn't usually swear. Although a heavy noise, like a growl or a groan, sounded beside him, when he looked in that direction, he could see something rising from the ground, heavy and large. It was...
— Ugh… – he heard his old voice. He saw his old body stretch in pain, as if the blow of several years leading up to middle age had suddenly struck him.
But the worst part was when a scream from Rolan filled the room. His eldest son, always confident and "tough", was now frantically waving his hands around, his eyes wide as he looked him up and down, his hands coming out at his cheeks and slapping them hard with his open palm as if trying to wake himself from a dream.
— What the hell?! – Caspian jumped up, almost lunging at Rolan, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him – Why are you in my body?! Who are you?!
A confused Rolan looked at him with the same confusion and bewilderment, a single movement making the skinny boy back away.
— Why are you in my body, anyway?! – Rolan shouted again, his voice sounding more... melodious? As if that enormous body truly didn't belong to him, completely alien to him.
They stared at each other for a long time. Caspian was the first to swallow, unsure how to speak, as if the cat had eaten his tongue.
— Cas? Are you... are you in there? – Rolan nodded slowly, perplexed.
When Harlon dared to look at himself, he glanced down to find a white sleeveless shirt. He took a drag, catching the scent of sweat. He felt a cap on his head, damn it. He couldn't resist the urge to run to one of the bathrooms. Only hearing the screams of his old body and the apparent body of "Rolan" behind him did he slam the door shut, locking it.
— Puta madre – he managed to say in perfect Spanish when he saw himself in the mirror. In front of him was Blake's reflection, his brown skin, those enormous biceps, his chin… – Mierda, si que estoy guapo!
He said with a certain fascination. He didn't quite understand what was happening to him; his hands traced the lines along his sides with a deep laugh.
— Damn. I feel so young! – He heard that distinct accent coming from his lips, slapped his pecs hard, then squeezed them, but what truly dismayed him was when he lifted his armpit, taking a deep drag. The stench that had previously seemed unpleasant and nauseating now felt comforting. Warm and pungent... He took another drag, smiling. It would be much better if Cass were sniffing him like a maniac. Damn! What?!
On the other side of the house, Rolan also couldn't resist the urge to dash off to his old room and find himself in his younger brother's body, much thinner and shorter than him. He felt like a flower stem, flimsy and fragile.
— Don't play around – he said, panic in his voice. His damn fingers even looked thin and manicured. What the hell?!
He didn't judge his brother for being gay and liking feminine things, but being in his body was a completely different story. He felt so fragile, so tiny! There wasn't a trace of his old muscles; his pecs had shrunk to tiny sizes, like lemons! His face no longer exuded that natural attractiveness that could make any girl swoon. Now he was cute! What was he going to do about it?!
— Holy shit, my god, it's like… – Blake murmured as he felt his "father-in-law's" body, his new, more mature and aged pecs. He had to admit, Mr. Harlon was very well preserved. He even felt the roughness of his chin from the half-grown beard.
— Honey, I don't know if I'm okay with seeing you touch my father's body like that – Caspian said with a grimace. But the other ignored the complaint, only continuing to run his hands all over his body, a deep laugh in his ear.
— My back feels like shit, but look at this stuff! – He ran his hands back down to his pecs, bouncing them up and down with the same control of his hands, toying with them. Caspian, in his older brother's body, was flushed and furious; he had to slap him to make him stop.
— I told you that's enough – His gaze conveyed ferocity, something that never happened in his real body. Blake raised an eyebrow with a mocking smile.
— Why? What bothers you about all this? – He moved a little closer to his boyfriend, sticking out his tongue in the process to make the stupidest face he could manage. He leaned in to give him a wet kiss, heavy with saliva and using that enormous tongue he now possessed.
But all he managed to do was push him away with Caspian's newfound strength, who then ran upstairs. Blake shrugged nonchalantly; going upstairs to the main room, he was sure to find something fun to pass the time.
Caspian, on the other hand, felt a throbbing headache, as if he'd been beaten with a baseball bat. He barely managed to reach his old room to lock the door. Something he hadn't counted on (and that no one expected, of course) was that his older brother's psyche was much stronger than his own, more dominant and less fragile. He felt new impulses coursing through his skin. He hadn't returned the kiss, not because he didn't like it, but because it disgusted him somewhat, and not because of the "obvious" changes in their bodies. But because kissing a man seemed... strange.
His skin felt like it was on fire. He pulled off his shirt as best he could, revealing his thick, fleshy muscles. He had to stare at himself in the mirror, mouth agape.
— Damn – he grinned, feeling his new biceps and abs – Now I know why the girls loved it so much – he said with a mocking smile that vanished into a panicked expression. Girls? But if he liked men, that wasn't right. He had to do something, he had to- AGH! A sharp headache immobilized him, so much so that he collapsed onto the bed in agony. The veins in his neck bulged as he felt a new wave of memories and desires wash over him, as if his mind were being rewritten. He clutched the sheets around him, trying to resist.
Downstairs, Harlon emerged from the bathroom, his chest heaving. A bit of sweat glistened on his skin, and a silly grin played on his lips. He saw "Caspian" coming down the stairs, looking nervous and anxious.
— Cas, there you are – he said, grabbing him tightly by the waist to pull him closer. The thinner man pushed him aside with all the strength he could muster.
— W-wait. I'm not Caspian, and- Dad, aren't you inside? – There was fear in his voice, trying to get as far away as possible from the thunderous kisses the other was trying to give him. He inhaled for a second, only to be met with the putrid stench emanating from his brother's boyfriend.
— Dad? Pfft, what are you talking about? Don't talk nonsense, honey.
What Rolan hadn't counted on was that his father was having an... intense moment in the bathroom. Surrounded by memories that seeped into him with such force that they became one, memories of Caspian panting beneath him as his hips pressed against his, their skin damp and sweaty, the scent of intimacy and masculinity filling the air. Why would he be against such great pleasures that life offered him? There was nothing wrong with feeling attraction to men, so sexy with their pecs, biceps, and smelly armpits; he loved them. And even more so if it was his sexy and delicate boyfriend whom he longed to tear in two.
— N-no, I'm serious, this is wrong, and- mfffhhhh! – Rolan couldn't even finish the sentence before being slammed into his brother-in-law's stinky armpits. He felt the stench sting inside his nostrils, he struggled but it was useless. Like a boa constrictor, the athlete kept his grip around him, tight and firm, forcing him to smell.
— That's it, darling. Take a good drag, you love daddy's smell, don't you? – he said mockingly. Rolan's eyes were watering, he felt nauseous, but the more he inhaled, the more his head spun, his legs gave way.
He felt new impulses stirring within him, a natural inclination towards submission, a yearning to kneel before a man and serve him. Rolan hadn't known how perverted his younger brother could be, and now he was enveloped by all these new memories and desires. He couldn't resist sticking out his tongue and beginning to lick his beloved boyfriend's armpits.
— I knew you'd get used to it quickly – It seemed as if Rolan, or rather Caspian, had been given a stimulant? His eyes were shining, almost like stars, his cheeks flushed, and he had a tent in his pants.
— Mfhhh – gasps were all that escaped his lips, his tongue sticking out.
— You don't have to say anything else, cariño – Old Harlon took the other's cheeks in his hands and kissed him desperately. They embraced each other, their lips clashing as their wet tongues met. The height difference was striking, so the older one decided to take him by the waist, lifting him so he could wrap his arms around his hips and kissing him more intensely.
They were both a chaotic mess, stumbling all over the place, bumping into the walls, the kitchen counter.
— Fuck, I don't give a fuck if your family hears us – the new Blake said breathlessly, deep and eager like a predator. Caspian nodded like crazy, rubbing himself against his boyfriend's waist so he could feel his tool against him; he wanted him to fill him up so badly.
Upstairs, the real Blake continued exploring his new body. In fact, he was getting more "comfortable".
— Bro. I look great in this – he said, laughing. He’d found a cap and a black tank top and hadn’t hesitated for a second to put them on; he felt more comfortable like this. He took a sniff of his new armpit, only catching the scent of deodorant and cologne – I wish it smelled stronger.
He grimaced. But hey, that wasn’t going to stop him from exploring himself. He knew, in a way, that it was wrong. He wanted to make a better impression on his father-in-law, and using his boyfriend’s dad’s body like this certainly wasn’t very… appropriate. But he felt almost like his hormones were boiling over, so screw it. What did it matter?
He could act like a mindless athlete in a middle-aged man’s body if he wanted. He had to admit that this style suited his father-in-law; it made him look younger and more radiant. He felt his tool throbbing, thick as a beer can and accompanied by heavy, bull-like balls. He couldn't hold out much longer.
Especially considering the noises downstairs, the loud, desperate gasps of who seemed to be "Caspian" and his old body, bellowing, desperate, and almost in heat, colliding with each other. If they were having fun, why wasn't he?
Dinner had been a complete disaster, in fact. They hadn't even eaten; each of them remained locked in their respective rooms, adjusting more to their new identities. It was as if their current bodies had absorbed them, rearranging their mindsets to make them adapt – well, all except Blake. Who, for some reason, managed to keep his psyche above Harlon's boring and somewhat outdated personality; he'd even gotten a nose piercing to look more "cool”.
Visiting gay clubs and bars to let loose with his new "mature daddy" look. And what happened to him and Caspian? Unfortunately, they had to break up. Caspian's new tastes no longer suited him. Now, inhabiting his older brother's body, he had discovered a fascination with women; their curves and other attributes seemed so captivating and... delicious.
As soon as summer vacation ended, he couldn't resist the urge to explore these new pleasures with his girlfriend, Jen. He ended up filling her again and again with his thick, creamy substance.
Now he was a success in sports, a heartbreaker with girls begging for him, powerful, masculine, and without a trace of his old identity. He still occasionally harbored a certain curiosity for men. So he could enlist any of his old friends to have their mouths serve well in worshipping a real man like himself.
And Harlon and Rolan? Well, they were together, as a couple. At first, it had been strange and contradictory, their old minds feeling how wrong things were, but their new bodies were eager to cling to each other, like magnets that couldn't stay apart for long.
With their sweaty skin pressed together, Rolan would be at Harlon's feet, literally. Desperately sucking and licking to get every last drop of his new boyfriend's rancid, acrid essence.
Rolan already felt comfortable with his slimmer, shorter figure, his perfect cheekbones, and his smooth skin, moving naturally, swaying his hips. Why would he miss his old muscles when he now had enormous buttocks that made anyone drool?
Harlon was young again. He knew his old body was already attractive, but this was different. He felt more agile, stronger, his tanned skin radiant, his biceps and pecs enormous. So damn attractive, it had been quite a sudden change, going from liking women to liking men, practically overnight. But damn, it felt so good, so comfortable.
It seemed like it had been a good Christmas exchange after all.
----
Hey everyone! This is a special Christmas post, just a few more and we'll be done with this holiday season. I wanted to thank you all for the support you've given me this year; I truly appreciate it. I hope you have a very Merry Christmas, surrounded by your loved ones and friends. Enjoy! And if you're going through a tough time, feeling like you can't go on or that life is kicking you, remember that nothing lasts forever, and everything always works out and gets better. Everything will be alright.
If any of you need to talk (whether it's about body swapping or anything else), my inbox is always open. Thank you again for all your support! It's always a pleasure writing for you guys. Thanks!
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.
Quick - Gaming
- Dude! I didn't think it would work!
- Bro, look at the size of these things!
Cody said laughing as he bounced the pecs of Travis' brother, his best friend. He felt the other guy's hands roam his new physique and then squeeze his nipples, which made him let out a shrill moan and then a giggle.
- Dude, be careful! These things are very sensitive -he managed to mutter with heavy breathing between laughs.
- Sorry, but I've wanted to do this for so long
The other muttered, licking his lips from just running his hands across the flesh.
Both guys had found a rare spell online that allowed them to transfer one person's consciousness into another's body, housing it like a vessel. They had come up with no better test subject than Travis' jock brother, arrogant and an asshole, but with a body to die for. Literally the desire of anyone who liked men.
- Pff. Maybe your brother should shower more - Cody muttered, lifting his armpit to take a strong drag of his new stench - I feel like a pig like that.
- Not bad, though.
- Shit, Travis, can you stop massaging so hard? I swear these things are way too sensitive.
He let out a deep groan, having to lean back against the back of the seat, but far from heeding him, Travis squeezed harder in between giggles.
Not for nothing had he placed it on his older brother's body, and. Of course, he had made sure that Cody didn't read the "fine print" of the spell.
《 Warning: If a maximum state of euphoria is reached, the person will be sealed in their new vessel; cases of vulnerability to suggestion may be experienced. Take care not to occupy this spell under any circumstances 》
- Just relax... Bro.
----
Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.
I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
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.
Brother's Issues (English Version)
My older brother was infuriating. A guy with more ego than brains, but who had such an enviable body that it further reinforced his smug attitude.
The fights in my house were constant, the idiot left his clothes all over the place and hardly showered! He was always bragging about his "man smell"; and of course, being the oldest, my parents let him do whatever he wanted. He always got away with it, and I could only die of envy.
Mark was the big brother while I just made do with the scraps, I don't think I'm unattractive, but when you compare a river to the sea, clearly the sea is going to win.
He always got everyone's attention: teachers, family, even my ex-boyfriends; even if he wasn't gay, they always ended up confessing to me that what they wanted was to be near him.
And I was fed up.
I had been lost on the Internet for at least two hours in the wee hours of the morning, not seeing anything interesting until an email seemed to arrive.
"Want to be someone else? Read this email."
The first thing I did was close the message. It was ridiculous, sure it was some kind of spam mail. But the more time passed, an extra curiosity began to tingle in me, until I couldn't take it anymore. I ended up opening it and reading it.
It had a series of instructions on how to prepare a concoction with rather curious ingredients, but that would cause two people to change their bodies when they drank it.
Again I thought it was all stupidity, when I heard something crashing again and again against my wall from my brother's room, and the excited screams of a girl who was probably his fling today, like almost every night.
I had reached my limit.
The next morning, I set about gathering all the ingredients, until I finally came up with the last one: the other person's sweat, I thought it would be difficult, but I remembered that my brother left his sweaty underwear everywhere in the house. That morning, he was out, so I thought it would be easy to sneak into his room to steal some boxers.
No sooner had I entered his room than I had filled my nostrils with a pungent odor, the whole stench of my brother was quite strong. It looked like he hadn't cleaned his room in years and it just smelled like sweat and his fluids, it stank...
I was going through his dirty clothes when I heard the thunder of the wood on his door, my skin crawled, expecting a knock. But my brother wasn't standing in the frame, but his best friend: Theo.
— What are you doing here, buddy?
Theo was a nice guy, I didn't know how he was friends with my brother. His blond hair was silky, his smile was bright...
And I'd had a crush on him for as long as I could remember.
I didn't know if it was because he treated me well, because he was a good person and kind, or all together. But gosh, he sure drove me crazy.
— N-nothing. I was about to pick up Mark's laundry.
— Is he making you do his laundry again?
I swallowed hard right then and there.
— Uh, yeah, yeah.
— Let me help you.
He came over to me to lift the basket and carry it to the laundry room, my heart was beating fast.
I didn't know if it was because I was afraid Mark would come in at any moment and notice the absence of his sweaty clothes, or if it was from being with Theo.
— Well, buddy, there's the laundry. I'll wait for your brother in his room, see you.
He waved his hands, disappearing. As soon as he left, I dived into the pile of stinky clothes, trying to find the freshest thing possible. I grabbed a pair of red underpants, they felt wet and smelly, I tried not to smell them but ended up stuffing them in my face. Soon that would be my smell...
I gathered the rest of the ingredients, prepared it in a jar and when I squeezed the sweat out of it, I swear I saw how it shined.
I let it sit until the next morning. I knew my brother was going out to work out as usual, so I always prepared his protein for the gym; before he went out, I opened the glass to pour half of the liquid and run back to my room.
The rest of the time passed slowly, I didn't know whether to drink the rest of the concoction, what if something went wrong, what if I ended up doing something bad to my brother?
Thousands of questions tormented me, but I caught a glimpse of my brother's body: Tall, stocky, with his stinky armpits, his strong legs, how his arms swelled or his big pecs. All that could be mine, at last not just the puny brother, I could be the big one.
I ended up drinking all the concoction, up to the last drop; for an instant I felt nothing, until suddenly I felt a cramp accompanied by an intense pain and dizziness, I fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, feeling my whole body trembling and my vision went black.
In less than a second, I could see light again. However, something felt strange from the moment I blinked. Maybe it was the aroma I was now emanating, the place where I was now or the noise of weights and sports machinery being used.
I looked down, noticing my tanned skin, my thick pecs and muscles, yes I was strong!
I couldn't help but let out an excited laugh and dropped the weights my brother was carrying moments before, I almost looked like a schoolgirl with emotions running high.
I immediately dropped everything, walking uncertainly towards the bathrooms or the locker room. As soon as I saw my new reflection, it was like feeling an adrenaline rush, I was seeing my brother's reflection! I flexed his arms, enjoying how my arms and chest were swelling up. Gosh, yes!
I lifted my armpit, beginning to lick and sniff, enjoying the aroma. I clutched my nose against my new hairy armpit, panting loudly as if unhinged.I caressed every inch of my new skin, bristling at the slightest touch. I smiled smugly.
— Oh yes, my name is Mark.... – I murmured, taking the opportunity to touch the relief of my brother's pecs, letting out a squeal from the sensitivity – I'm the star athlete of my high school, a real casanova – I was loving every second, seeing how what I was saying, my brother was making exact copy of it – I used to like girls but now.... I don't know, bro. I think I'll only like boys.
I was drunk with power. I ended up leaving the gym after finding my brother's stuff, I didn't even change, I enjoyed feeling how the wet clothes stuck against my skin, the stench my body gave off, even how other guys saw me.
I ended up getting home, I didn't hear any noise, everything was quiet. I knew my parents were at work, so I went upstairs, straight to my room.
I was scared to find my brother in my body, awake. My heart was pounding... but when I opened the door, I could see my old body lying on the floor, asleep.
I smiled, I couldn't help but scoff inwardly, I even moved him slightly to see if he would react.
—You're not so strong anymore, are you, little brother? – I said teasingly.
I simply turned around, closing the door to go to my brother's room. I lifted my armpit, smiling at the scent; now I understood why he was addicted to smelling that bad.
I started rummaging through his closet, beginning to try on all of his clothes. There was something exciting about it that made my skin crawl.
I put on everything I could get my hands on: Sport shirts, shorts, skinny jeans, leather jackets. It was fun, until I found something in a drawer that made my new member firm up instantly. It was a smelly sports spandex, it was my brother's wrestling uniform. I suddenly took off my clothes to put that on instead, I smiled as I saw it fit perfectly on my body, all in place.
My fat legs encased in the tight fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination. I sat in a chair my brother had in front of his mirror, leaning back.
Loving the way I looked, I picked up his phone to start taking pictures of myself, letting my strong muscles show, or my armpits, I even made the occasional silly face.
I was a brainless jock now, wasn't I?
I sniffed hard at my new masculinity, taking advantage of the friction to drive me crazy. I was waving my hand frantically when someone entered the room, it was Theo.
— Shit! – I muttered, covering myself. He just raised his eyebrow.
— What are you doing? - he asked without giving it much importance.
— Nothing, nothing. I wasn't expecting you – I mumbled, trying to avoid his gaze.
— I told you yesterday I'd come today, are you running out of brain cells from so much protein? – He joked. I felt a warm feeling in my stomach when I heard him laugh – What are you wearing?
— My wrestling uniform, what else? – I tried to diminish the strangeness of the moment, I had to be more like Mark – it drives girls crazy, don't you think? – I muttered, flexing my arms for him.
Theo let out a friendly laugh, nodding.
— Sure, dude.
We talked for a while, at first he caught me off guard but the more I talked to him, I felt my brother's knowledge and tastes seep in. Suddenly he was talking about his subjects, his other friends, video games that only he knew about, even what sports games were coming up.
— Mark, do you want to go play video games at my house? I bought something new and we can go try it out.
— Sure, bro – I felt natural with every step and every sentence. I changed my clothes so we could go without looking ridiculous, that would be for later – Let me let my annoying brother know.
I ended up walking to my old room, still lying my body on the floor. I went out with Theo, walking down the street and enjoying the sun.
— Sometimes you're too hard on him.
— With who? – I said a bit confused.
— With your younger brother, I remember when you used to get along with him.
I felt some guilt for what he made me remember, there was a time when Mark was protective of me, and I was always hanging out with him and Theo, until.... Wow, I don't know what happened.
— He's such a loser.
— I like him, he's really nice.
I smiled to myself to hear my crush say such a thing. We ended up arriving at his house, apparently no one was home. We went up to Theo's room where we played for at least two hours, the afternoon went by fast; we kept talking about trivial topics but I couldn't help looking at him from time to time.
I felt a connection with him, natural because of my brother's friendship with Theo, but there was something that also seeped out of me, that I liked. The way he laughed, or his hair falling on his forehead, his skin, fuck, fuck...
— Come on, dude. I'm kicking your ass! – I could see how my character ended up being defeated, I was silent, just listening to his laughter, which confused him, he turned to look at me. – Mark... Are you ok?
And I couldn't hold it in any longer.
I approached him to kiss him softly, I was afraid he wouldn't kiss me back, but he immediately started kissing me again.
It was a chaos of kisses, my hands wandering awkwardly through his hair.
— Jesus, Mark...
— Don't you love it?
— I love it, man...
We ended up kissing like crazy. There were a lot of questions in me, So Theo was gay? Did he always have feelings for Mark? Was this the relationship they had? What was going on here?
But the more kisses he gave me, the less I cared. In a matter of mere seconds again we were kissing intensely and passionately. I had everything I wanted, the body I deserved, the boy of my dreams? At last everything was in place.
Theo climbed on top of me, still kissing me, even tenderly.
— Do you want me to take good care of you, big guy?
He whispered in a tone I never thought I'd hear him speak. He caressed my chest and then my abs.
— Theo...
I murmured.
— Shh...
I immediately quieted down. And gosh... He sure knew how to use his mouth, my eyes rolled to white from just feeling how over and over again he acted greedily. I was lost in the sensation until I could feel my new phone vibrating like crazy, I preferred to ignore it, but I kept getting notifications.
I reluctantly picked up the phone, only to see notifications from my old number. Apparently my brother had already woken up, there were endless messages:
"What did you do, midget!? Where are you!?"
And more messages from him, completely hysterical, although there was one in particular that made me trace a wide smile on my face:
"Are you with Theo?! Stay away from my best friend!"
I immediately activated the camera to send him some pictures. Which infuriated him even more.
I was about to burst out laughing when I heard Theo's phone start ringing.
— Mfh... Wait a minute, buddy – he sat back up and picked up his phone to check who was calling – That's weird, your brother is calling me.
— Don't answer it - I tried to sound natural.
But Theo seemed to ignore me, he answered and not only that, he put it on speaker.
— Hello?
There was silence, until Mark finally exploded with my squeaky voice.
— Theo, it's Mark! My idiot brother did something and now I'm in his body! That asshole is using my body, you have to do something!
Theo looked at me strangely, scowling, I couldn't even hold his gaze.
— Didn't you hear, Theo?! That's not me that's with you! You have to do something!
I guess the luck had lasted only a few seconds, now Theo would reject me or even hate me.
— I know, Mark – I looked up quickly, I could see the boy of my dreams with a cold profile, but not for me exactly – And I like it that way.
My old voice sounded hysterical and annoyed over the speaker until Theo cut the call.
— So... You know?
— Yes, I do.
— Was I too obvious?
— A little, but it wasn't really about that.
Without warning he kissed me again.
— But Theo...
— Who do you think sent you the mail?
He let out a laugh to kiss me intensely, I had to restrain myself from kissing him for hours or putting my hands on his body.
— Why?
— Because I've seen you, buddy - he smiled, then I realized that I always use the nickname he used to call me - I know how you look at me, I know how much you liked it. And although I felt something similar, I couldn't reciprocate you, I saw you as my little brother, it felt... wrong. Your brother's body, though, I could certainly mess with it an infinite number of times.
He caressed my smooth abs.
— So you like that I'm Mark?
— I love it. The goofy jock look suits you.
He grabbed my pecs to weigh them, then without warning lunged against my armpits to lick and sniff like crazy.
After a few weeks, I ended up adapting to my brother's life perfectly. I continued playing his sports, improved his grades, got along with his friends... The only change was when “he” came out as openly gay, my parents had to accept it and my younger brother... Well, he has no choice but to watch me bring my cute boyfriend, formerly best friend, into my room every night.
---
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.
This will be my new account, I hope you like the stories that are coming soon. 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. 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 Possessions: Zeke
Zeke had always been "troubled," not the typical problem student, but he wasn't very easy to handle.
He loved excesses, and that was obvious, so was his constant state in the afterlife, lethargic and cheerful, remaining on what seemed like an eternal journey. He didn't complain, but... It was difficult to get anyone to take him seriously, or to respect his boundaries...
He had become well-known among the ghosts for his "irresponsible" possessions, leaving his hosts in rather compromising situations and almost with their reputations in tatters. A clear example was the substitute chemistry teacher. His story was known to both mortals and ghosts. He was teaching a class like any other, almost the last before the regular teacher returned from maternity leave. He was serious but undoubtedly attractive, with a good pair of muscles. He was about to explain the assignment when he fell silent, began to laugh, and watched his body with fascination until he ended up slamming his manhood against the table. Yes... Goodbye to his teaching career.
And it wasn't because Zeke was bad or even mischievous, no. He was just so far gone that he didn't measure the consequences of his actions, as if everything were a game to him. The worst part? It wasn't the first time he'd messed with a teacher and done this.
A few years ago, a new coach started teaching at the school. He was quite young, with good muscles, a face to die for, and the target of more than one ghost. Julian and Brady were having a heated argument over who had the best right to take over Coach Stevens's body.
Too bad for them, Zeke had already gone ahead. He sneaked into the gym, where at least there was no one else but that man, his elegant, strong, imposing demeanor; those enormous muscles wrapped like candy in that tight compression shirt. He was arranging a couple of pieces of clothing, like balls and mats, unaware that he was being watched.
A cell phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket to answer it.
— Hello? Yes, dear. I almost finished packing everything up to go home. Don't worry, I'll pick up what you ordered for dinner – Zeke approached slowly, then pushed himself up to his nose. He entered forcefully, causing spasms and grunts from the man who was trying to resist whatever was invading his body. The "confrontation" lasted a while until the man slowed down, the phone still to his ear, his wife worried about the noises.
"He" opened his eyes with a crooked smile, listening to the woman's screams on the other end.
— Yes, yes, yes! I'll call you later, byeee!
He said, tossing the phone aside, not even bothering to hang up. His strong hands shot to his pecs as he kneaded them with a soft chuckle, the stench of sweat swirling in the air.
— Shit, yeah... You really stink – he said with a chuckle. He didn't even have to go near his armpit; the shirt itself was soaked with sweat, like a warm scent wafting straight into his nose.
He felt his pants tighten.
Zeke was always very sensitive to sensations, as if his state quadrupled his perception. This also influenced the way he ended up reacting and making his decisions, hasty and almost irrational.
He spent a long time massaging his pectorals, only with a broad smile, tilting his head back, enjoying his touch, those strong fingers burying themselves in his flesh, the soft yet solid touch enough to make him gasp. He loved the way his new voice rumbled in the middle of his throat, that thick Adam's apple that underscored his masculinity... And shit, that jaw! Sharp enough to cut marble, he felt so masculine, so powerful.
In life, Zeke wasn't bad-looking at all, but he'd never been like this. So full of muscle, with that penetrating musk, the fabric clinging perfectly to his body.
He still felt the tension in his pants, that thick piece of flesh, throbbing, yet he ignored it. There was something arousing about just feeling it rub against the fabric, over and over again, his heavy, slow breathing, those pecs rising and falling.
He had to sit down for a moment to try to control what he felt. One of the "disadvantages" of possession was that if the ghost went through a series of very powerful emotions, he would lose control of his body. So he tried to resist, painfully prolonging this euphoria.
He felt so heavy, so big. He took out his new phone to take a couple of good photos, even noting the missed calls from the coach's wife; it wasn't his problem.
He really loved seeing how the shirt fit, the thick muscles, the broad chest... And that stench, damn. So perfect... He got rid of his shoes to let his new feet breathe through the smelly socks, and he giggled again.
— Wow, coach... Who knew you were so sweaty, so smelly – he inhaled again – so delicious...
He wiggled his toes, still laughing, fascinated by the length. He felt like he was enormous in every way, and that was fascinating him more and more.
Even though he was hungry, he felt his abs growl, causing him to let out a slight groan as he brought his hands to the solid structure.
— Gosh! It's like a wall… – he whispered, smiling, caressing and counting each of those bumps – But shit, why don't you eat something?
He gave a long moan, constantly hitting his new skin as if trying to create a cacophony between the bumps and his own moans. That's when he noticed a backpack. He got up to open it. There were other clothes, but he saw a large glass. He opened it and sniffed a little; it smelled like some kind of milkshake, although when he took a sip, he didn't like it at all.
— Ugh – he made a disgusted face, even though he was so hungry...
He let out a sigh before downing the entire container, drinking eagerly, letting it all fall straight into his stomach. Every now and then, he glanced at his reflection with a small smile.
Flexing and stretching his arms, he licked his lips, still feeling the protein on them, but he chose to ignore it and just focus on the feeling of satisfaction and admiration before his arms, looking curious.
— Let's see...
He raised his arm to inhale, his nose captivated by that stinky, intoxicating stench... His nasal tip colliding directly with those hairy armpits, he spent a long time smelling, slowly and deliberately, every pore that gave off that stinky odor...
His tongue moved up and down, trying to catch even the slightest trace of sweat, as if he wanted to clean it all off.
He continued with those random push-ups, and then, deciding to stay in only his underwear, a tight outfit that left nothing to the imagination, Zeke licked his lips, not even knowing where to begin. It was like having a buffet in front of him, just for him.
— Oh yeah, I'm way too handsome to be wasting my time being a PE teacher, don't you think? – He boasted, puffing out his chest. He loved caressing it, how sensitive it was – I should be keeping these bad guys busy with something else – He flexed again, weighing his pecs as if they were simple baking dough.
He tugged at the ridges on his pecs, letting out deep moans. His legs even had to be crossed to keep from letting out an even louder howl. Although he couldn't stop himself from sticking out his tongue and starting to pant like a dog, with a silly expression on his face. Zeke was undoubtedly one of the ghosts who got carried away the most in that regard; he loved getting under someone else's skin so much.
Sometimes he justified himself by saying it was "enriching," that it allowed him to explore so many perspectives (yeah, sure…). He was uninhibited, and dirty-minded, even before he finished there. So there was no need to say why he loved possessing so much.
— If I'd had these arms, believe me, I would have gone crazy over them – Another chuckle, a raised eyebrow, and that intense twitch of his pecs – But now I have them, right?
That mischievous, ecstatic smile appeared.
Zeke spent at least thirty minutes in the gym, stroking himself over and over again. The coach's skin was already so red from his insistence, though that didn't stop him; he remained euphoric, his nervous eyes flitting around the exquisite delicacy inside. He continued to be curious, rummaging through his backpack again, finding two outfits: One looked more formal, probably what he was going to wear to return home, but the other was a sleeveless black compression shirt, tight pants, and a sweatband. He raised his eyebrow, somewhat confused. He also had a pair of oversized shoes that smelled pretty bad, but that only encouraged him more.
First, he placed the shoes directly against his nose, sniffing, fascinated. It stank so rich, so rancid... All for him.
He was about to continue when an idea popped into his mind—at that moment, Zeke was finally thinking. He reached for the glass to take it, starting to pour it into his shoe, and then began to drink it.
The pink liquid escaped from the corners of his mouth.
He felt ridiculous for that action, however, he just let out a small chuckle, making his pecs bounce, and continued drinking the liquid. He could taste the staleness of sweat on his taste buds, combined with the sweetness of the shake. He felt the liquid dripping onto his pecs, which made him laugh a little more and lick his lips. He felt so silly, so smelly and dirty.
He sniffed his armpits again, a smile on his lips. He decided to start walking to the shower, his sweaty, damp feet pounding against the tiles, leaving a trail like footprints.
He stepped into the shower, smiled as he felt the drops hit his skin, those sore muscles (perhaps from routine, stress, or the simple exertion of exercise), rubbed the soap against his enormous pecs, enjoying the lather that formed and how it left them "adorned."
— Seriously... Why do you waste this body just being a physical education teacher? – he flexed his biceps self-centeredly – When you can have so many possibilities...
He also traced the path of his abs, taking advantage of the fact that the water followed that same path, running over his skin. He continued soaping himself, on the one hand saddened by the idea of losing that musk that was hypnotizing him, but on the other hand, enjoying every second of feeling his new muscles between his calloused fingers; each caress was driving him crazy.
He hadn't paid enough attention to his new obelisk, which had only been waving like a flagpole, demanding his attention. He spread his new hands around the shaft, only able to cover it like that. He really had a good tool!
The shower continued for a while, with deep moans echoing all the way to the gym, the steam swirling until he emerged with a towel wrapped around him and drops of water running all over him.
He stopped in front of the mirror to flex, still smiling smugly.
— Okay, man. Let's see what you had in your suitcase.
He took out the same outfit he'd noticed before, the one he probably wore to the gym or who knows what. He put on the tight pants, feeling them cling to his thighs and calves like a glove, then he put on the compression shirt, feeling the fabric cling to his pecs, even making him gasp slightly as it pressed against his areolas. Finally, he put on the sports band.
He noticed his reflection in the mirror and raised an eyebrow. He felt so ridiculous; he looked like some kind of retro TV coach. But far from being bothered, Zeke gave a goofy grin, nodding and flexing his arms. He ran his finger across his shapely biceps.
But a phone notification pulled him out of his reverie. He lifted the screen to read: "Love."
He thought it was probably the coach's wife, meh. What does it matter?
— Okay?"
— Hey! Where are you? I'm worried. The guys and I are waiting for you for dinner. You were supposed to get home an hour ago. Is everything okay?
Zeke was silent for a moment. What could he possibly say to a woman worried about her husband?
— BROOOOUUUP – a thunderous burp escaped his lips. He let out a mocking chuckle as he patted his stomach – That smoothie was good, huh? I'll be there in a bit, sorry. I got too caught up in stroking these huge muscles!
The silence on the other end was almost spectral. Until shouts began to be heard, Zeke just averted his gaze slightly, shaking his head.
— Yeah, yeah. I'm on my way. Bye, bye.
The coach's wife continued screaming like crazy until she hung up. Zeke shook his head slightly, looking at himself in the mirror one last time.
— Okay, big guy. I think you have things to do.
He licked his lips and brought his hands to his pecs to give them one last squeeze. Zeke let out a sigh, almost a kind of annoyed groan.
— Ugh... I'm too full to come out by the mouth.
He pulled his pants down slightly. The coach's expression turned strange, before he let out a groan, a thunderous gas erupted from between his buttocks, and a greenish smoke billowed out. The coach collapsed on the floor as Zeke materialized, cracking his neck and stretching his shoulders
— Well, good luck, buddy! – he said with a chuckle before slapping that fluffy butt. The guy walked forward until he vanished into one of the walls, leaving the coach in a heap, his pants down, a "heavy" shake in his stomach, and at least five calls and twenty texts from his wife.
----
Hello everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is the first part of a series of special stories about each ghost. There will be eight stories in total. Two will be publicly accessible, and the rest will be on my subscription channel on Patreon: Swap Acess Pass. They're separate stories from the original plot, but they'll still be packed with interesting details if you'd like to read them. You'll definitely love them.
Also, in that subsciption channel you'll find over 30 special and exclusive stories, everything that can't lives in Tumblr, is there.
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.
CORPUS.INC
Welcome to CORPUS.INC, the world's number one body rental and body exchange company. Here everything is possible, from being a college twink to a shapely dadbody.
All thanks to neural links, which allow the user to exchange or implant their consciousness into the body they wish to manage. Our wide variety of plans (from modalities to economic plans), allow either:
The user “pilots” his new body from the comfort of his home, only with the use of a visor and a device that is inserted into the user's temple, and voila, he will be using his new body for as long as he has contracted our services.
This service is strongly related to our catalog. Bodies for rent, ready to be selected and piloted from a distance, these vessels are offered by their owners in exchange for a large amount of money in exchange for their use, depending on the time, plus pay.
Our other way of operating, are the exchanges. Where two people sign a contract of mutual agreement to exchange their skins with each other, they set the time of exchange, plus other expenses such as the use of devices and facilities, as this process can only be done in our offices.
CORPUS.INC offers you the unique opportunity to experience someone else's life in your own shoes, to have the body of your dreams, to reminisce about your youth or to see what the future may hold. The possibilities are endless here at CORPUS.INC, where dreams are born. What are you waiting for to try it?
----
Hello everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.
I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
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: Distractions
prologue: Haunted
part one: Possession Play
part two: The Bet
part three: Occupied
The weeks that followed for Benjamin were the worst. Not because of the grades, not because some people would judge him for his sexuality, or any other teenage cliché that might cross your mind.
《 Sup? Do you want to go for a drink? 》 - he checked his phone, noticing a notification. Fuck, how did they get his cell number?
But for the constant harassment from the ghosts. Benji didn't have them all recognized yet (because there were surely more of them, as many as cockroaches hiding behind the walls of the school), but he already had a few of them memorized.
This by their behaviors, after a while, it was easy to remember them no matter how much they changed their skin (more because they were also predictable in their behavior, or rather, in what bodies they used)
He had recognized four so far. First Zeke, who had wreaked havoc in the principal's office, he didn't know how the deputy principal got out of that accident unscathed. He liked to occupy a wide variety of bodies, from muscular to lean.
The big detail here was: the scent. Ezekiel always gave off that characteristic smell of “herbs”, in addition to his relaxed or even "goofy" act, to say the least. He was the spitting image of liberalism, he didn't care about anything, and while he didn't try to get between her legs (or at least not so much anymore), he didn't want to pay attention to him either. After all, he was still the target of that bet they were so focused on winning.
- Come on. Talk to me, Kenji
- I told you it's Benji, Benjamin for you. And I have nothing to talk to you about.
He muttered dryly, moving down the school hallway, clutching his backpack.
- Not even a "hello"?
- Fuck you, Zeke. And you better get out of that body, the debate team has rehearsals this week.
- What's the difference? Come on, let's talk.
Maybe Zeke was the quietest of them, but on the other side.
We had Daniel, who was a headache, he was bossy, with a straight and authoritarian attitude that was suffocating, he didn't show up with a nice attitude, wanting to be your friend (as Zeke sometimes tried to do), this idiot wanted to boss you around, bend you over almost. He used to be president of the class of '65, until an aneurysm cut his potential political career short in the middle of a political speech (yes, he'd forced him to listen to his monologue for at least an hour, about his "tragic life"), and Benji had discovered with him... That ghosts had powers, and to his bad luck, Daniel's power was to control others. When he possessed a body, he had a small window in which,he could command people whatever he wanted. The ability was short lived but, he had the bad luck that their first meeting would end in a very... Peculiar way.
The bodies he used to occupy, were those guys with self-sufficiency on their faces, sports team stars (mind you, with enough brains to house his own), school committee guys, even the president of his class – "To relive the old days" - he had said as it seeped into him.
A total egomaniac. Although he had lost track of him in the last few weeks, it was as if he had lost interest in trying to convince him to listen to him beyond his suggestion.
Then there was Tobias. He could remember him the day this whole nightmare started, his voice, raspy... with that melancholic touch that went with it, he always had that somber aura about him, plus a kind of Nancy Downs emo boy vibe or something, and to top it all off. He was the oldest of them all, dying in "unknown" situations in 1930. Quite the old man.
And with it, all his stigmas of the time.
The bodies he chose had that vibe of... guy of few words. Edgy or dark style. Like some dark poet or some guy with a cigarette problem.
He never tried to get intimate with him, at least not carnally, he always said he wasn't gay but he could see how he would stare at his lips more than usual or how he would concentrate madly on touching his pecs, quite the virgin.
Although, he always had great conversations with him, existential ones. He was hardly interested in the bet, more like someone lonely who longed to stop being lonely with all his might. They'd talk for a while, and then, he'd leave his host's body just like that.
But then there was Brady. Apparently the one who started the whole gambling thing, his bodies were diverse, but he was always a casanova, with a smirk, huge biceps or squandering “charisma” to tempt him, he was a jerk, and the most insistent of them all.
- Come on, Benny, don't you want to try all this? You've got the best athlete in the school at your feet, what do you want?
- From you, nothing - He said trying to stay as firm as he could, he had to admit that having so much jock, hot teacher and handsome guy paying attention to him and flirting with him so insistently, was tempting. There were several occasions when he almost “gave in” to those tactics, however, he knew it was all fake somehow, none of those guys wanted to be with him willingly, it was just delusional. And he wouldn't fall for it, no matter how much Brady would occupy his entire arsenal, such as possessing the principal or much of the teaching staff.
But Benji was far from knowing all the other ghosts. Like Elliot, a nerd from 2003 who had been ghosted after an asthma attack, and why hadn't anyone helped him or gotten to his inhaler? Because he had been locked in the bathroom by his bullies. Something sad, but that not many people remembered because he was not a sports eminence (as they remembered Julian).
Elliot had several peculiarities, but the greatest of all was his way of possession. All ghosts, without exception, entered through cavities such as the mouth, nose, etc.. It was a prerequisite to complete the possession, for all but not for Elliot. The way in which the nerd entered his hosts was by touch (who knows why?). Julian and Mark sensed it had been thanks to the circumstances of his death), but it remained a mystery.
Elliot had been in favor of the bet, but similar to Tobias. Beyond his carnal desires, he was lonely. Too lonely, he wanted a friend, he had Julian and Marco, yes. But he wanted to be seen by someone else, he was sick of being a ghost, "doomed" (he wasn't complaining about his friends, let's be clear on that) to know and see the same people for perhaps, all eternity. So to have a new guy who could see him, and talk to. It was certainly excellent news, the possibilities were great.
The bodies he always chose were those with glasses, slim, sometimes he liked slightly muscular, although sportsmen were completely out of his list. Of all the ghosts, Elliot was the one who possessed the least, maybe because he avoided it, it didn't seem right to him to usurp someone else's place, although when loneliness could outweigh his morals, he owned some guy, just to feel normal again, seen. That was the one thing Elliot longed for with all his might, to be seen.
He had thought for weeks about how to talk to Benji, whether to occupy a body or present himself as him (he preferred the former, it would be less invasive and wouldn't leave the guy looking like a maniac talking to himself), what topics to talk about, he had mapped out a whole imaginary path to occupy the perfect body. A senior guy, just like Benjamin, they were going together in calculus so it wouldn't be hard. All he had to do was walk across the school from the abandoned wing to the central wing, easy.
What Elliot didn't count on, was that he had to go through the gym, right in the middle of PE class. During a game of dodgeball; the nerd was trying to dodge every container that darted back and forth, totally oblivious to his presence. He hated dodgeball, and now he hated it more; that guy almost hit him!
Something else unusual about Elliot: He did not control how long his possessions lasted, while all other ghosts could come and go at will from their hosts, for him, the rules were very different. That lasted until one thing or another happened.
A. The body would eventually expel him
B. Something from the outside forced him to leave.
Elliot could almost spend a month inside someone if something didn't get him out, because he couldn't get out on his own, so he was also extremely careful about when and who he possessed.
He was a few steps from the entrance, past the hallway, he would be safe to carry out his plan. He was so close! He quickened his pace, running.
- Okay, guys! That's enough, practice is ov-!
What Elliot didn't count on was that someone would run right into his path. And boy, he run into someone.
It was like slamming into a brick wall and then turning to dust, swirling in anguish and near panic, until everything settled. He opened his eyes lazily, feeling heavy, big, he had always been very thin so feeling his center of gravity shift was a strange sensation. He'd been around big guys, yes, but nothing equaled that.
- Coach... Are you all right?
Elliot looked around, trying to find the coach with his eyes, but no one was there. He looked down, and then he understood.
- Holy shit - he muttered under his breath.
- Coach, is everything all right?
- Ah... - a deep voice escaped his lips, he didn't even know what to answer - Yes, yes, everything is in order. We're done here, everyone get changed.
- But there's still more time left...
- Let's make it free time.
Little by little they left the gym until they left him alone, his heart pounding. Everything had gone wrong for him, almost backwards. He put his hand to his head as he felt a kind of dizziness, not because of illness, but because everything that shouldn't have happened, had happened, it was regret. Now what would he do? He was trapped in that body, who knows for how long, and worse, it wasn't just any body.
He would have to keep a facade up, coordinate classes, see about some sports teams, fuck, fuck. Out of sheer inertia he flexed his arms, feeling his strength. Something he'd definitely never felt before, he'd been in some jock bodies when he'd been transformed into a ghost, but it had been years since then, so much so that he didn't remember the sensation. But now it was there, in the coach's body.
He walked over to a mirror nearby to begin flexing with a mixture of surprise and fascination. He watched as his biceps swelled with a trace of amazement in his eyes.
- What a thing!
He said with a chuckle, still flexing over and over again, making funny or even a little more... flashy gestures. He laughed softly, it was strange to see the trainer like that, a stern man, who forced the students to do at least 10 laps around the track if they made a mistake, he almost barked when he spoke, but with him in charge, he looked so docile and fascinated by his new skin.
He left the gym with wooden planks that squeaked under his new weight to go to the weight room, fortunately for him, it was completely empty: He took two weights of at least 40kg each and lifted them with a loud grunt, almost like a bellowing bear.
- Pfff! - he smiled boastfully - How simple, damn it!
Elliot never cursed, never. He was like a shy and fearful mouse, but now in the man's body, he had become something else.
He flexed his arms again and again, staring at the mirror as if there was no tomorrow, he laughed under his breath, not even satisfaction could describe what he was feeling in its entirety. All a lifetime (and even on the “afterlife” path) he had been a wimp, almost like a spaghetti, while other ghosts could lift at least “normal” things, he couldn't even lift a box, but now he was more than strong, with those imposing biceps and pectorals flexing at his will, every time he wanted and felt like it, like simple jellies that quivered with a single touch.
- And what a fucking smell - he muttered as he inhaled, the trainer's scent was deep, penetrating and extremely rancid, but it caused a deep gasp to escape his lips.
The nerd felt so many things inside him, things he didn't even get to experience in his most ambitious dreams in life: strength, body hair, stench. Elliot didn't smell like anything when he was human, hopefully peanut butter but that was as far as the story went. But now, he stank, he really stank, he was stinking, sweaty, like a monument to masculinity.
- Fuck yeah...
He kept lifting different weights, smiling as he discovered the limits of his new body, intoxicated was too little to describe it.
He had always found it strange the way the trainers dressed, with those sports suits, short shorts or tight t-shirts, but now he thanked whoever was on top of them, that it was so. Because shit, he looked delicious.
He felt like every muscle would explode, but he didn't care, he wanted more and more. Until he ended up exhausted, his back wet against the back of one of the sports machines, his forehead sweating like rivers, his chest rising and falling like a drum, and that smug smile on his face, not erased by anything.
— Fuuuuck, yeah...
He finally got up, and walked to the gym office, right where "his" desk was. He slumped against the seat, making it squeak and creak, which made him let out a low chuckle, he took off his tennis shoes and socks to let his huge feet breathe.
If any of the other ghosts saw Elliot act like this, they'd be infarcted (again), the guy was no saint or anything, but he was innocent, lazy in the realm of possession, and now he had a container that was distinguished in more ways than one.
He stroked his thighs, enjoying the sensation of his calloused fingers running over his cloth-wrapped legs, he wanted more. Desire more.
- Maybe we need to get these cumbersome things off.
He moaned to slide his pants down to just a tight lower garment. It gave off a scent that would have made anyone's nose twist and recoil, but the guy just dipped his fingers between his new balls and his slit, rubbing hard and then bringing it to his nose.
- It stinks like a man should smell.
Yes, again. Any of the ghosts would freeze to see him like this. Maybe the coach's scent was too much for little Elliot, submissive to a new identity and instincts that were pulling him to the bottom. He stuck his tongue out to direct his fingers to it and from there, underneath, wanting to lubricate the area to be discovered.
- Uh... - his eyes were lost in the impulse. His hands tried to look for something in those drawers to enhance the experience, who knows, maybe the trainer was as "crazy" as he was. But he found something completely different: a singlet, neatly folded and placed under some files, he took it between his hands, noticing the stench - Wow... It seems that the coach also has a very strong opinion on the subject.
He scoffed before taking it to his nose, rubbed the front and back area against his nostrils over and over again, eager to further scramble his brain cells with the aroma. He gasped quietly until his eyes lit up with an even better idea, he quickly slid the fabric down his thighs until he left it at his waist. He giggled eagerly like someone who is debuting a toy.
- How tight... - he laughed low - What? What do you want me to grade you up? Well, I don't know. Maybe we should talk about it in other... terms.
He laughed again, flexing his arm to suck and lick the armpit, his senses sharpened as never before, even the cold blowing of the wind made him roll his eyes with a long moan. So engrossed and distracted to realize the door was opening.
- Professor, I wanted to ask you about... - And yes, Benji's bad luck again, he had stumbled upon the scene head-on - Holy shit, Zeke, is that you again!!!?
Words could not even be articulated for Elliot, he was blank. That wasn't the time, nor the plan he originally had, much less the body; he only watched as Benjamin gave a gesture of what appeared to be disavowal before leaving the room, slamming the door. The nerdy ghost lay back in the chair, defeated, tears even appeared on his face, how could he ever try to approach again after such a... dreadful slip? He lay there for a long moment until he thought about it, he hadn't even realized who it was, for Benji, maybe it was Zeke making his messes again, he had no idea who Elliot was. And he could use that to his advantage.
He took off his suit to refold it and put it back in place, putting his clothes back on to leave the place.
It was almost two o'clock, so the school hours were almost over, he walked through the school, he had no idea what the next few days would bring, he would have to prepare for classes, practice with the soccer team (holy god, what were the rules of soccer?), although as he walked, thoughts were dissipated by the rush of the wind, as the vibe hit against his face and his borrowed hair flew with it. As a ghost, sensations are reduced to a minimum, by a miracle he could feel the air or the warmth of the sun, but now, he was there.
And the worries vanished. What could happen if he didn't fully adapt to his new role? Nothing would happen, he could be wrong, the important thing was to start over. And what about returning to his ghost form? The day would come when it should, now he had opportunities in front of him. Beyond the carnal (although a rather.... “ambitious” crossed his mind, after all, those muscles equated to those of a superhero).
But besides that, he could again feel the taste of food on his palate, the aroma of another place than the Institute, different sounds, everything beyond... He smiled at the idea, ready to start whatever fate had in front of him.
Although so much positivism and optimism ended up hitting him in the face, literally. As he was about to go down the sidewalk to leave the student property, an invisible force detached him from his body and propelled him backwards, he rolled on the grass as if a rocket had hit him.
- Holy shit, are you serious? Holy shit! - the ghost shouted angrily, he had forgotten a cardinal rule: Everything that belongs to the school, stays in the school - Is this a fucking joke?!
---
Benji walked forward with a mixture of anger and fear in his eyes. He was fed up, completely fed up with every ghost in this school, how everyone wanted to talk to him, or get between his sheets. It was hell! And the worst part was that it was just for him, the school sucked, the subjects sucked, the homophobia sucked. And now this!!!
He didn't need any of that theater, he didn't want that power, he was sick of it. The ghosts seemed to be as interested in him as someone who wants to find a spoon to eat, a mere object, that was not what he wanted. They saw him, yes, but so what? Just that, there was nothing else. He was so alone and ignored, by humans and spirits alike.
Just a lonely pawn; to the other humans, he was just a source of tasks, favors and advice that vanished once his mission was completed, and to the ghosts... Well. It seemed he had no one in the world, at least no real connection, not even to his blood, it was no coincidence that of all places he had ended up at that school (because yes, it was partly one of the only ones in the state), but there was something peculiar about it (besides his economic status and whatnot), that it was a boarding school.
Keeping him as far away from home as they could, out of his parents' care, right in the blind spot. So he had absolutely no one, and he was so alone. Desperate in the midst of his anxiety, rage and melancholy. The corridors were behind him until someone slowed him down.
- Benji, are you all right? You look distressed - Peter, a friend (or at least when he remembered him), the one who had helped him so much after the gummy incident. He stood in front of him with a worried expression.
- Yeah, just... Stuff. - He lifted his shoulders without being able to say much, because who could he tell about what he was seeing without being thought crazy? Exactly, no one.
- Well, do you want to go get something to eat in the cafeteria with me? Maybe I can help you clear your head.
- That'd be nice, thanks, Pet.
- You're welcome, buddy. Let's go.
The guy smiled, Benji nodded. There was something strange about his friend, not bad, like the typical shadow that accompanies ghosts, it was something different, more... Revitalizing, but whatever it was, he liked the way it felt.
----
Hello everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it. Also, I have a question for you:
Which story do you want to follow
Zeke
Daniel
Brady
Tobias
Continue with Benji's story
Voting ended onJul 26, 2025
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.
Skinfit
My name is Tristan, I study economics in college. My dream since I was a teenager was to be part of a fraternity, to live with other guys, to form lifelong friendships, and even to be popular.
And of course, to see a lot of muscular guys, but those are other details that I discovered later. But my "average" looks and my almost null sports skills, left me completely out of the fraternities. So I could only hope for a shared room.
I was lucky to find Zachary, a very nice guy. I thought having a jock as a roommate would be chaotic, smelly and even dirty, but Zach wasn't like that.
He was pretty organized and clean, sometimes he would come in stinking of sweat and leave his clothes all over the room, but it was only when he came in tired from his workout, took a shower, picked everything up and it was like nothing had happened.
Besides, I don't complain about his scent at all... Intoxicating, penetrating, extremely masculine, and completely out of my league.
He was straight, never brought girls to the house but it was well known around campus how successful he was with girls. He was a good friend, but geez... how many times hadn't I had vivid dreams about him (that would never come true).
- Lately the light has been failing, a false contact in the bathroom light - I whispered as I took a sip from my coffee cup.
- Really? - he asked, wearing his purple compression shirt - I've hardly been home, sorry mate - he gave a sigh, though then seemed to have an idea - I know! You remember I took an electrical course, don't you? I could try to fix it, I don't think it would be that hard would it?
- Dude, really?
- Sure! I must have my tools forgotten somewhere in my room, but anything for you, buddy - he patted me on the back before going to get something from his room.
He returned shortly after. To which we both went into the bathroom.
- Are you sure you know what you're doing?
- Yes, I sometimes skipped classes in the course but I think I know the basics.
He set up a chair so he could repair the ceiling light, removed the bulb and began to move the electrical inlet carefully.
- Don't you want us to call a technician?
- Dude! Trust me, besides, we can save several dollars, trust me, look, I think I found the problem.
He placed the tip of his tool on the metal, moved it a little and at first nothing happened. Until it sparked.
The sound of electricity chilled my skin as Zach let out a choked scream, his body trembled violently without being able to break free. I swallowed nervously. I didn't know what to do, so I did the best thing I could think of: push him.
As soon as I touched it, electricity ran through my nerves as well, it was an intense pain from head to toe, but thanks to the momentum, I ended up knocking it down and cutting off the power.
Everything went dark for a second, and then I lost myself.
Soon after I opened my eyes, I felt my head hurting, my body numb and heavy. Things were blurry all around me, and everything was dark.
- Shit...
I mumbled, touching the floor, getting up with difficulty though staggering in the process. I placed my hands against the tile, feeling a strange force in my hands.
I stood up, moving darkly around the room.
- Zach? Are you...?
Before I finished the sentence, I realized something wasn't right.
My voice felt different, deep, more... masculine? My original voice wasn't high-pitched, but it wasn't this deep, I almost felt it echoed loudly every time I opened my lips.
I touched my throat, feeling a thick adam's apple. What was going on? For a moment I stopped thinking about Zach, staggered out of the room until I advanced to my own, then I saw the reflection.
- What... what the hell?
The reflection that greeted me was Zach's, mimicking my every move. For a moment I felt fear, almost panic, but then I looked at those fat pecs.
They were mine now.
I was full of muscle! I stroked my new muscles, how good my biceps felt wrapped in the tight purple fabric.
I flexed my muscles, widening my arms and enjoying how my pecs felt, even how the reliefs stuck against my T-shirt, making me let out a gasp.
Was Zach so sensitive to such an area?
It was like letting go of my senses all at once, I kneaded and squeezed my pecs hard, letting out a loud gasp. I went crazy for a while, stroking everywhere, every mound of muscle.
I reached down to my pants. Pulling the elastic to observe what was hiding inside.
- Not bad... - I smiled - I can see why you're such a hit with the ladies, dude. Just look at the size of this thing.
I sniffed with some force, which caused a wide, loud gasp that I'm sure was heard throughout the building.
I lifted my armpit to smell it, I loved the scent... And now it was mine! How many times had I dreamed of smelling it, and now it was within my complete reach! I stuck my nose again and again, filling my whole nose with sweat.
I gasped awkwardly, like a teenager with raging hormones.
I stopped touching myself for a moment to run out to Zach's room, I loved feeling my strong legs, how each footstep echoed with weight and force across the floor.
I opened the closet to start pulling out different clothes. Although there was a larger amount of t-shirts, lycra and other sportswear, so I decided to take off what was intruding between my eager hands and my dreamy body.
I weighed my fat pectorals, changed my shirt and put on a white one that was even tighter, and flexed my arms.
It was like feeling in the glory...
It had been at least five months after the change. And I couldn't be happier about it.
At first Zach, or now I should say Tristan, had a hard time getting used to the change, always complaining that he didn't want to be in that body, that he wanted to change back.
He tried again and again to recreate the accident to return us to our original bodies. But I wasn't at all interested in going back to who I was before.
I loved the way I looked now. How others were interested in me, the fact that getting anywhere, got everyone's attention. How good my body looked in tight sportswear.
And best of all: How I attracted the attention of the fraternities.
I don't understand why Zachary didn't join any of them as soon as he entered college, he was the perfect himbo to be a brother! Within mere weeks in his body, I ended up joining one of the most important and exclusive fraternities on campus.
And I loved it.
Almost every weekend there were parties, sweaty smells, and guys walking shirtless through the halls every day. It was like heaven. And best of all, no one knew that the new Zach was actually me.
Everyone was surprised for a while at how self-centered I turn out to be, how obsessed I was with my scent, or even the change from straight to gay.
Because what I loved most about this body was how guys drooled over me, I could have anyone in the palm of my hand even.
Barely five months in and I had already been with almost every guy in the frat (some "curious", some with their sexuality under wraps and some who just wanted to have a good time), I was living what as Tristan wouldn't have happened even on my best day.
Now it was Zach, full of muscles, tight clothes that left nothing to the imagination and with such an intoxicating aroma...
Anyway. I'd have a costume party in less than an hour, the good thing about being Zach now was that whatever I wore, it would look good on me.
And I could let my nerdy tastes out. All in all, I looked hot.
----
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?
