Hi, you can call me Evan, I'm just a 20-something 🏳️🌈🇲🇽 guy who's into tf. Wanna rp something? I'm up for anything, just hit the dms :)) I'll reblog the many works of this amazing community and on the work of having a small index of these stories by authors, even deactivated blogs if I can find their work. If you're under 18/legal age of ur country, please leave this is not an appropiate place for underage
Hi. I'm a 21, slim guy with dark short hair. I'm spending a few days at my uncle's house, he is 50 years old, robust and bearded. I notice he's different than I remembered him. He seems younger, more muscular, and has chest hair I didn't remember him having. I see him on the phone often… I spied on him for a moment and read Chronivac…
You walked into your Uncles living room, trying to ignore the pounding in your head as you do. Lately everything had felt… weirdly off, in a way you couldn't quite explain. Your Uncle was laying on his coach and looking at something on his phone, his huge biceps flexing as he did. You blushed slightly and adverted your eyes as he groped his own cock well looking at his phone. you didn't know why you were so uncomfortable though. Your uncle was always naked, so it wasn't like you hadn't seen it before. He looked over at you, his eyes looking you up and down like he was looking over a piece of meet, before darting back to his phone
"Whatcha want college boy?" He asked as he continued to mess with his phone
"Well, I've been thinking lately…" You started
"That what you always do isn't it. Thinking." he interuptted with a scowl
"And I was just wondering… does anything seem… off to you lately?" You asked
For the first time since you had shown up, your Uncle looked directly at you, a look of shock on his face which he quickly tried to cover up. He turned to his phone and began to type furiously. He must be doing something important to him, maybe flirting with someone over text.
"Don't know what you mean kid." He said "Everything is as its always been, isn't it?"
"I know that." You said "I know everything is normal, but it… feels weird. Like… were you always this young? I swear you were my moms older brother…"
Your uncle pressed something on his phone and looked over at you "You know what your problem is boy? You don't know how to goddamn relax. Always thinking, or at least trying to. Don't you know. country boy like you isn't made for thinking? If you can't figure that out, its no wonder you dropped out." He said with a smirk. Your brain skidded to a halt. Dropped out? You were a junior in college… weren't you?
"Dropped out? Uncle, I didn't drop out of college?"
"College? You think a dumb country boy like you went to college?" He said with a smirk "Boy, a country hick like you is only good for three things; Working on the farm, growing muscles, and fucking." He said
You wanted to protest, but… he was right, wasn't he? You were just some dumb country boy. Always had been. that was why you always listened to your uncle. he always knew what to do.
"Now…" he pressed a few more buttons on his phone and smirked "You wanna keep asking stupid questions, or you going to come suck me off like a good boy?"
You grinned, a stupid, elated grin "You got it pa!"
---
Hey there! This one ended up a little longer so I decided to give it its own post. Hope you liked it
“Okay Dad I finished mowing the lawn and cleaning out the shed can I go inside now Eric wanted me to logon and play some video games with him” I glared at my son through my sunglasses “No Jason what part of this punishment don’t you understand you don’t get to crash the car and still hangout with your friends. Go put some more sunscreen on. I don't need you giving my body skin cancer and then get the ladder and start cleaning out the gutters. You’re lucky I’m only thinking of having this last another week now get going!”
Ted had been at his wits end with his twenty one year old son Jason who spent most of his days not looking for a job but working out, drinking and partying. Then a couple of days ago he took Ted’s car and rear-ended another car because he’d been texting. All of the yelling and ranting never seemed to get through to him and he was out of ideas until his friend Rick had told him about these new infinity rings that allowed two people to switch bodies. It had really improved Rick and his stepson’s bond. Being a major cheapskate, Ted went to a pawn shop on the sketchy side of town to buy a pair at a huge discount. What Ted didn’t know is that used rings were only supposed to be sold in store or the previous wearers sexual desires could be transferred if used again without being correctly restored to factory defaults. Ted’s ring had previously been used by a body builder who was so in love with himself he paid other guys to switch with him so he could worship his own body. Maybe Ted should have known something was off when the first night of the swap he stood in front of the mirror flexing for two hours he never suspected that the ring had caused him to fall in love with his new body.
Ted took the opportunity of Jason going to the garage for the ladder to reapply his sunscreen to his new body, his fingers tracing along the ridge of each ab muscle and spending extra time rubbing each of his pecs a body this hot deserved attention all the time he thought to himself never once thinking how wrong it was that his own son's body appealed to him so much he’d already decided after the first night he was never giving it back. His dick began to grow in his shorts and he lifted up the waistband at his new dick which even though it was a little smaller than his old one thanks to the ring it was perfect in every way. He traced his finger along the vein that ran along the length of it, smiling and tossing his head back at the sight of his dick and balls that he now loved so much. Ted had hoped to make it longer in the day before he had to run up to his bedroom like he had to multiple times a day now and blow off some steam. Fully naked he placed himself on his knees so he could fit his whole body in the full length bedroom mirror and snapped a few pictures for his various dating apps looking to set up multiple men . Then he turned his attention back to the mirror adjusting his position by scooting forward and raising his legs in the air his entire reason for living now laid out before him from his beautiful face to perfect pecs down to his chiseled abs his hands roamed until they reached his plump new ass which he now gazed at in the mirror. The view drove his new dick to its full length and he began to stroke it while spanking his rear and remembering back to yesterday when he took so many photos of it his phone ran out of storage. Spreading his ass cheeks revealed a tight pink entrance he believed had probably never been explored was enough to throw him over the edge as he blew a load for the second time today. His mirror now coated in another layer he breathed heavily further appreciating the sheer power and youth his new body possessed. Just then his phone began to vibrate his various posts attracting several messages for hookups he messaged back to everyone of them. He sprung up from the floor doing a handstand and landing back on his feet and crammed his lower half into only some jeans adjusting his already stiff dick. He thought about putting on a shirt but just smirked and flexed his abs thinking it would only get in the way of whichever dude was about to worship his body in a few minutes. He ran to Jason’s motorcycle yelling he’d be at the gym and not waiting for a response as he drove away memories of a twink running his tongue up and down his body and moaning about how perfect his body was while he fucked him last night replayed in his mind. He had to remind himself to look at the road and not in his mirrors at his own body as he raced down the road.
What Jason’s father didn’t know is that his swapping ring from the pawn shop wasn’t the only one that hadn’t been reset. Jason watched his father ride away on his motorcycle he sure loved going to the gym he thought as he rushed down the ladder and into the house. It turns out the previous owner of Jason’s ring had been a gay exhibitionist who loved showing off to strangers online or really anywhere as Jason had discovered the first time he went to the grocery store and got the uncontrollable urge to pull down his shorts in the aisle. Instead of risking another incident at the store he gained a following doing live shows online. He ran into his room and fired up his camera, draping his body in his bed sheets and welcoming all his fans and showing off his sweaty body and hairy pits explaining how he had just got done doing chores around the house. He then turned around and began groping his ass and exploring his tight asshole making sure to be extremely vocal with moans that rivaled his previous girlfriend as that always made the chat light up with hearts and fire emojis.He loved the messages he got when exploring his now much older body like:
“Damn how does such a slut have the tightest hole I’ve ever seen” or “God his moaning makes me so horny”
Knowing his dad would be working out for a few hours was exactly what he wanted to hear. Jason’s phone pinged a message from his dad “ Hanging out at Rick's house don’t wait up and clean the entire downstairs it better be spotless when I get home” Jason moaned again his deep voice reverberating around the upstairs hallway and reached for his dick already hard as stone. Looks like he would be able to stay online all night he flung his head back smiling to himself as he accelerated his pace on his glistening shaft much larger and more sensitive than his old one which was already a respectable and hefty six inches. He began to pant, whimper and squirming making sure to thank all the tippers between his gasps for breath and the sound of his hefty balls smacking against his thighs. Jesus he was close he was seeing stars in his eyes and drool was escaping his mouth when he finally felt his balls churn and erupted with such force his face and even the wall behind him got covered. The viewer count and comments kept going up , it was his most viewed stream ever! He made sure to look directly into the camera and smile, wiping the white substance from his beard and sampling it, his tongue greedily cleaning each finger. He laid there panting a new layer of sweat covering his chest and stomach when the doorbell rang “UPS!” he heard yelled by the driver and he sprang up from the bed and said to his fans watching “ Yes! They're here! Stay tuned bros your not going to want to miss this”. He ordered these last night rush shipping. He bent down and opened the box. Various dildos of all shapes and sizes greeted him and made his knees shake a little. His fingers weren’t cutting it anymore; his new impossibly tight hole demanded more attention. He waved at the delivery driver who waved back before doing a double take in his mirror at the man standing naked on his porch with a hardon and something dripping from his chin before he quickly drove off in disbelief.
Soon enough the rings lay forgotten in a drawer somewhere neither man cared to ever switch back. Jason moved out and he made more than enough money working for every major porn studio. Nothing gave him more joy than knowing his hefty dick and balls were accessible to millions to watch on demand. Ted put his newfound love for his new body to work and became a male model. The only thing that loved his new body more than him was the camera. They both couldn’t be happier with how things went after they switched, never knowing Ted’s frugal nature had changed them forever.
A/N: And here we have it. You had to know this one was coming ;) !
Uh oh, that was Hayes’ dad pulling back in the driveway, less than 20 mins after leaving. And Hayes was currently standing in the living room in his dad’s briefs. Nothing had gone to plan. Hayes had seen his dad wearing briefs and wanted to try them on. No one ever talked about men wearing briefs. It was always boxers this, or boxer briefs that. Guys would say, only babies wore tighty-whities. So, it was odd for Hayes to see his dad proudly sport those exact underwear. Hayes got into his head that perhaps, his dad’s underwear were different, maybe that’s why his dad wore them.
So, on a Saturday morning when Hayes’ dad left to pickup breakfast. Hayes was more than eager to try a pair on for himself. He was determined to only try them on for a minute. His dad wouldn’t even know. The moment he got his legs through the holes and pulled up, he blacked out.
When Hayes woke up, he felt heavy. So, God damn heavy and his face itched. He scratched it, only to have his fingers be met with hair along his jaw. That was enough to jolt him awake. He jumped to his feet, half squatted, as if expecting vermin to run by. Two over-ripe pecs jiggled. Perfected muscles, experiencing the shock wave of his reaction. Confused at what he was looking down at, Hayes poked it, seeing and feeling the indentation in the skin, understanding it was his flesh.
Then he noticed the finger and hand that were poking him. Strong, veined, and brawny. The same as his arms. More fit for a construction worker than him. Wiggling them in the air, they looked more like his dad's fingers. His feet came into his view when he looked down and saw their gargantuan size, slammed into the floor. Eyes flowing up, his calves and thighs were loaded like a springboard. Only then did he realize the reason he was low was because he was still squatting. He rose slowly, surpassing his actual face worrying as his head went further into the air. By the time it stopped, Hayes felt like he was on stilts.
He tried to move around, body stumbling. His hips bumped into his dad’s dresser and the whole thing shook. The impact was barely noticeable on his end with his right thigh and glute absorbing the collision. He made his way to the living room, the first mirror he could think of, vertigo threatening to send him back to the ground. When his first footstep thundered into the living room, he spotted his dad standing directly across from him. Hayes made a shocked face that his father copied, before realizing it was his reflection. His face wasn’t his dad’s face at all, but hard to tell with the big bushy blond beard he had.
“Holy fuck!” his hands snapped over his mouth. The words came out on their own and the power behind them was brutal. That was not the voice of Hayes Colt. It wasn’t even his father, Evan Colt’s, voice. A voice as rich and deep as his father’s, but completely new. Hands grasping and pushing softly at his throat, he tried to find the cause as to why. Not knowing 'the culprit' lived much lower. He spun around but stopped when in the mirror spotted how his new tattoo reached to his far back. What had happened? How had he gotten so much older? He looked like a superhero and sounded like one.
The car pulled into the driveway. When he looked through the window, he saw his dad driving up. There was a throbbing in his dad’s briefs as Hayes for the first time since waking acknowledged the large lump, hanging down in them. Ghosting a hand over it, Hayes’ eyes went wide to discover that was indeed his dick. Warm to the touch, large, and growing. His eyes went back to his dad outside, now shutting the door. Hayes cock got larger even faster the longer he stared at his dad. And maybe he should have only worried about how much trouble he was going to be in, but he wasn’t. He was more interested in how exciting his cock was getting the closer his father walked.
A turn of the doorknob and Hayes’ dad stepped in, breakfast bag in hand. His father caught Hayes standing in the living room looking right at him. “Morning babe, got you a breakfast burrito,” He shook the bag then stopped, “Are those my underwear?”
“Yeaaah, I thought they’d look good on me.” Hayes responded and put his hands on his hips.
“They do!” His father replied, nodding, tongue tracing over his lips. “Just don’t give the neighbors a free show.” He nodded at the window. The two made their way into the kitchen where Hayes was sweating bullets that his dad hadn’t punished him yet. He kept waiting and waiting, but his dad never used the disappointed tone. Evan Colt simply unpacked the food he had brought out onto the counter. Hayes’ burrito and a few other food items sat there. As Hayes stepped up to the counter for the burrito, his dad slipped behind him. Something hard poked at his ass, with his father pressing him forward.
“I love that you wore these today, it really got me going.” Then his dad dropped to his knees pulling the back of his own underwear down to expose Hayes' new globes. His father’s mouth, then face, dove into Hayes’ ass and he got eaten out. Hayes had to sit back on his dad’s face not strong enough, even with his new body, to stand up on his own, legs wobbling from his first ass eating.
Evan Colt had his son’s ass for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Somewhere during his dad’s post-lunch, snacking and choking on Hayes’ cock, did Hayes realize he was in a world where he and his father were husbands. Though he only remembered when he was roaring a cum shot down his dad’s greedy throat. His body had inherited so much from wearing his dad’s briefs, even the man's low heavy balls constantly churning seed and testosterone. Who wouldn’t be attracted to something they made. A planned lazy Saturday for father and son became a non-stop fuck fest for lovers.
At night, both men shared the bathroom in their underwear as they brushed their teeth. Hayes had transitioned into a fresh pair post shower. His underwear was now housed in his father’s room, their room technically. The same briefs he’d worn before but resized to hold his ass and cock. The whole time they brushed their teeth his father smiled at him.
“What?” Hayes asked, toothpaste in his mouth.
“I don’t know, you’re even more handsome than usual today, can't put my finger on it.”
[APOLOGIES, THIS IMAGE (and the next) HAD TO BE REMOVED TO NOT GET THIS POST FLAGGED, visit the website!]
Hayes spat his toothpaste into the sink. “You just like seeing me in my underwear,” He smirked.
“Can you blame me? You look so manly in them.” His dad admitted.
“Heh, well If I do, I got it from you.” Hayes blushed, “Takes a certain kind of man to pull briefs off and you’ve got ass and cock for it for days.”
“So, because I wear briefs you wanted to wear them too?” Hayes’ dad asked.
“Well yeah, you’re inspirational.” Hayes set his tooth brush down, turning to exit. The comment earned him a large smack to the ass, as his father growled in his ear. They wrestled to the bed and rolled around it until it didn't matter who looked more manly in the briefs as both pairs laid on the floor on top of each other.
The next morning, Hayes rose naked, with all the beauty his father would have. Evan Colt, however, was peacefully asleep. After kissing his dad on the head, Hayes got out of bed and walked over to the new bedroom mirror. A full body reflection awaited him. Last night wasn't a dream. And it no longer mattered how manly he looked in the underwear he wore.
He was all MAN out of them.
—
Oh yes, go on dad. Please explain what the hell I’m wearing. I’m waiting.
You don’t know? I find that hard to believe. I’m not just saying that because ALL OF THIS came with a whopping heap of knowledge. These underwear—can you even call them that?—were hanging in your closet. Must have been really special to get the pants hanger treatment. Anyone with half a brain could see that.
Stop looking at my bulge dad. I can’t help that it’s a low hanger now. Blame yourself. When I put the underwear on, these straps came out of nowhere wrapping around my body. Oh, I tried to take them off, but then muscle was just pumping into me. I just kept growing and growing in your room. You wouldn’t have believed it when my pecs came in, like two properly placed slates. Then my arms got yoked and my biceps really wanted to snap these straps. I knew these shoes had to be yours when they appeared on my new monster-sized feet. Only you would stomp around in something like them. The facial hair grew in before my face even changed to look closer to yours. Huh? Yeah, I know I’m not you, I’m an older me. Ever think your son would be as big as you thanks to the secret in your closet?
So, you were wearing this when you brought men over to plow. Don’t answer, I already know that too. Did it feel good cunting them? rearranging their insides? Owning their asses? These Small black things made you feel powerful, didn’t they? I guess you fucked around enough in them they made your son actually powerful. Don’t be shy now dad, I know you’ve bent over and opened your ass in these underwear too. Guess powerful means different things on different days. Makes me want to fuck you too.
You really shouldn't worry, we have the exact same proclivities now. Here’s what we're going to do: you get over here and start worshiping me. And maybe, just maybe, if you're good, you'll get your son’s cock, or would you prefer your new daddy?
—
Reyan had no idea the laundry had gotten mixed up. Sure, the briefs were larger, but he didn’t think much of it. Wearing the same brand as his dad was bound to lead to some mix ups. So, as he bent over to pull them up, he didn’t take into account how long the journey up his legs were, or the black hair he traveled over.
Once he was standing tall, he found himself wearing a shirt via the mirror. The colors, the character. That had to be some Dragon Ball Z shit, which meant it had his dad’s name all over it. Why was he wearing it though? He wasn’t into that weeb shit like his older brother. No wait, his dad. Multiple conflicting images and memories played in his mind. Also, what the fuck was up with his face—did he always curse this much?—a freaking beard like his dad. His hair was even longer, styled back just like his older brother. The rest of the body was a pure copy and paste of the only other Indian man in the house.
Why did Reyan feel so off, when he looked so good? Maybe he shouldn't have done the laundry today after all. “Kabir, I got your shit dumbass.” He shouted out to the house, a heavy voice carrying his words out.
“Why are you blaming me, you did the laundry?” His dad answered back. “Is that what community college is teaching you? How NOT to do laundry.” Kabir's voice was laced in playfulness. Reyan was confused as he certainly wasn't in community college. With his looks wasn’t it obvious he was a fucking model? His brother could have been one too, if he put effort into it. Footsteps came up the stairs and Kabir found Reyan in his clothes. The older brother smirked, “You didn’t say you were wearing my stuff?”
“What can I say? Guess I thought they deserved to be shown off on a body worthy of them.” Reyan gave one of those younger brother annoying smirks.
“You don’t even like anime?” Kabir shot back with his own grin.
What?! Of course, Reyan did. They watched it together all the time growing up…no, he had strange images of some kid with Kabir, but when he saw Kabir watching it growing up, Reyan skirted to the other room. It was garbage for the mind; he didn’t know anything about it. He didn't want to. But then, how did he know the shirt was Dragon Ball Z inspired? His thoughts were scattered at the moment. In Reyan’s memory the reason he put on Kabir's stuff was because he liked wearing his older brother’s things, ever since he was little, even if he didn’t get it.
“What are you going to do about it?” Reyan crossed his arms, underwear still down, shirt still up.
Kabir was used to these antics. It was their foreplay by now. “Guess I have no choice, but to take them off you.” He rushed, Reyan before their lips smashed and he had his younger brother up against a wall, legs up fucking him. Kabir’s underwear hung off Reyan’s left foot, before falling to the ground.
There would need to be another laundry day, and no doubt there’d be another mix-up.
—
“You, were hiding all this from me, dad?” Harlo cupped his package over the Calvin Klein boxers.
Stephen had no idea what the hell had just happened. His son and he were taking a much-needed summer vacation. University and work were stressful and wearing them down. They only spent one night at the hotel. While lazing around that morning in their underwear, Harlo went through his father’s suitcase, squatting on the ground, before pulling out the boxers.
“Look how big these are, definitely something a dad wears.” Harlo laughed, “Like grannie panties, but for dudes.”
“Hey, don’t be jealous, your dad’s a big dude. Muscle needs room and I like my underwear loose.” Stephen corrected.
“Tsk,” Harlo sucked his teeth, “Couldn’t be me, I need my junk to be cradled.” Stephen rolled his eyes lovingly. Harlo was a jock, and even when he wasn’t working out, preferred boxer-briefs. Long since graduated from tighty-whities, his boy got stuck on what Stephen thought was a transitional stage. Harlo seemed to think they were the pinnacle of undergarments.
“Yeah, that’s pretty obvious son.” Stephen pointed at Harlo’s underwear, electric blue boxer-briefs. The two were very open around each other. Stephen didn’t like wearing any clothes while growing up, but once he was married got in the habit of at least having underwear on. It made sense why his son would pick it up. The two Baker men, underwear brothers in arms. Eventually Stephen and his wife got a divorce, but the new habit stuck. Whenever his son was over there were never any questions about attire. The two could sit on the couch and eat ice cream all day in their underwear.
There was just one problem though: the bulge. There was a point where Harlo began sporting a noticeable heft between his legs that his underwear only accentuated. Stephen’s vision was often led there, only a blind person wouldn’t see it. Stephen was aware it was his fault in a way, as it was clearly Harlo’s inheritance from him. The difference was with the boxers Stephen wore his big cock was easy to hide, Harlo’s, however, was in the open, stretching his underwear out. Harlo, as stubborn as his dad, couldn’t be convinced to put on anything else. He liked bouncing around.
Staring at his dad’s boxers, Harlo flipped them. “Doesn’t it get hard to move, with it slapping your thighs all the time?” Then, he looked over with a mischievous smirk. “Or is it not big enough yet?” he teased his father.
Stephen rolled his eyes, with a snort. “I wear boxers because my dick is so big, you’re the one clinging to your tiny boxer-briefs like some Lost Boy.”
The look that grew on Harlo’s face was classic. His typical shit-eating grin. Something mischievous was coming. Harlo stood up and yanked his boxer-briefs down, cock slapping out. He stepped out of them, “Let’s see if they're so much better,” then kicked his underwear off to the side. One foot after the other he stepped into his dad’s boxers. Then he stood there satisfied with himself, hands on his hips, staring at his father.
“This is it? All this dangle?” He twisted his hip, letting his dick shuffle around. “Not really worth—” His mouth froze. Stephen’s eyes locked in automatically, thinking it was a trip but within a second, Harlo was gone. Something was still there in Stephen’s boxers, but it wasn’t his son. It had Harlo’s shape and size, but the key word was ‘it’. Harlo had turned into a flesh mannequin, his facial features smoothed over. Before Stephen could even hop into action, the thing in the room with him grew.
Its height stretched to the ceiling as the pecs got juicier, the abs firmer, the arms thicker. A perma-tan baked itself heavily into Harlo’s skin. Stephen couldn’t believe what he was witnessing; he'd seen those features many times in the mirror. A face emerged, as the head shook, mouth mid-yawn as lips came to be. Was it shock or awe that kept Stephen on the bed? The face he saw resembled Harlo’s but so heavily influenced by Stephen’s own. The five o'clock shadow, the moustache: Stephen’s staples. When the hat and chain appeared on Harlo, Stephen was beyond sure something was mocking his style and existence.
“Holy fuck.” Harlo looked down at his body. “Guess boxers really are for men then?” His hands cradled his pecs. “You give everyone this physique?” A hand went lower, where his eyes went wide, before smirking. “You, were hiding all this from me dad?”
Stephen gulped, not out of fear, pure excitement. He could already see the curve of his ass on Harlo, now he wanted to see the front too.
—
Mr. Chun softly sighed, “Eun-jae, did you take my underwear?”
“Noooo,” The studly Korean man put his hands behind his back. He was standing in nature with his underwear– rather his dad’s underwear, exposed. The cannonball shoulders, large pecs, diamond cut abs, tree trunk thighs, all native to Mr. Chun ‘s body. The peachy ass in the back and the bulge in the front were no different either. Mr. Chun was looking at the older version of his son, now packed with an extra packing of his father’s genetics. Eun-jae’s denim jacket was transformed into a larger version, but his pants were gone. Nothing, but fabric pieces on the trail behind them.
It was supposed to be a fun morning hike for father and son. Mr. Chun did notice his son incrementally growing as they walked but couldn’t place why. He thought maybe he was going crazy. Eun-jae going from Mr. Chun’s hips to his abs, to his chest, to meet his eyeline, however, was not a mental falter. He couldn’t piece it together until Eun-jae's new ass split the last remainder of his pants down the back. There was the culprit, encasing Eun-jae’s nether regions, Mr. Chun's own briefs! The tighty-whites were certainly wrapped tight around the new man’s muscle as if they always belonged there.
Suddenly, it all made sense to Mr. Chun. His briefs were just a bit too manly for Eun-jae, the style, the cut, the brand. Sure, they looked like typical briefs but not just anyone could pull them off. Designed to hold man-ass and family jewels, they would ensure they served their mission and nothing less.
Eun-jae’s cock began to slowly peak over the waist band. Mr. Chun looked off to the side and saw how secluded it was. No one came in either direction. He took his son’s hand and led him off the trail. Once out of sight, he pulled those briefs down and fucked his son in the forest. Eun-jae's ass swallowed cock as good as his dad’s. Eun-jae had assumed the bent over position on a tree just as Mr. Chun did when questing for cock. The forest was soon full of their lovemaking, hard bodies meeting each other. Eun-jae was the first to cum, balls pulling up as he shot a fat load onto the forest floor, cock spilling about, as his father dumped a huge load inside him.
The two never would finish their walk. There were better ways to bond.
—
Hector, my Hector, mi niñito. I never knew this would happen. How could my jock strap do this? I always knew there was something different about me. Growing up, I stood taller, my muscles bigger, my cock larger, and my balls hung lower. Jockstraps kept me tied down. I never thought he’d ever want to put one on. I had just walked in, seeing Hector sitting on the bed, faced away from me, when it sealed to his waist. The world shifted.
I know why he did it. He wanted to be closer to me. He thought the jocks held some secret because I wore them so often. Begged me to buy him some so he could have a pair too. There was no convincing him, they were just for comfort: if dad wore them there had to be something special. It turned out he was right.
The changes started from him. His back cracked, widening as muscles made their way in. The brown bare ass on my sheets rounded and firmed, sinking lower into the mattress. I came around, in time to see his pecs spill forth, bringing forth arms and legs that rightfully belonged to me. My hair grew over his chest, black whiskers spilling from the sternum, swirling over his nipples until a familiar treasure trail appeared over his abs. Then the same light hairs I had on my legs and forearms took up residence on his. His face went through several changes, life phases, all impacted by me. His jaw pronounced his own facial features, but the five o'clock shadow was all mine. Then the trademark mustache grew in. My son was replaced by a man made out of testosterone in my bed.
With his first new breath, I heard the sounds of a gruff voice. On his first exhale, the house followed suit. Pictures of my son and me changed as he was replaced with the older version now in my room. Our poses became less paternal and more intimate. Hands around waists, gazing into each other’s eyes. A wedding photo of us was the main scene stealer. A large banner in the background that read: In holy matrimony Father & Son. The bed expanded, ever so slightly, for the comfortability of two bodies. As for the layout of my room, it was completely altered, as more clothes appeared. Then accessories akin to my sensibilities appeared on his body, my socks, my bracelets, my necklaces, my beanie. He even copied my nipple piercing.
I faltered back, realizing I was in a world where I was married to my son, who was the same age as me. Judging by the pictures of us with family and friends around, no one questioned how it was possible or even thought the union was strange. Smiles and good times to be had by all. Even a candid of me that sat on top of my dresser, showed my tongue fully invading Hector's mouth. The world had accepted it and given everyone, but me the memo. My mind was stressed, but my emotions were peaceful, seeing our shoes on the floor, shirts and pants hanging in the closet. Our lives became intertwined as one. My jockstrap had forcibly pulled my son up to my level.
My mind was so lost, I hadn't even noticed Hector was talking to me. “Good morning, dad!” he lowered his voice and said, “babe,” seductively. “Came to start your morning off with this?” He flexed his biceps.
Should I have rebelled? Tried to set the world, right? I didn’t. The minute his biceps rose, so did my cock. He was my husband alright, and my body knew it on a deeper level even if my consciousness didn’t. His body, fueled by my masculinity, was a sight to see. I wanted him badly and I was going to have him.
—
Jacquan Davis did not own the body. He didn’t even own the coffee. The bubble ass he was using to rest on the counter was a perfect replica of someone already sculpted. He drank his coffee, trying to get his active body to take a rest. The muscles didn’t know how to relax; they craved exercise. He even knew the coffee wasn’t the greatest idea. But that was his dad’s addiction expressing itself through him. As for his dad, now husband, Mr. Daon Davis was knocked out. Who could blame him? He had a tough day and an active night afterwards.
Daon had bought them matching underwear as a joke gift for his own Father’s Day. He was always doing stuff that made him laugh on days like that. Black briefs with white polka dots on the waist band and white vertical lines across its entirety. Jacquan had been upset, “Briefs are for kids” were his exact words. What respectable person his age or older would walk around with their ass and cock on display? Even if he knew his dad hadn't actually expected Jacquan to wear them, the gift was still a slight.
Underwear that promised to grow the bond between father and son. It made no sense. In Jacquan’s mind, men didn't wear briefs so how could a father & son set even exist? The packaging claimed to be a joke, but Jacquan wasn't laughing. For all the effort to be stupid, they may as well put cartoon characters on it and make people feel even more dumb.
And though it was supposed to be a joke, Jacquan saw his father, slipping into the larger of the pair when he thought his son wasn’t around. Daon didn’t even keep them on for long, tossing them in the laundry hamper without a second thought. That’s when Jacquan struck, sneaking into the room. If his dad wanted to humor the joke, he would too, but he wasn't going for the son's underwear, he wanted the father’s one. At least he might feel like a man that way. Once he put them on, the heat of his dad’s cock and ass were still embedded into the fabric. The connection to his own dad made Jacquan’s skin tingle, then his whole body, as the warmth flooded inside of him. A huge cock pushed out the front as his ass expanded out the back, each filling in the underwear the same way his father did.
Jacquan’s upper body and lower body morphed, rising, growing. He could feel his dad’s strength moving within him. They were connected in more ways than one. This underwear was not for sons, this pair was made to make men feel secure within them. A sort of feedback to the owner that had no side effects for the originator. However, for a stranger unused to the level of testosterone and development, even from his own father, was an overload. The body that was birthed, knew who its donator was, baking pecs fit for a man over 6’ft tall. The abs and the arms were just extra icing on the cake. Despite all the physique defining hormones Jacquan’s face stayed true even as facial hair got his lower jaw and upper lip.
His dad walked back in to find his new monumental son standing in the room in his underwear. The pull between them was electric and it was all due to those tight briefs. Jacquan’s ass and cock were filling them in a way no mere ‘son’ could. They’re bodies moved closer and soon they were on the floor rolling around, making out. Daon was the one to slide the briefs off, and soon enough was buried balls deep in his boy. His hips moved automatically, positioning in and out of the well-trained ass, until he came an entire new heaping of sons deep in Jacquan’s depths. There was no ‘cool down’ after-period. Jacquan rolled his father over and made his own claim as a man, taking his father’s ass on the floor as well.
They fucked their brains out and then some. The underwear had been like crack to their systems. Jacquan had been so wrong about who briefs were for. Only men could fuck like this, the briefs only made it hotter. They did try to call the company that made the underwear, who claimed misuse of their products. Jacquan’s transformation was his own fault for putting on a father’s pair of underwear, especially one recently worn by his dad. Words between them didn’t come until late in bed, trying to make sense of their new bond.
The next morning, Jacquan rose out of his father's bed with a strange compulsion on his tongue. He needed coffee. Then a set of events that led to his current introspection in the kitchen, coffee mug in his hand. What was next for him and his dad following this…besides the several fuck sessions.
—
I fucked up. I know that now. Putting on my dad’s jockstrap was a terrible idea. It turned me into a big hairy guy like him. Before, I didn’t properly appreciate how small I was and how easy it was to maneuver around. This body, my body, lumbered with serious weight just like my dad. Hard to sneak about with quaking footsteps. My chest was so goddamn itchy when the fur covered me. All the hair on my head migrated below my eyebrows. I wasn't a fan of the beard either. It looked nice on my dad, but made me a whole other person.
There was no benefit to being so large. Worse of all was my cock, my nuts had swelled like fucking baseballs and my cock, even soft, was thicker than a beer can. The thing wanted my attention from the moment it arrived. Had to use my hand to keep the wanting beast down, until my dad got home. He could teach me how to deal with the direct offspring of his own cock.
Maybe I should have believed my cousin, Marlon, when he called me. At first, I didn’t know it was him. His voice was deeper and he was whispering. Said he found out that his dad had special underwear and my dad did too. Marlon said once he put them on, he became as tall as his dad and as old as him. His call was to warn me not to put them on if I ever came across them. I thought Marlon was messing with me by putting on the voice. So, yeah, I headed into my dad’s room looking for the jockstrap. How was I supposed to take his word for it without confirming?
Found it easily, my dad wasn't good at hiding stuff from me. I just never knew there was something worth looking for. No idea what it was even used for. I wanted it because my dad had it. How could my cousin know about special underwear and not me? Being a shit, to stick it to my cousin, I slipped the jockstrap on and that’s where the trouble started.
Now, I'm this! A freaking gorilla and it was my own fault. My dad was going to be mad, but probably after he drained my cock. He was a cock hound through and through and so was I. He’d get a healthy dose of his grandkids, and my tongue was getting more curious to taste my brothers.
My cock throbbed.
I pray my dad gets back soon.
—
Marlon sighed, sitting in his father’s room. He hoped his cousin, Gilbert, had believed him. There was no helping him anymore. His chest sat proudly, two prominent pecs with perky nipples. Then there were his longer arms and legs, new muscularity packed into them. All foreign to him moments ago but slowly acclimating to his mind. As for his face, a nearly perfect copy and paste of his dad, no fat, all sculpted bone defining his chin. A permanent five o'clock shadow fused into his jaw with his father’s mustache chilling on his lower lip. Nothing left of who he was.
Marlon had overheard their dad’s talking at the last family get together about secret underwear in the dresser. Apparently, they only wore it on certain occasions, and Marlon was curious, or stupid enough, to go looking.
The moment he slipped on the pale green fabric, his cock jutted out, stretching the jockstrap. His father liked them tight exclusively for showing off his large appendage, and now his son was no different. Father and son shared more than just blood as Marlon experienced why his father kept the jockstrap a secret. It was as if every debaucherous thought from his dad was exposed as it flooded Marlon’s mind. The growth started silently, but Marlon couldn't hold back his moans. His body fed, redesigning itself to its former owner’s blueprint.
The jockstrap didn't know the kind, caring, fatherly image as much as it knew the man-whore. Nothing but a walking pole, practically a bottom fisher with the fat cakes he dragged everywhere in the straps. Marlon’s own butt firmed up, to massive size, while his legs pushed him higher. He could see his father in various sexual positions, bending, twisting, engaging his core and, Marlon’s mid-section bestowed the same abs onto him.
A new man, as hot as his own father, came to life. He collapsed on the ground, body weak, but blood pumping to all his new muscles. The first thing he had to do was warn his cousin. There was probably a jockstrap laying in wait to strike at his house too. They weren’t trinkets to be fucked around with; they were carriers of WMDs.
As Marlon sat on the chair, he heard the front door slam! “Marlon, Marlon” his dad’s voice was panicked as the male rushed up the stairs, “My brother said Gilbert got into his stuff and— “Marlon’s dad froze upon seeing his son, leg spread, cock print visible. He gulped standing in the doorway.
“Are you okay?” He asked, fighting to keep his eyes on Marlon’s face.
“What do you think dad?” Marlon sighed, as his cock throbbed, “I’m as horny as you! Can you ever make your dick chill the fuck out?”
“I usually compose myself…and get serious, when I think of you,” His dad stated, “Knowing you need me, it pulls me back.”
Marlon tried to earnestly follow that advice but in reverse, think of his dad. When he did however, only the sluttiest and braggadocious versions popped to mind. All the things his dad wouldn’t let his son see, but certainly a lover. Marlon’s eyes snapped open, no use his cock was aching even more, and his dad was watching a wet spot form. There was an excited jerk in his dad’s pants.
“Apologizes,” His dad halfheartedly covered his dress pants, “I don’t mean to stare, but I can’t look away. It’s like it’s calling to my dick.” His breath got heavy as he placed a foot into the room. “And I’m trying, believe me, I am to focus on my son, get serious.” He shook his head, “But your cock keeps knocking it out of my head.” His dad sat on Marlon’s spread legs and pulled out both their cocks, perfect twins leaking on each other. The strokes were slow but the gaze between the men was intense, before they locked lips. Marlon’s dad went faster as Marlon’s legs trembled, cock slicking and being slick by his father’s cock.
“FUCKKKK!!!” He cried as gallons of pent of seed came gushing out of him and landed on his pecs, before his father said “SHIT!” and his seed mixed with Marlon’s. They turned his torso into a canvas for their shared DNA.
“Goddamn,” His dad chuckled, pressing his forehead to Marlon’s, “My naughty son going through my stuff, guess that just made you even more naughty?”
“As naughty as my old man,” Marlon chuckled, before the two kissed.
The gym was nearly empty when Alex spotted his idol walking in. François looked exactly like he did in Heated Riverly...tall, lean, dark-haired, with that confident stride. The fan’s heart pounded as he watched François head straight for the free weights.
François grabbed a heavy barbell and started curling. With each rep, something strange happened. His skin took on a strange sheen, his muscles flattening, his body shrinking. By the tenth curl his arms had thinned into sleeves, his torso compressed into smooth white fabric. Another rep and his head disappeared completely, leaving only a crisp white compression shirt draped over the bench.
Alex stared, stunned, then stepped forward. He picked up the same barbell. The first lift sent heat through his chest. His shoulders broadened. His face shifted, cheekbones sharpening, stubble darkening his jaw. With every rep the change accelerated—his hair lengthened and darkened, his voice dropped an octave, his body filled out exactly like François’s. By the final set he was no longer himself; he was François Arnaud, standing shirtless in the gym, the real François now reduced to a limp white compression shirt on the bench.
Grinning, the new François snatched the shirt and pulled it over his head. The fabric stretched tight across his new chest and abs. He flexed, feeling the trapped actor’s consciousness pressed against his skin.
"Look at you," he said, voice rich with mockery. "Big movie star, reduced to gym wear. You feel that? That’s my sweat soaking into you. Every rep I do, every breath I take—you’re just along for the ride now." He ran his hands over the shirt, pressing it flat against his muscles. "Bet you never thought you’d end up clinging to a fan’s body, huh?"
He struck a pose in the mirror, admiring how perfectly the shirt hugged his transformed physique. "You’re mine now, François. My favorite new compression shirt. And I’m going to wear you every single workout."
Zac finished his shift at the front desk, heart pounding as the text from his friends confirmed everything had gone according to plan. He grabbed the keycard and headed upstairs, slipping into the suite where Connor Storrie sat bound to a chair, eyes wide with confusion and fury.
One of the " Members " of Connor's team , actually Zac’s friend handed him the leather-bound book. Zac opened it, found the page, and began reciting the ancient words. Connor’s body convulsed, shrinking rapidly until he was nothing but a pair of white Calvin Klein briefs crumpled on the floor. At the same moment, Zac’s frame stretched upward, muscles swelling, skin stretching over new bulk. His black hair lightened to Connor’s signature curly blond, and intricate tattoos bloomed across his left leg. When the transformation finished, Zac stood as the exact duplicate of the famous actor...tall, jacked, and inked.
He picked up the briefs that now contained the real Connor, brought them to his face, and dragged his tongue slowly across the soft cotton, tasting the faint salt of the actor’s skin. He sniffed deeply, inhaling Connor’s scent, then stepped into the briefs and pulled them up. The fabric molded perfectly to his new cock, the trapped actor pressed tight against his shaft. Zac gave his bulge a firm squeeze, feeling the warmth and resistance of the living underwear.
"Look at you, big shot," he mocked, palming himself through the briefs. "Reduced to my cock sock." He stroked slowly, grinding his palm over the trapped form until the fabric grew damp with precum.
Zac dressed in Connor’s tailored suit for the premiere, the tight briefs still containing the real actor. As he walked the red carpet, flashes popping around him, he kept one hand in his pocket, subtly rubbing and teasing his cock. The friction built quickly. He came hard, flooding the briefs with thick ropes of cum that soaked through the cotton and began to trickle down his thigh inside the suit pants. The warm mess clung to his skin, running in sticky rivulets while photographers captured his confident smile.
Throughout the night he continued to mock the trapped actor, whispering under his breath between interviews. "You’re just my cum rag now, Connor. Feel that load soaking into you? That’s what you are. My personal underwear, dripping with my seed while I live your life."
By the time the after-party wound down, the cum had cooled and dried against his leg, a constant reminder of his complete domination over the real Connor Storrie.
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Don't forget that I'm open for requests on who to write about next. So if you have somebody you want me to write a story about, Don't be shy and send a name.
A commission story for all of you to see!! Inspiration taken from my previous Himbo Zombie Series with a bit of dialing in on the commissioner's taste! If you all want to see commission stories, normal stories and captions early join the PATREON 's exclusive discord. You get access to all my previous work, voting on all future stories polls and access to some other perks very soon (the base tier of $5 bucks gets you all of that!! I also am opening up comms as i catch up on everything so if you'd like to join the que slide into my dms!
Now time for horny!
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Milo needed a pick me up. My gay best friend, my roommate, the guy I had known since eighth grade had just gone through a terrible breakup and needed to not think right now. Now I need to preface this: while he was my gay best friend I didn’t know shit about the gay world, it was an entirely different ecosystem, a different universe to what I understood. Hell the first time Milo showed me grindr and I saw that you could see how far away dudes were by feet I was out. They were crazy freaky like that. But I didn’t play about my boy Milo and that jackass Marcus broke his heart deserved to get his ass whoop. But I was told to play nice so this was the next best thing.
Help my gay best friend get some dick and make Marcus jealous. Now Milo would never tell me he was a bottom but just by looking at him that he was the one who took dick. Whether it was the well manicured hands, the flawless skin and always done hair. Or if it was his slim build, thick ass and tiny waist, all of him screamed “ I need dick “ and with those plump lips he was gonna get some tonight at the club. I had googled the closest gay bar on campus and found that we had more than a few so I just found the highest starred one hoping that he would have a good time. I didn’t know if had drag shows, or gogoboys or even what it looked like!
It took us way longer to get ready though because Milo was in a mood, changing out of every outfit, too self conscious and in his own head. When he finally settled for a mesh top and booty shorts (that he had originally picked out) we were finally out the door. He had tried to run back in to change but I made sure he didn't. He looked great. He looked fuckable, if he was a chick I’d tap that.
“Jason , like I said, you don’t have to do this? I know it's not really your scene!" Milo was being so sweet as we ubered our way there. I felt bad for the little guy, trying to make me feel good even though this was supposed to be his night! He always put others first, always, so i wanted to try and do this for him. He was like one of the most important people in my life, he deserved the same equal treatment he gave.
“Oh Come on milo, I’m here to be your wing man and get you some. Don’t worry about me, worry about whose dick you're going to be bouncing on!” I give him a quick shoulder punch and smile. He makes this aghast face, the same one he always makes when I rightfully accuse him of being a bottom. I mean I could totally see him literally bouncing up and down on a guy.
“These bottom allegations are getting fucking old dude. Just cause I’m femme doesn’t mean I'm only a bottom!” He says, quietly probably because he doesn't like the fact another person can hear us.
“ONLY, so you do bottom, so glad we finally admitted that, even if it's only partial.” I had to be a dick, it made him smile and laugh. I remember when we had come out to me, it was one of the few times he had been so serious and scared. It was so unlike him, but he was nervous and scared it would change things, that I would hate him or seem him different, as lesser. But Milo wasn’t lesser than me, no, far from it. Of course I had to ask if he had a crush on me, I couldn’t resist but Milo stated firmly that no, never me, we were always going to be friends in his mind. It hurt my ego but it was very sweet and made me love that dweeb all the more for it. How could I not when he got all sappy like that.
It's why when I got into the bar, all those eyes turned to look at me because let's face it I was hot. The perfect all american jock at 6’2 with clear skin. I wasn’t some muscle beast but I kept myself in shape, never missing arm day, babes always loved and commented on them and even Milo would every once in a while. The rest of me was perfectly proportional to make sure I was balanced out. I had the face, perfect nose, thick lips and maintained eyebrows, I did my hair like tiktok suggested, wore nice fitting clothes that hugged my body and ABSOLUTELY SHOWED OFF THE STAR OF THE SHOW. Which of course was my raging six inches of pure pleasure. I loved getting to rail some blonde bimbo when I had the apartment to myself, sure do I wish I was less considerate of my roommate. Sometimes it gets me laid more often but he also lived there.
All of this to say that I was definitely the belle of the ball here, most of the guys tracking my every move as we made our way, some of them catching the vibe immediately that I was straight, and half of them weren’t even deterred. I would be drinking for free tonight that was sure, and hopefully because a lot of eyes were on me, more eyes would be on Milo as he stuck nearby me, he at first was saying it was just to make sure I was comfortable but I could tell that my bottom of a best friend was really nervous to.
“Listen, if you're not careful, all that primo dick is going to think we're together and then you aren’t going to get ANY, is that really what you want?”. It was a genuine question with a dose of my disarming humor, I was down to just hang out but Milo had to get out there if he wanted any shot of getting over his ex. He was a hot twinky bottom or whatever he was called. His tight thin body, short stature, smooth skin and an ass to die for. If he had long hair and tits he would be perfect for me to fuck the shit out of. It had crossed my mind super crossfaded one time but I was too straight for that.
I could see him squirm a little, maybe it was hitting a different type of nerve. Maybe I have pushed him too quickly to go out and do something. But I see him shake his head back and forth like he is snapping himself out of it and he lets out a big brave sigh and chirpy smile looking up at me. That positivity that was somewhat forced but still so fucking radiant, you couldn’t help but admire it.
“I get what you're saying, you try and find a “SAFE SPACE” in here, I think I see a few other bros walking around. Maybe you guys can go on pussy patrol if I end up snagging some ass!” He pointedly says ass making sure he ASSERTS he could top tonight, his hand pointing out some jacked dudes entering the bar. All the men tan, shirtless with giant muscles showcased and on display for everyone to stare and gawk at. Sweaty, musky i could see the twinks and other gays turning their noses, face scrunching up as they got near em, before they shook it off, their expressions changing back. Or maybe they looked super giggly. I couldn't exactly tell I didn't know gay boy baselines, their tongues lulled out, their posture shifted almost like they were leaning closer to the smell. Some of them looked like dogs and puppies after, hungry animals waiting for their masters… that was an odd thought. Too bad none of them would be scoring anything by the looks of those men.
The idea of straight guys having a safe space in a gay bar or club made me laugh, so when Milo walked away I thought sure why not try and shoot the shit with these guys. Didn’t matter the background, a bro is a bro, and if they went to the gym like these guys did they were definitely going to be bros. They might be gay and maybe I could bring them back for Milo, I knew he had a thing for middle eastern men and they could definitely put that ass to work. God I was getting too involved in this shit I needed to get pussy as soon as possible and maybe these guys were an answer for me too. Hell even if they weren’t I could always use more guy friends.
I approached them slowly, I took note of their gait, their posture. When they walked it was this wide legged swagger walk, like their bulge pushed their legs farther apart standing up. It was cocky, arrogant like they owned the place. They were standing perfectly upright, straight with no hint of slouching. Their eyes scanned the area as they slowly, “subtly” flexed, drawing people in. Now that I was closer I could smell them, even from fifteen feet away it was strong. MASCULINE, overpowering musk wafting in the air going right into my nose. It made my brain feel foggy, my movements felt more sluggish. It made me take a deeper whiff as I felt the pull and tug to get more. They had stopped at some point, standing with drinks. Some glazed eye twink got them before literally bowing his head like they owned him or something. Their eyes landed on me and it was like they were staring directly into my soul.
They said something to that twink, I couldn’t understand them, they were speaking some other language from english but I could tell by how they said it, it was derogatory. Hell the older brother i think even spit as he said something to the twink. The twin actually bent all the way down to the floor to lick it up. Fuck i knew this was a gay club, but getting this freaky in public was crazy especially for someone who probably just called you a slur. I should speak up, should say something…. BECAUSE I ADMIRED THEM?! What no i don’t, I mean they were big.
I had never seen men so huge, their muscles all glistening under the light, that coupled with the smell that I couldn’t help but follow, it made me dazed, confused. I couldn’t stop myself from getting right in front of them, not to engage, not to say something to tell them to respect these people and their space, my head immediately scanning between the shirtless masculine gods, mouth watering in a way it never did before. They seemed to a quick scan of me, an up and down taking in my entire form, while I wore more clothes I was still fit enough to maybe compete with them - How can you compete with perfection- who the fuck, why am I calling a man perfect -just take another whiff- fuck that was a good idea.
There was this voice in my head, it sounded like mine, but more sleepy, lustful and deeper. Almost commanding if it wasn’t so calm, it disarmed me, made good points. I took a deep whiff, my shoulders relaxing, vision blurring for a second before the men spoke. Their voices are so clear, easily louder than the nonsensical gay music playing. Don’t listen to that dribble, thats for lesser men, for fa- What the fuck were these thoughts.
Its like the closer I got to them, the more I breathed in their musk the harder it was to think. My nose, my skin, it was all burning. My face even felt sweaty, like I was catching some sort of sickness, some virus by being exposed to them. God what was happening to me?
“It seems we have another convert! Brother, is it your turn or mine?” The taller one, with the bushier beard asks turning to his brother? I mean they looked alike, I wasn't one to just assume anything but they seemed more related then bros. Their faces were almost mirrors of each other, it honestly WAS SO HOT? Think of how masculine their faces were, the way their perfect jawlines and strong noses were framed by facial hair. Their deep, dark brown eyes just pulled you in close. I saw his Brother who called him Ahmed just smiled. A smile that could send anyone into a daze from how perfect it was… THEY WERE PERFECT.
“You got the fags at the door, my turn with the man Ahmed!” His eyes pull me in close, his arms go over his head and this strong, desecrated decadent musk blasted from his pits as his biceps flexed over his head. It was like a gym AND locker rooms were distilled into one man then that man had raunchy sex for hours. My eyes watered as my nose took a DEEP inhale. My feet directly in front of him now were unable to stop myself as he used one hand to pull my face right into his pit. My eyes no longer blurry, or glazed. A brief moment of clarity, much too late as the shock doesn’t stop the effect. This deep heady scent chokes me out, taking over my airwaves and brain as my eyes clothes. The last real thoughts I had. My own real thoughts are what the fuck is this gay shit, i should beat their asse-
His hands in my hair felt nice. The way that my long… long? Was my hair long? Nah i always got a fade yeah, the way his strong hand felt going through my fresh cut felt amazing. My deep black hair felt amazing especially as he got a tighter grip. My nose fully smooshed into his pit, as my hands immediately went to feeling up his perfect, sweaty body, his trim waist that led up to perfect pillowy pectorals was wonderful to grab onto. I felt my mouth fall open, my tongue lulling out against my will, my thoughts too disoriented to control any part of my body. I began lapping away at his armpit, my hands moving up his cobblestoned abs as my own body began grinding into him. Wanting to be as close as physically possible, it was the only way I was going to feel better.
“Good start Adheem, his hair is already up to standard, but he is much too pale!” Ahmed groans, his hand moving across my body. This flush heat fills me up, this deep, pulsing pleasure arching through me. That heat that started all of this even more present, a virus taking over my body, rapidly changing me into one of them. My skin, this pale white starts to deepen, till it's no longer sun kissed, but bronzed. I feel my lips plumping as I start to make out with this man's dense, bushy, delicious pit, my nose widening as I take deeper inhales. My eyes, once green start to darken, the glazed look getting stronger as my cheek bones rise. My eyebrows get bushier as my face, my new, handsome, strong, masculine face is covered with a thick layer of sweat, permanently marking me with this incredible musk. Seeping deep into my pores, never letting me go.
“Brother, he’s almost big enough already, should we indulge?” Their voices ringing, I feel Ahmed move my face from his brothers right pit to the left, worshipping, and licking this one clean. I could hear satisfied grains. The feeling of pin pricks across my face as facial hair grew till I had a perfectly groomed beard. It would tickle any sluts' skin as I took them for myself. My tongue lapping more at my brothers… brother?! My brothers pit at the thought of driving some whore crazy with just my tongue.
“Why yes, yes indulge, it's our night out! It’ll just take more of his mind!” I took a deeper whiff, my mind pulsing, on fire, eyes glazing further as I felt everything in my body start to snap, and crack. My bones become longer, more dense, nerve endings more sensitive, electric. My spine elongates as my height grows, my head and neck leaning further down to stay underneath my new brother's arm. Memories, a whole life that I once lived was flowing down from my brains and into my balls. As images of the new me, the me my new bros, my brothers, were creating started to take its place. No more education, just lifting, partying,. Fucking and spreading a gospel and hierarchy that I would enforce everywhere I went. One slut and fag at a time… fagg… I don't say that. My best friend, my roommate was.. A FAG!
Memories of college, of my desires, the girls I had dated, my gay best friend miles caught in the fire and were turning into ash. My back and shoulders broadened as my chest heaved forward. Two mountainous pecs appearing like slabs of muscle, my abs become more defined, popping up till I have an eight pack. My shirt rips apart as my biceps finally bring them to the edge, bulging biceps with veins that could easily be small snakes. My back was incredibly defined, arching as my ass grew to perfect globes, as ass that you could bounce quarters off of. An ass that No fag would ever touch if he knew what was good for him…. Fuck what am I thinking. I was thinking the truth for once brother.
I could hear my new family, my band of brothers speaking above me but they were muffled. My hands feeling up their muscles as I fully just gave in… I had to give.. Give nothing, there were still things to fight for. To believe in I could… I could PULSE.
Pushing the denim of my pants to their limit, my member, something no woman had ever complained about got hard. Harder than it ever did, leaking precum as it started to grow, snaking down my pant leg as it went from a solid six inches… Fuck a big pair of bouncing boobs… seven inches… fake dsls choking on it… eight inches… fuck a fag on his knees worshipping it… fuck not… nine inches…. Not gay… wouldnt call … fuck milo belongs down there… ten inches….. Fucking fag pretending…. Pretending to be a man… be a person… just a fucking… eleven inches… a fucking hole for real men to use… God Brain on fire.. Can’t give in…. Fuck so close… Milo on knees.. Serving real.. 12 Inches of man meat pulsing in briefs that are clinging onto me by threads…. SERVING REAL ARAB MEN…13 INCHES ready to breed and cunt bitches lesser than me.
As I came up for air from my brother's pits, his musk, my musk mingling in the air I knew my purpose, the purpose I had been given and would fulfill. A need to assert the hierarchy and put the men in this bar, in this city in their place beneath me and my brothers. My slick with sweat skin glistened in the club's light, my hormones raging in my body and my mind muddled with an endless urge to dominate, consume and breed. My past, the pathetic life I had lived before brewing in my balls waiting for me to expel it in the first bitch I’d make tonight, and I knew exactly who.
“Welcome Brother Nassim!” Ahmed pats me on the back stating my new name, his sturdy hand making a thud against the wall of muscle I had become, a big, shit eating grin crossing his face as I don’t even show a sign of being phased. His strength possibly paled to mine with the conditioning they’d done. I took note of the fags, the bois they had collected around them, different degenerates instages of submission, clothes disheveled or tighter on them, their body’s becoming physically more fit but also compact, shorter then us. They were lesser men, their stature should fit that, lean and small. My new name fit me just right and so would everything else.
“Yes Nassim, I'm sure you already have a target in mind, someone you wish to serve you?” My other brother said. He wasn’t wrong my thoughts drifted to my faggot, the one I had brought with me to this sin pit. The one who I had cared for deeply. That care was still there, twisted, no not twisted, fixed. Instead of viewing him under some false pretense and letting him believe he was something he was not. I would show him the way, it was my right and it should be me and not some other alpha, I wouldn't allow it no matter how much I cared for my brethren. Milo was MINE to claim.
“Yes brothers I’ll find you after I’ve claimed my prize!” Milo wasn’t a person to me anymore, his body, his holes, they were objects to use for my pleasure and I would make them so. There would be no doubt in his empty little head when I was done with him about what his purpose was. Flashes of him claiming to be a top, him insisting that he wasn’t just a bottom flash through my head, all of it irritating me. All of it fueling my steps, each one a loud stomp on the club floors, my musk, wafting from my own hairy, sweaty pits attracting onlookers. Men of various shapes… no not men, fags all staring at me before their eyes grow glossy, minds more malleable, waiting to be tamed. They’d get their turn, just not yet. Not till Milo.
It took me a second to find him, he was on the other end of the club, at a smaller bar, talking to some tall muscular white BOI. A pathetic excuse of muscles, wasted on someone who would never be able to use it the way it was intended. I decided to raise both my arms up, both fags almost immediate, sniff the air. Their heads shaking as eyes start to glaze. Milo, smart, especially for a faggot looks around for the source, i can tell from his face, the lack of a slacked jaw that he thinks something is wrong. I can’t help but smirk. Our eyes meet, a part of him thinks he recognizes me, but dismisses it, he has never met this form. But after tonight he wouldn’t remember a life without it.
“MOVE” I tell the obstacle, I can see his eyes glaze further, his face trying to press against the hot, sweaty, musky skin of my pecs. To feel the hairs on his face as he takes deep long whiffs of my musk. But my commandment is law and he moves across the room. Milo looks at me, both in horror and awe. My deep gruff voice stirring something within him that I can’t help but chuckle at. His pants, those booty shorts he wore to get attention, obviously only my attention, which were pathetic, bright and too tight show exactly what effect I have on him. His pathetic… why isn’t it smaller, it was like seven fucking inches, that bottom had a bigger dick then i did originally? THIS HAD TO CHANGE!
“Who are … what… what is happening?!” He asks as I get right in front of him, invading whatever pathetic personal space he has. I can see his beautiful brown eyes looking up into mine. So submissive and slutty already. I can’t wait to make them glaze over and roll into the back of his head. Make him into a dumb mindless slut, an object, a toy to play and fuck and use.
“Its me baby, can’t you see NASSIM!” the word rings out of my mouth, my voice light as I move my hands over him, before they settle on the small of his back. His tight, lean body is perfect to hold. Calling him baby makes him blush, he’s moving in closer, his breath on my chest. It was heavy, desperate, he looked so confused, pathetic, cute.
“Nassim… i dont… i don’t know a Nassim? Who… who are you?” His hands found their way to my shoulders, slowly, sweetly massaging them. My hands went down to his ass, his tight short shorts left nothing to the imagination as I grasped them. Fingers digging into the fabric and supple flesh, my sweaty fingers sinking into him. He lets out a soft moan as I pull him closer, smearing his face, his open mouth against my pecs. My musk seeping deeper into his pores, he can’t help but moan against me.
“But Habibi, of course you do, you live with me!” The pet name falls out of my lips so naturally, to call him something so sweet is wrong, but I’m happy its me who shows him his place. That I get to have this moment and all that it leads up to. To see his eyes go wider, as memories of me flash through his head, all conflicting with who I am now, till they start to burn away, fueling the thing in me, this virus of masculinity and hierarchy. I can see him try to push off of me. Try to use what pathetic little strength he has to get away but soon his hands stop pushing or shoving and start groping, traveling down my body tweaking my nipples and then tracing my abs
His eyes fully glaze as he mutters away, everything unintelligible, moans slipping out more as my fingers find their way under his shorts, one hand in the front, the other in the back. My hand slick with my sweat as I grip his lengthy cock. I can feel it PULSE in my hands, his member, hot, throbbing, but as I squeeze, he lets out this guttural moan and its length starts to shorten. His once girthy, above average package retreats inch by inch. Leaking precum the entire time as everything he once was starts to get stored down in his balls. Till there is nothing left but a pathetic nub, less then one inch and a constant leaking faucet of precum. The entire time my fingers frantically search between his now plumping cheeks. His hole winking, inviting my fingers in as he thrusts back. My mouth right next to his ear as I’m whispering obscenities to corrupt his mind.
Telling him his place below me, his need to serve me. How we were never equals, never friends. He was just a hole, a plaything, a thing to please and serve me whenever I needed. His hands got more voracious, moving down to my tight denim jeans, ripping them down as I continued to subjugate his mind. Muttered protests leaving his lips for the last time as he sinks to his knees.
His teeth pulling off my underwear, my cock smacking him across the face smearing hot precum on his cheeks and lips. Those lips plumping up, his body, the mutation, whatever it was that changed me making him the perfect pathetic plaything for me. Not some alpha, no it worked different on fags, it made them servants. God I loved this life.
Seeing him lick his face clean before asking “master, master please can i suck you? Please!”His eyes slutty, glazed over, lost in the fog of submission, looking up at me on his knees. My hands fell to his hair, resting gently on his head as I smirked and nodded at him. My eyes then trailing down to that ass of his, how it was barely contained by that embarrassment of fabric. That would be for later.
He gently grabbed my cock with his hands, reverently holding it before bringing his lips to meet my cock head. Slowly, sensually kissing it, his hands gliding along my slick shaft as he starts to move around, my shaft getting a few kisses before he quickly licks my balls making me shudder. His tongue then laps up and down my cock before it wraps around the head. His mind fully gone as he kisses it one last time, his teeth not even a threat (why would he ever be able to harm his master, they are perfectly behind his lips as he slides all the way down my monster schlong. My fuckstick makes his throat distend as he gets all the way to the hilt. My hands grab the side of his head as my eyes roll back, my instincts taking over.
“FUCK SLUT!” My voice a deep growl as I pull him almost all the way off before thrusting all the way back in. No ga reflex, just moans as I thrust in and out of this faggot. Skull fucking him as both of us give in to this new life, both our balls full, my ready to shoot load after load down his vibrating, milking throat from dominating him. He was getting off from being used, getting ready to cum hands free from being throat fucked and dominated, sealing his fate.
With a few more final thrusts I let out a deep moan before shoving myself so far down his throat, his nose smashed against my pubes, my musk frying his new brain as I fire load after load. At least twelve beautiful loads claimed him as he fired off his pathetic load sealing his fate. His body shuddered, not wanting to let go of my cock but also needing air.
I was benevolent, I pulled out of his gasping, needy throat, much to his whimpering disappointment and let him breath. His shorts stained, his shirt ruined from the sweat and saliva. His hair absolutely messed up from my rough play but he was delicious this way on his knees. Especially since there was not a single ounce of cum outside his lips. We had attracted so much attention at the bar, so many faggots drawn to our scene desperate to even get a look at the privilege I had just given my favorite slut. They would serve me, and maybe a few of them would EARN it. But they would all learn who was in charge, and who got what they wanted.
It’s been about a month since I took over Coach’s body. He doesn’t seem to be having fun teaching math in my body. Serves him right, he was such a prick to me all the time. Fuck, this body’s so sexy, I can’t stop feeling every single fiber of muscle. I’m huge! He better get used to his new life, ‘cause I’m sure as hell getting used to mine.
Axel
What does he mean ‘he won’t swap back’?! It’s my body! He’s stolen years of hard work and decades of my life. I can’t teach calculus or geometry or whatever the hell he does. He has to swap us back. Now. God damn it, where is he? I’m gonna put an end to this once and for all.
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.
All Inclusive | Ladies' Night
Jessica and her friends were on vacation in a tropical paradise. The weather was fantastic, the beaches beautiful and snow-white, and the atmosphere was festive and full of energy. However, being a new and unfamiliar place for them, going out at night was a bit... delicate. The music from the nightclub below their hotel room did little to quell their desire to go out and forget their worries.
A flyer slipped under their door was the perfect solution and idea for finding a way to get to the nightclub. It turned out the hotel had a kind of... partnership with CORPUS, Inc., the world's number one company in body swapping and rental bodies, perfect for guests who wanted the full experience in the tropical paradise.
Or, as in the case of the girls, who wanted to go out and have fun without having to worry about things like safety.
The best of both worlds. And even better, the Ladies' Night promotion was valid no matter what body they were in! That would be truly fun. Plus, as a courtesy with their all-inclusive stay, it also included all the bodies they wanted to use during their time there.
Ah... This really was paradise.
----
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.
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?
A little Valentine's Day story I wrote for my favourite @mrwavellswaps.
~~~
“Okay, say that again just so I’m clear.” Libby raised an eyebrow as she sipped her coffee, a quizzical expression pointed in the direction of her friend Lewis.
Lewis blushed a little. “I was wondering if you’d help me do something romantic for valentine's day by using your magic to transform my boyfriend into his ideal self?” He said, looking slightly embarrassed by being forced to repeat the request.
“And why exactly do you think I’d do something like that?” She replied as her coffee cup still hovered in the air without her having to hold it.
Lewis winced. “Because I’m your oldest friend and you love me a lot and this is the first guy I’ve got this serious with?”
“Firstly, you’re wrong.” Libby scoffed. “Zero is my oldest friend, I’ve known him at least 50 years longer than you.”
A small red dragon poofed into existence around Libby’s shoulders and sent a small puff of fire in Lewis’s direction in a way of saying hello. Despite looking like a woman in her late 20’s, Libby was far older than she looked. Lewis had never asked exactly how old for fear of being rude to a powerful witch, but he’d worked out she couldn’t be younger than 80. They’d met when Lewis was just a kid and his family had moved in next door to her, and now here he was over 20 years later having coffee with a woman that hadn’t aged a day since they first met.
“Secondly,” Libby continued, her expression softening. “Of course I’ll help you Lewis. Least I could do for my oldest human friend after all. It’s not like it would be too hard either. For normal witches maybe, but it’s pretty simple stuff when you’ve been kicking around as long as me.”
Lewis let out a sigh of relief. Part of him had been expecting a flat no, or to have to beg more, so this had been easier than expected. “You will? Seriously Lib you have no idea how much this means. He’s going to shit a brick when he realises all the witchy occult stuff is actually real.”
“You want me to make him do that too? Because I can, you know. It wouldn’t be the first time either, though I’d probably be gentler on Oscar when the brick comes out than-”
Lewis sputtered through the mouthful of tea he’d just drank. “No! No, god no. I don’t need my boyfriend shitting an actual brick thank you, just the physical transformation is fine.”
Libby shrugged and tried to look nonchalant, but it was obvious she was hiding a laugh. “Suit yourself little Lewis, each to their own or whatever that saying is. February fourteenth when you want it to happen then? Sometime in the early morning so you can enjoy it?”
Lewis smiled. “Yeah, that would be perfect honestly. And you’re sure this isn’t too much to ask?”
“Not in the slightest.” Libby smiled affectionately, as if a mother would at a son, at Lewis. “You’ve never asked for anything Lewis, you even turned down my offer to help you cheat on your exams as a teenager. Lewis, no one does that. So this one thing? Of course I’ll do it, especially when you and Oscar are the cutest couple I’ve seen in a long time.”
Lewis blushed and scratched the back of his neck. “Thank you Libby, really.”
“You’re welcome.” Libby grabbed the coffee cup from where it still hung in the air and drained the last of it. “Now, as much as I’d love to sit around and chat, I’ve got several rare ingredients to go and gather, and a nice big steak to cook up for Zero here.” The small dragon around Libby’s shoulders chirped happily, then let out another small puff of fire in Lewis’s direction before he vanished again.
“So the morning of the fourteenth?” Lewis asked once he’d stood up and slid his coat back on.
Libby nodded. “The morning of the fourteenth, three days' time. Three days before everything changes.”
In a dramatic flash Libby vanished from the cafe and left Lewis standing alone by their table. He waved goodbye to the owner as he walked towards what appeared to be a solid brick wall, only to pass straight through it. Witch cafe’s hid themselves to ordinary folk like him usually to allow their patrons the freedom to be themselves, he could only get in because Libby had brought him there first. He walked out of the alleyway he’d emerged in from the cafe, and glanced around before he slipped out and blended back in with the rest of the crowd to carry on with his day.
~~~
Valentine’s Day couldn’t come quick enough for Lewis. The three days between his chat with Libby and when he finally woke up in bed with Oscar that morning felt like they took years, but he was finally there. The two of them regularly stayed over at each other’s places, it was rare they spent a night apart at this point, and this time they were curled up in Lewis’s bed.
“Morning sleepyhead…” Oscar said softly as he kissed the back of Lewis’s neck. “Happy Valentine's day.”
Lewis let out a low groan in acknowledgement as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Morning babe…”
There was a chuckle from behind him and another kiss pressed against the back of Lewis’s neck. “Never been a morning person have you? I’ll get you coffee.”
“No… don’t get out of bed.” Lewis whined as he reached behind him to grab Oscar’s arm. “You’re warm…” He mumbled.
Lewis was trying to pass it off as just his usual morning sleepiness, which was half true, but in reality he didn’t want his boyfriend to leave because he knew his gift should be kicking in any second. “As soon as you’re both awake it’ll start, best way I can time it.” Libby had texted him the previous evening. He didn’t want to miss a second of what was about to happen.
Both Lewis and Oscar were fairly average in the looks department. Not unattractive by any definition, but not the absolute knockout’s that both of them tended to thirst over either. Lewis was a tiny bit shorter than his boyfriend, just over 5’8 whereas Oscar stood at around 5’11. He was slightly more well built than his boyfriend too, being the only one of the two of them that attempted any kind of activity in the gym left him with a small amount more muscle than the relatively slim build Oscar had. There was the hair too. Both had a similar colour brown hair, but Lewis tended to keep a full beard and had a decent amount more body hair than Oscar, who himself kept his facial hair trimmer fairly short.
Oscar smiled and settled back down onto the bed as Lewis rolled over to face him. “If you want to stay in bed all day that’s more than okay with m-” A strange shiver ran through Oscar’s body and he groaned, then ran his hand over his forehead with an obvious look of discomfort. “Fuck… something’s up babe!”
Lewis sat bolt upright, his eyes wide as a shimmer of what he recognised as Libby’s magic ran over Oscar’s entire body. “Listen babe, it’s okay. Just let it happen and I’ll explain afterwards okay? This is my Valentine’s day gift to you, I promise the discomfort will be worth it!”
There was a flash of recognition in Oscar’s eyes that confused Lewis for a moment, but no words as his lover continued to groan and shift around uncomfortably. Lewis was a little worried, right up until the first signs of the transformation started.
Oscar’s body started to get pulled outwards in every direction. It was like someone was blowing air into his body as his previously skinny frame started to expand, only Lewis could tell it was muscle and not air that was filling his boyfriend’s body up. Oscar had always had a slender, narrow build, so one of the first things the magic did as he started to grow was to push his shoulders wider, which broadened his whole body. He looked a good deal more thickly set now, and the muscle had barely started to grow from what Lewis could see.
“Fucking hell Lewis…” Oscar said as he felt the changes push his body further along.
Now he’d gotten broader, the magic had far more room to start to pile the muscle onto his body. Oscar’s shoulders grew wider still as they became two thick boulders, a powerful looking frame that was almost double what he’d been moments ago. This in turn pulled his back outwards as his lats flared out to keep up with the massive increase in size. The lines of muscle that ran across the massive expanse of flesh that was now Oscar’s back could be seen under the slight layer of fat there; a sign of what was to come. His arms didn’t miss out either, as biceps and triceps beefed up just like his back and shoulders had. They were forced out to the sides as his new biceps warred for space with his back muscles; he’d have to walk with that familiar swagger of a bulky jock that couldn’t quite fit his arms down by his sides.
Lewis could instantly tell what was next and he watched Oscar reach up and start to grab at his chest. The muscle pushed out around his fingers as he kneaded the two slabs, larger and thicker until it was like two watermelons had been shoved under his skin. Oscar’s new pecs were large and heavy, soft as he squeezed them, but Lewis knew they’d be hard as a rock if his lover flexed. Added to that was a strong core. He didn’t have visible abs under the slight layer of fat that covered them, but along with the hair that was starting to grow up and over the front of his body it gave Oscar a very sexy muscled torso.
Along with the hair that had started to cover his new torso, the hair on his head wasn’t spared either. Everything took on a lighter blond tone as it thinned out a touch on top of his head, shaved almost completely. His facial hair grew fuller too, an even layer of blond hair across a stronger jaw that Lewis couldn’t wait to feel as it scratched against his skin.
“I can’t believe… You had this idea too…” Oscar panted as the changes to his face finished up. “Haven’t noticed… Have you…?” He continued when all he got from Lewis was a very confused look.
Lewis couldn’t work out what his boyfriend was going on about. He glanced down, fully expecting to see his regular self, only to find a pair of massively muscular, hairy thighs in place of what he knew should be there. Lewis ran his hands over them, though the dense hair and new muscle as he marvelled at the sight. He’d always wanted to be bigger, hence why he attempted to workout when he could, but had never made enough progress to have thighs easily bigger than his head.
“W-What the fuck??” He exclaimed. “Libby was supposed to do you, not me!”
Oscar huffed out a laugh. “You too huh? We really do share the same brain cell don’t we?”
“B-But you don’t know-”
Lewis didn’t get a chance to say anymore before both men’s changes continued. Now Lewis was aware of them he could watch in awe as his body grew just as Oscar’s did. Though going in opposite directions, both had reached the point where their cocks, balls and asses had come time to change. Lewis still couldn’t feel anything despite being able to see that his ass was expanding before his eyes, unlike Oscar who was once again back to groaning in a mix of pain and pleasure. Two large muscular cheeks topped off the massive thighs that had appeared out of nowhere, whilst Oscar’s own larger ass was just the beginning of the change to his lower body.
The pair watched as their cocks grew to their full hardness. They were both fairly average in that department, somewhere between five and six inches for both. Only, once they were both as hard as they knew they could get, their cocks kept going. Their lengths continued to get harder, a few more inches of length at least were added on if either man had to guess. Along with that, their balls grew swollen and heavy with cum, and rounded out the changes that left the two with huge packages between their legs.
Now that part of their bodies had finished up, Oscar and Lewis were back to changing in opposite directions. For Oscar whose upper body had completely transformed, all that was left for him was his legs. He could hardly be expected to hold all the new size with his comparatively tiny legs, so they soon followed suit with his ass and grew muscular and thick just as Lewis’s lower body already had. Oscar had finally finished growing. The new jock flopped back on the bed and panted a little more as he caught his breath, and enjoyed the sight of his massive chest as it heaved up and down with each gulp of air.
Meanwhile, Lewis was still watching himself. Massive hairy thighs and a well above average cock already gained, he got to marvel at the sight of the transformation as it continued its way upwards. His stomach was a little more defined than Oscar’s was from what he could see as it hardened, but it was becoming hard to see clearly under the pelt of hair that was growing up his torso past his abs. He’d always loved body hair, so the thick layer of it over his legs and now upper body was a welcome sight to Lewis.
Although he didn’t have the same intense feelings, Lewis was actually a little glad for that as his chest started to swell as he’d watched Oscar’s do moments earlier. There was a noticeable difference in how his chest felt the bigger the muscles grew, a delicious weight to them that Lewis knew he wouldn’t ever get bored of. As he reached up to grab at two hairy mounds, Lewis realised his arms too had grown substantially bigger as he’d been distracted by his chest. He folded his arm up and flexed, unable to help the grin that spread over his face.
“Looks like you’re almost finished.” Oscar said from where he laid to watch Lewis grow. “Enjoying my present to you then?” He continued with a knowing smirk on his handsome face.
Lewis looked up from his body. “You fucking bet I am! Did… Did you go to Libby too? How did you know she was a witch?” He asked, since he hadn’t known that Oscar knew magic even existed.
Oscar shrugged. “It was an accident honestly. I walked in on her doing magic to fix her makeup at that party we had last summer, and apparently she ‘couldn’t be fucked with more damn mind wiping bullshit that month’, so just sat me down at showed me everything. Swore me to secrecy, and I guess she didn’t think to mention you knew about her abilities too. I asked her about a week ago if it was at all possible to do this to you, and she said yes.”
“I’ve known since I was ten babe, when she made me float whilst babysitting me.” Lewis snorted with laughter at the memory.
Oscar sat up and reached out to cup Lewis’s cheek with one hand. “Now look at you, all grown up into a big strong man thanks to her magic…”
The hand against his face made Lewis realise two things. Firstly, that Libby had already known about Oscar’s request when he’d asked and never mentioned it, or that he now knew about her magic. Secondly, was the full, bushy beard he now apparently had. He could feel the hair under Oscar’s hand pressed against his skin, and had once again not noticed himself change. He’d have to ask Libby about both of those things when he got a chance, but right now he was more focused on his gorgeous boyfriend.
Lewis twisted around and grabbed a couple of valentine’s day themed teddy bears off the nightstand they’d given each other last night, then turned back to face Oscar. “Well.. This was certainly the best Valentine's day ever, don’t you think?”
“Oh, I think these two were absolutely my favourite gift today…” Oscar held his arms out towards Lewis, but just when he thought his lover was going to grab at the teddy bears, instead he gave Lewis’s pecs a hard squeeze.
Lewis moaned. “Oh fuck babe… Don’t stop!”
Oscar happily complied. He shuffled a little closer on the bed and continued to squeeze his boyfriend’s new hairy pecs. Lewis couldn’t stop himself when he pushed his chest forwards a little and closed his eyes to enjoy all the new feelings; the even denser layer of hair over his chest, the juicy pecs his lover was playing with, everything about his new self felt unbelievable.
Things heated up from there. Oscar enjoyed Lewis’s pecs, but there was something else his body was urging him to do as well. He let go and got even closer, then before Lewis quite knew what was going on, Oscar had lifted up one of his boyfriend’s arms and pressed his face into his armpit. Oscar breathed deeply once there, then sighed as he took in the new intense smell.
“God you smell fucking good…” Oscar mumbled into the dense bush of hair as he took it all in. “Don’t you dare fucking shower today, god damn…”
Lewis raised an eyebrow as he watched the curious scene of his boyfriend going crazy for his scent. “Then you better stay down there and enjoy it babe, make the most of it today, because I’m gonna have to shower one day.” He said as he brought a hand to the back of Oscar’s head and held his lover deep under his arm.
Oscar’s cock was pressed tightly against Lewis’s leg as he inhaled the delicious smell. It was ripe and musky, an intense stink that fogged up his brain and had his cock leaking all over the skin it was trapped against. Oscar thrust his hips gently as he took it all in, which inadvertently made his furred stomach rub up against Lewis’s cock, and drive them both harder towards their orgasm. They were both already rock hard from the transformations, and both knew it wouldn’t take much more to tip them over the edge.
“Come on babe, take it all in… You love it don’t you? Me finally stinking like a real man should.” Lewis said as he started to rock his hips back in time with Oscar’s movements. “Maybe I just won’t shower for a while, let it get real strong. Would that be a good Valentine’s day gift for you?”
Oscar nodded. Just the idea of his boyfriend’s smell growing even stronger drove him insane with lust. He pressed himself deeper and continued inhaling, then before he realised he was so close, he came all over Lewis’s hairy thigh. He moaned into his boyfriend’s armpit as he rocked his hips a couple more times and felt a splatter against his stomach, accompanied by a deep groan from above him. Lewis had cum too as the pair got lost in their new selves.
~~~
Three days later Oscar and Lewis were sitting in the same magic friendly cafe Lewis had met Libby in a week ago. The witch once again sat across the table and sipped a coffee as she admired her work. Both men had turned out even better than expected, and were dressed appropriately for their new selves too. Both had gone for sleeveless hoodies, partially unzipped to show off every inch of their new hunky bodies.
“So you like how you’ve ended up? No notes on anything you’d like different?” Libby asked, even though she had a good idea of the answer already.
The pair shared a look, and both shook their heads at the same time. “No, we’re actually great as is I think.” Oscar said.
“I was wondering one thing actually…” Lewis leant forwards in his chair a little. “Why didn’t I feel myself changing? Oscar was moaning up a storm, but I didn’t even notice it happening.
Libby waved a hand dismissively. “Oh that’s quite simple. You’re used to what magic feels like, mine in particular. You’ve been surrounded in it since you were a child, so it was only natural you didn’t feel it working on your body. You’ve never felt it before when I’ve helped you get over illnesses faster than usual without telling you, so why would you have felt this?”
Lewis blinked. “You… You really did that?” Lewis paused as he thought about it, and realised she was telling the truth. He’d never been ill for very long for as far back as he could remember. “Huh, well thank you I guess.”
“It’s no trouble dear. Now, you two be sure to enjoy those bodies okay? Reality will settle around you, as I’m sure you’ve already noticed. So have fun!”
Both men smiled warmly at the witch. “We will Libby, we’ll make the most of it, you can be sure of that!” Oscar said and tucked his hands in pockets. The small, velvet box inside there felt like it was burning his hand as he stared at Lewis. He had been waiting for just the right moment, and something told him that moment would be coming up any day now.
"Do you love your new body?" Josh asked his now beefier and hornier boyfriend, Chet. Watching his clothes shred and hit the ground, he saw his muscles bulking up with every tick of the clock. He could practically hear the sound of his boyfriend’s muscles ripping, stretching, and regenerating into something larger, something Josh wanted years ago.
"Do you?" Chet asked.
"I do,"
"Then I do too. It's gonna shave off forty of my IQ and reduce me to a musclehead whose sole obsession is you. But it's all worth it. What you want is what I want. Your joy is my joy. If you want me to be more muscular, hairier, and smellier, I'll do it for you." Chet leaned closer and gave his boyfriend a deep passionate kiss. They've kissed a million times, but this felt new, felt more. The passion brewing between them was electrifying, and Chet could feel his cock tremble inside his very tight boxers. He knew he should've removed them before drinking the himbo juice.
Chet broke off the kiss and looked at his boyfriend, a new man and someone he was beginning to love again. Just yesterday, he was griping about losing their initial spark from their college dating days. It's funny that a simple milligram concoction would fix that in an hour.
"I love you, Chet." Josh loved him with refreshed vigor.
"I love you too, bro." Chet licked his lips before diving for another kiss. The intelligence he was once so proud of slipped away, replaced by an undying obsession with the man before him.
•·················•·················•
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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.
Soul To Hold | Paradise II (Final Part)
Soul To Hold | Paradise's second part
— What's wrong, Gale? – I picked up the phone to finally answer his call, almost seven missed calls. I tried to keep my voice steady, not let it crack; there were still too many things to think about. Was I being too selfish for… wanting to rethink my relationship with Parker? What would I do when our family grew? How would I explain to them that their father would be gone for days? Not because he didn't love us, but because someone else was invading his body. Or when we retired, would I still have to chase after him while I tried to stabilize myself with a cane? It was a fucking mess.
— I found some information about lighthouses. I think you want to know. In ancient times they…
— If you're going to tell me they were used to grant people's greatest wishes and last wills, I'm afraid I already know. My boyfriend is a fucking wish-granting fountain. — Well… You're fast, but I think you need to improve your reading comprehension, “Dyl” – he said in a completely mocking tone, letting out a small laugh – The same thing that causes his condition is the same thing that can end it.
— Grant… other people's wishes? Well, now he'll be Santa.
— You know I'm not bothered by your sarcasm, but concentrate, this can literally save your relationship, buddy. It's not in general; he has to grant the last wish of someone very specific, so listen carefully. And what you'll have to do next is find him.
After hanging up with Gale, I went back to the room, and to no one's surprise… Parker wasn't there again; he had completely ignored me. I moved to the lower part of the hotel, through the lobby, the bar, the pool, and… Oh crap.
— Are your muscles always this big? – There were about five guys surrounding him, all of them looking eager to run their slender, smooth hands over his abs and pecs. It was like a Renaissance painting where a demigod was surrounded by nymphs, although in this situation, the delicate nymphs were skinny guys, anxious and desperate to get my "boyfriend's" attention.
— Of course, sweetheart. Want to touch? – Parker flexed his biceps forcefully, bulging them to reveal his smelly armpit. He was acting arrogant, exuding confidence, and… Shit, the smell was reaching me. How long had the guy been inside him? It couldn't have been even an hour. Why did he stink so much?
If I didn't act now, I'd most likely see one of them dive into the water to "attend to" him, or in the worst-case scenario, kiss him, and I didn't want to risk either of those.
— Parker – I raised my hand, forcing an awkward smile. He looked up, his brow furrowed. His admirers, surrounded by him, wore even more hostile expressions, like hyenas defending their prize.
— Do you know him? – one of them murmured. I could only clench my fists, anticipating his response.
— Know me? Ha, he's my boyfriend – I said, putting on the most indignant face I could muster, though it wasn't like I had to fake it much – And I think you're getting a little too close to him, don't you think, guys?
The guys grimaced, scattering into the pool under Parker's offended gaze. His chest gleamed in the water's reflection, a few drops sliding down his hairy pecs and revealing areolas.
— Hey! You guys, where are you going? Come back! – I slowly approached him, his gaze pricked up at my presence, as if I had robbed him of the opportunity of a lifetime – Who the hell do you think you are?
— I should be asking you that. Who the hell are you? I know that body you have isn't yours.
— I-I don't know what you're talking about – his gaze and confidence crumbled, he began to look around as if it were a hidden camera show – What were you smoking? How could it not be me?
I watched him a little longer, the position of his arms, comfortably resting on the water's edge, how he stuck his chest out, though still hunched over slightly. He'd even put a chain around his neck (which I had no idea where he'd gotten it from). To make matters worse for me, Parker wasn't even wearing his collar anymore, though, with or without the collar, they'd still possess him, so… Judging by the way he was behaving, his whole posture, that vibe he was giving off, he was most likely some fat guy staying at our hotel, or who knows, maybe some guy on the plane had just happened to see Parker's body; so many tourists would give anything to possess him.
— Okay, let's keep this simple – I said, placing my hand on his shoulder, hoping Gale's instructions would be… concrete.
— What? Why are you touching me? What's wrong with you?
— Dii fati et fortunae, audite preces meas…
— What are you doing? Wh-what is that?
The tension in his body was palpable. I felt him try to move; I only had one more chance. I gripped his shoulder tighter, rolling my eyes back to sync with his words. Shit, Gale, this better be real.
— Rota, ut volvatur, ut hostis uno tactu mutetur, hodie tantum. Rota mihi in favorem operetur.
« — It’s an old spell. I have no way of knowing if it works because I’m not a beacon, so you’ll have to do it yourself. It’s supposed to be how they could make “the beacon” receive as many souls as possible in a single day in ancient times. Living souls, ghosts, wandering spirits; only… It could all go well, or very badly. There’s no guarantee you’ll find the soul you’re looking for. Also… There’s a possibility that some soul might cling so tightly to its body that you won’t be able to bring Parker back. »
I felt as if my palm and his shoulder began to burn, fused together in some forge. The intruder kept trying to back away in a panic, but our skin was stuck together. I felt the flow of energy rush from my arm to his. He shook his head.
I knew I was risking too much, that it was almost a shot in the dark. But what other choice did I have? I was doing it for us, for Parker. His body twisted, releasing a long, pitiful gasp. His head jerked back, his mouth opening slightly as if he were babbling. His eyes rolled white, and like a slot machine, they seemed to spin. His mouth opened wider. His muscles tensed, his arms stiffened like a robot's, his fingers moving erratically.
« — You can change souls periodically. You must choose a very specific area of their body to transfer to the next one. But listen carefully, Dylan. You only have until sunset. Once the sun dips below the horizon, if you haven't succeeded in time, their body will remain as it is, a vessel for the rest of their days. Are you sure you still want to try? »
I closed my eyes, inhaling and exhaling.
— Hodie tantum. Rota mihi in favorem operetur.
Parker's body finally broke free, collapsing and sinking into the pool water. I quickly approached him and grabbed him by the armpits, pulling him up. As soon as he touched the surface, he gasped for air, bouncing back and pushing me away in confusion.
— What the hell?! – he flailed, his wet hair falling across his forehead. Everything about him was soaked, and he was still struggling to stay afloat. His body felt too heavy for him, like a dolphin just learning to swim. I pulled him as close as I could to the edge of the pool so he could steady himself. Breathing heavily, he looked around – W-Wha-What am I doing here? Shit, did I fall in? – he groaned, clutching his head.
— It's okay, you're fine. Who are you?
According to Gale's research, the spell was part of a ritual involving as many beacons as possible. From dawn, priestesses arranged them in a crescent shape to allow the souls to flow one after another, fulfilling two functions: to celebrate the ephemeral nature of life alongside the spark of desires, and to give the lighthouses the opportunity to finally release their mystical work.
The priestesses had absolute control to know who was in each body, whether a lost soul, a deceased person, someone from the city itself, or even an invader; all to maintain better control.
Parker's eyes met mine, confused. I was surely about to protest when his eyes went out of focus again, as if in a glitch, and his jaw twisted.
— I work here… I'm a room attendant…
— Why is this body receiving you today?
— Envy... He doesn't have to work, he doesn't have to put up with rude and arrogant customers, he just has to be sexy... I want what he has – he muttered in a monotone, his gaze completely lost, though when he finished the sentence, his expression returned to normal, as did his eyes.
He remained confused for a moment until his gaze fell upon his torso, a gigantic smile spreading across his lips.
— Holy shit! Hahaha! No way, this is... Oh my god! – The other guests were looking at us, confused, somewhat annoyed, and well, I didn't blame them.
"Parker" was digging his new fingers into his fat pecs, with a more than delighted smile, letting out giggles as if he were unveiling the gift of his dreams. He pressed them again, making them bounce and playing with them, his tongue sticking out. He looked like a complete pervert.
I let out a soft sigh. This day would be the worst of my life…
— So you’re like… his boyfriend, then? – he muttered, still staring at some jewelry on the counter. It was the fifth store we’d visited in barely half an hour. It was a miracle I hadn’t bought anything yet; I don’t know what he wanted those… things for. Chains, rings, even earrings; Parker doesn’t even have any piercings! He just wanted to see what he could spend his new credit card on. In his own words: « If we had enough money to stay in a hotel like this, we certainly had more for him to spend however he wanted. »
— Yeah – I muttered sharply, fed up. I checked my phone to see the time: noon.
— And it doesn't... bother you? I mean, it's not like I'm your boyfriend, and don't get me wrong, I tolerate your people and their weird tastes – the comment made me press my lips together – But I'm not going to kiss you or anything, I'm a real man, dude.
— Well, actually... I like it – I lied, almost having to squeeze my leg to avoid being too obvious – It's interesting to see how other people occupy my boyfriend's body – He just raised an eyebrow.
— These weirdos and their stuff… – he muttered under his breath before noticing something on the counter that almost made his eyes pop out – Damn, how much is this?
— 1145 – the clerk barely answered, too busy with other customers to hear our conversation; but not too busy to take her eyes off Parker, giving him a few playful smiles that the waitress shamelessly returned. It was a silver chain, with some sparkles that were surely gemstone inlays or something like that
— What are you saying, fag? Would it look good on my new neck? – he said arrogantly, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal part of his collarbone and the upper part of his pecs, not missing the opportunity to smile and flex his biceps.
— Sure – my cheeks ached from forcing a smile. He signaled to the employee to pack it up, winking at her and pulling out Parker’s wallet in the process.
— What a heavy wallet, huh? Looks like his bulge isn’t the only heavy thing in those pants, ha. I’m warning you, buddy, if you think I’m going to let you do things with my new body, you’re very wrong – He clicked his tongue – I’m letting you keep me company for a while, but when night falls, don’t even wait for me in the hotel room.
I nodded, bile rising in my throat, and waited for the employee to head to the back storage room to get the register, the terminal, or who knows what. I quickly approached him and placed my hand on his shoulder, squeezing. His confused, almost offended expression faded with a long groan, his eyes rolling back in his head. I quickly grabbed my wallet and stuffed it in my pocket. I left his phone where it was in case he got lost or something, but if it were up to me, I'd keep it locked in the room until I found the right soul.
Parker's eyes continued to wander, like a machine waiting to pick up a signal. He let out a grunt, his eyes slowly returning to their usual brown. I gripped his shoulders tightly.
— Who are you?
— C-Camila…
Damn it.
The last time a woman had been in Parker's body, I had to stop her from wanting to lock herself in a women's clothing store fitting room, trying on dresses and other low-cut blouses to feel more "comfortable".
— So what are you doing here?
— I... I like this body, it's hot. I want to go out with him after he buys the chain.
Damn, the saleswoman? Well, it seems she and the room attendant are a perfect match.
I sighed; it was going to be a long day.
At least she didn't want to go off trying on clothes like there was no tomorrow, but I did have to wait almost an hour outside a bathroom while she "got comfortable".
— Fuck, no way! – I heard his cheerful voice; the scorching heat burned like the sidewalk was a frying pan and we were the scrambled eggs – Is this what it feels like to be a man?!
— Yeah, yeah... Enjoy it – I grumbled.
— I don't even have to sit down to use the bathroom! Ugh! Shit, shit! It's like a hose, haha! And these pecs are way bigger than my own bust, haha!
— This outfit is cute! Hahaha, are you sure you don't mind me using your friend? After she came out of the bathroom under Parker's command, with some stains on his shirt and a strong smell of dampness and bleach, I managed to get her to agree to return to the "comfort" of the hotel. My plan to lock my boyfriend's body in the room went completely down the drain as soon as she found his suitcase, starting to take out everything he'd brought: shirts, swimsuits, tight underwear...
— Yeah, yeah, sure – I muttered, not even bothering to clarify our true relationship anymore. I just needed to keep him there for a while so I could switch places again. — I have to admit, from the moment you walked into the store, I thought your friend was a total hottie – she said with an unusually high-pitched giggle, unbuttoning his pants and kicking them in the corner of the room. She lifted his shirt to take it off, and his boxers soon followed. She slapped his thighs hard, moving his hips in circles as she made her new tool swing like a helicopter, laughing hysterically again, his lower lip caught between his teeth, a mischievous grin on his face – This wasn’t my idea for a traditional date, but I’m not complaining, haha!
She grabbed his swimsuit and slid it down his thick, hairy thighs, giving it a tug so the elastic whipped against his buttocks.
— Mm-huh… – I didn’t even bother to look at her.
— But you know what I like most about being inside him?
— Not working in a jewelry store? – I stroked my brow.
— No! The smell, haha! – He lifted his armpits to take a deep drag from each one, flexing his arms as he stretched like a bodybuilder – I'd always found them fucking disgusting, the acrid, rancid, and fucking musky smell. Now imagine that mixed with the scorching heat, ugh, shit. But your friend? He smells heavenly – He inhaled a little more, clicking his tongue in victory – He smells like sandalwood, musk, mmm…
— Yeah, enjoy- MGHH! – He caught me off guard, slamming my face against the wet well. I tried to back away, but he only pressed harder.
— That... It smells good, doesn't it?
He cackled again like a cockatoo. She'd probably already lost her mind; that could be one of the effects of being in Parker's body. I could barely remember when the sweet old lady who ran the library suddenly found herself in my boyfriend's body and decided the best way to break it in was to be fingering himself, lying on the floor amidst books, panting like there was no tomorrow.
— Y-yes… – I murmured. I couldn't lie this time.
— I'll tell you what we're going to do now. I want to go in the pool; this heat is too delicious to waste, and then you and I are going to have some fun. This body may be heterosexual, but I'm not going to become a lesbian, haha, and you're lucky you're cute too.
He finally let go of me, winking as he walked toward the door, swaying his hips, descending the steps as if he had balloons trapped in those crimson boxers. I had to follow him until he sat down in an armchair under an umbrella, spreading his legs as wide as he could.
— Can you put sunscreen on my back? I'd hate for this hottie to melt out there – I nodded, slid behind him, and with one swift motion, pulled at his shoulder again. I only heard his mouth gasp, a couple of drops of saliva falling against his abs. I expected that, again, it would take a while to find a host. But I felt his posture suddenly change. His arms moved forward, his expression serious, almost like a gorilla's. His eyes were still blank, but the saliva started dripping much more steadily. I had to gather my courage.
— Wh-who are you?
— Dead – Parker's voice was deep, dark, like a sepulchral tone that chilled me to the bone. His eyes continued to wander uncontrollably, his body trembling as if whatever was possessing him was far too large for him to handle.
— G-ghost? – My voice cracked, hoping it was finally what I'd been waiting for.
— Hunger, intense hunger… Voracious hunger… To devour – I felt his body tremble again, writhing until something cracked. His expression slowly relaxed, his eyes returning to their normal position, but something about Parker felt… wrong.
According to Gale's instructions, a ghost was what I was supposed to expect. Ghosts were like something… sacred. Most of them were bound to the earth by unfinished business, unlived experiences, last wishes, and thwarted wills. If a ghost managed to fulfill its last wish in the body of a lighthouse through the ritual, it would be like putting a lock on it. No more involuntary possessions, no more invaders. It would be a permanent collar that would always serve its purpose. So why did they stop doing that process? Why hadn't Parker's family done it?
It was so much easier than bringing a flimsy necklace, well… Because the success rate was low. Very low. It was more likely the lighthouse would end up as a permanent receptacle; the ghosts might not want to cooperate, might keep the body of the living, might have unfinished business that was too extreme, or might be so lost that they didn't even realize they weren't alive anymore.
It was my only chance.
— You… Um… Are you hungry?
I murmured. I'd never seen Parker like this. His hands were pressed against the seat, his jaw thrust forward, his brow furrowed, his eyes scrutinizing everything around him.
— Food.
Again, that voice. Didn't it have to match Parker's tone? Why did it feel so… unsettling?
— I, uh… I can take you to the buffet if you prefer, or… – I hadn't even finished speaking when he stood up, sniffing like a coyote, his impressive pectorals swaying as he walked toward the restaurant area – Hey! Wait, you… What do you want? Who are you?
But I only caught a glimpse of his sculpted back from behind. He approached the food area to grab a plate, and without waiting long, he began to help himself from the pans and pots until the plates overflowed with all kinds of food. Fruit mixed with meat, mashed potatoes with pasta, soup, cake, water. All of it together and distributed on different plates on a table, he plunged his spoon in to stuff his mouth, grunting.
— Hungry… – he murmured again. There came a point where he got fed up with the spoon and preferred to plunge his hand completely into the food, bringing it to his mouth, chewing noisily. Crumbs fell to the floor, and a shrill burp escaped his lips. He ate like a Neanderthal. Damn, isn't there a limit to the lifespan of ghosts?
— Um…
He leaned back in his chair, Parker's abs bulging, fat, the guest in his body smiled, patting himself before letting out another burp. The waiters and other diners stared at us, puzzled and disgusted. I let out another nervous laugh, wanting the earth to swallow me whole.
— Heh…
— Are you… satisfied? Is that your… wish? Your last wish? – “Parker” raised an eyebrow in confusion, about to open his lips when another burp escaped, this time much more forcefully, as if a whirlwind had been unleashed within him. His eyes rolled back, as if his essence were dissipating, relinquishing control of Parker's body.
— Shit, no, no! – I cried out in desperation. How could I return someone's soul to control Parker's body? I tried to stand up to do something, but it was too late. The airflow was cut off, and his eyes slowly returned to their normal position, blinking.
— Shit, you again? – I thought he was talking to me, but no, he was looking at his body, caressing his skin, his pecs and abs within reach. He gave his stomach a firm slap – Heh, it feels good not to have a gigantic belly, although, looks like someone's been eating a lot, huh? – He patted his flat stomach again with pride, his pecs bouncing and his biceps flexing. That's when our eyes met, a mocking smile playing on his lips – What? Didn't you expect to see me again?
The same attitude, the same look – it was the guy from the pool.
He boasted, placing his hands behind his neck, his biceps bulging as if he wanted to mark his territory. He took a long drag under his armpit, sticking out his tongue to run it over the area. A waiter approached almost immediately.
— E-excuse me, y-you can't do that on hotel premises.
— Relax, champ. We're leaving now, right, “dear”?
He whispered that last part with complete mockery and venom. I could barely nod before he stood up, patting his pockets for the card that was our room key. He walked quickly, and I had to follow him closely.
— Where are you going?
— Where do you think, idiot? Let's see what else I can use in this body – He licked his lips, went upstairs, opened the door to enter the room, and rummaged through the suitcase.
— This body belongs to someone else.
— Oh, so what? Does your perfect boyfriend love you so much and are you going to live happily ever after? – He scoffed, shaking his head as he pulled out some shirts and tight shorts, scattering them on the floor. He even grabbed one of Parker's jockstraps – Uhhh, looks like someone was going to get some action, huh? – He kept pulling things out until he was fed up, just putting a white cap on his head – I'm sorry to inform you, but you can forget about your boyfriend, how much he loves you, and all that crap, because his body is all mine, and believe me, I have no intention of leaving here.
— B-but.
— Nah, save it – Nothing you say is going to get me out of here – he looked at the clothes again, grabbing some tight shorts and a t-shirt. Damn, I loved how that shirt looked on Parker; the sleeves were so tight they made his arms look bigger, his biceps so thick and big… – This is like a second chance, and damn, with this body I’m going to make the most of it. No more fat body, no more being a loser or holding back. You have no idea how much fun I’m going to have. And the best part is, you won’t be able to do anything to stop me.
He swayed his hips back and forth, that mocking smile never leaving his face. He grabbed the clothes to put them on, reached back into his bag for some cologne, and carefully approached me, like someone trying to tame a beast.
— Come on, don’t make that face, no hard feelings. In fact, do you want to feel your boyfriend’s lips one last time, right? Done – he smiled, gripping my waist tightly and pressing our lips together, his tongue slick, trying to find its way into my mouth. I pulled back as hard as I could before slapping him. He shook his head, laughing – Well, your loss. Don't wait up for me, and don't try to follow me and make a scene like before. Don't try me.
He pulled away to grab his key again, slamming the door shut. I breathed nervously, feeling like I couldn't move. What was I going to do?
It was worse when I glanced at the bed, finding Parker's phone on it. I checked the clock; it was six o'clock. Sunset would be at eight. If he left the hotel, where would I find him? Everything would be ruined. He'd be stuck with Parker's body forever. I'd never be able to talk to him again; it would only make things worse.
I rushed out the door, practically skipping down the stairs two steps at a time. He spun around on the last step. It was now or never. I lunged at him, not caring about the distance or the pain. I felt his back hit the floor as my bones cracked.
— What the hell are you doing?! – he tried to swish me around. My face burned; he must have hit me with his fist somewhere – LET ME GO, YOU MORON! YOU'RE NOT TAKING THIS FROM ME!
I felt another blow, and another. Parker's strength was going to make me faint if I didn't act now. I reached for his shoulder, squeezing it, closing my eyes with all my strength and hope; I couldn't lose him.
I kept pressing while I heard him moan, grunt, and his body twitch. I clung on as tightly as I could without letting go of his shoulder, continuing to press until I felt him give way. My head throbbed as if I'd been hit with a sledgehammer. I heard a groan from Parker, as if he were just waking up. I didn't loosen my grip.
— Who are you? What are you doing here?
— Ich heiße Fior und bin im Urlaub, aber ich weiß nicht so recht, was ich mit diesem Körper anfangen soll. Ich will einfach nur Spaß haben.
What the hell had I said? I swallowed. Maybe… I needed to ask again.
— Who are you?
— Wow, ist das mein Körper?! – I heard “Parker” let out an excited laugh. I jumped up to look at him. He had a radiant smile on his lips, which soon turned into a gasp, his legs kicking – Verdammt, ich fühle mich wieder jung!
— I-I don’t understand you…
This was even worse. What was I going to do?! Was he… Russian? Dutch?
— Was meinst du? Wie sehen meine neuen Brustmuskeln aus? – He bit his lower lip as his hands moved to his torso, squeezing and digging his fingers into it as if it were jelly. He slapped himself hard, tracing the edge of his areola with a delighted, almost sick, and arrogant expression.
— Can you understand me? Do you know what I’m saying? – I tried to mime.
— Du redest viel, Mann. Obwohl, verdammt, du siehst auch gut aus. Willst du nicht mit mir spazieren gehen? Vorhin warst du ja fast auf mir, haha – He stood up beside me, then extended his hand and helped me up.
— Please, just tell me if you’re a ghost. The rest doesn’t matter. You can touch yourself all you want, but tell me you’re what I’m looking for.
— Weißt du was? Ich will diesen Körper mal ausprobieren. Ich könnte so viel damit anstellen. Früher war ich ein Turnstar. Ich war unglaublich! Ich will einfach nur sehen, was diese dicken Beine so draufhaben. Ich frage mich, wie diese riesigen Füße wohl riechen.
All that came out of his lips were words I couldn’t understand. The tone was harsh, raspy, and sounded… cheerful, but that didn’t help me at all. I picked up my watch again; there wasn’t much time left.
— Look, if you understand me, I need you to help me with something. It’ll sound strange, but… you’re in my boyfriend’s body, okay? You understand, my boyfriend, B-O-Y-F-R-I-E-N-D! I-I need you to leave him. I need you to help me move into another soul, another person.
— Ich verstehe dich überhaupt nicht, Mann, haha. Du redest zu viel. Deine schönen Lippen sollten für was Besseres gut sein. Ich würde dich so gern küssen … Aber willst du nicht lieber sehen, was ich kann?
Parker started moving forward on his own, shoulders back, a natural arrogance, flexing his biceps, delighted. He took a couple of steps until he reached a gigantic tree. What the hell was he going to do?
— I… Please, can you do what I asked you?
— Ich hab keine Ahnung, wovon du redest, Mann! Aber sieh mal. Diese Arme sind wie die eines Gorillas. Ich zeig dir jetzt, was ich kann! – He stretched his legs out from side to side like a professional athlete ready to be launched from the starting line, and suddenly, he jumped up to reach one of the branches, starting to flex upwards, as if he were on a pull-up bar.
— Woah! Calm down, you’re going to hurt yourself, get down!
— Gefällt es dir? Ha, ich wusste, dass du diesen Muskeln nicht widerstehen kannst. Ich kann es kaum erwarten, dich in meinem Bett zu haben! — he winked at me, he was about to flex again when something else seemed to enter Parker's body, his lips opened wide, his body began to twist, letting go of the branch and falling against the grass, his eyes rolled back much more violently than before, his hands stiffened, his feet and legs moving up and down, grunting, panting, he didn't know what to do.
I waited a few minutes until, little by little, he began to relax, his breathing returning to normal. I looked at the clock again; it was seven. The sky was beginning to turn orange, the sun on the horizon, slowly descending, reminding me of the agreed-upon time limit.
— Ugh… Goddammit – he slowly sat up. I tried to put my hand on his shoulder.
— Who are you? What do you want in him? – I expected the same result as the other times, but only managed to make him move away.
— Dude, what the hell is wrong with you? That hurts – he grunted, remaining like that for a while until he went still, frozen – You… You just touched me, how did you do that? No one has touched me in years! And, ah! – He looked at his hands in front of him, large, strong, his fingers long. He grabbed some of the strands of hair from his forehead and pulled them forward, noticing their curved shape – A-Am I… Am I alive? Ha! B-but how?!
— A-are you a ghost?
— Yes! Wow! These things are… Hahaha! – He chuckled, unsure where to place his hands, on his thighs, biceps, pecs, or even lifting the elastic of his boxers to see under his pants – I never been this big, fuck!
— Haven't you… possessed someone?
— Damn, no, haha! I thought that only happened in movies. I never thought we could do that. Are you possessing that guy too?
— No, um… It's hard to explain – I murmured.
What should I do? Tell him the truth? Risk him running away like the others?
He continued looking at my body for a while, standing up to examine it – his height, his weight – even glancing back a bit to check out the "merchandise".
— Whoa, man, if I had this body, I would have gone crazy for guys.
— Guys? Are you... gay?
— Yeah, is that a problem? – His gaze darkened for a second, as if he were ready to raise his fists.
— No, none at all. I... I am too. And... Have you ever... you know, been with someone?
His posture gradually relaxed, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The hotel where we were staying was just a few steps from the beach. We could hear the waves caressing the sand, breaking against the coastal rocks. He looked down at his shoes to take them off, beginning to walk slowly on the sand. He gestured for me to walk alongside him.
— Yeah, I was with someone, a long time ago – He let out a soft laugh.
— How long ago?
— Several decades ago, it was the '60s, I think – he inhaled slowly – I loved coming to this beach with him.
I moved closer to him slowly, his gaze heavy with sadness, tinged with blue.
— And he... Did he break up with you?
— I would have loved for him to, maybe he would be okay, but no. We never broke up, it was just... Life. You know? – He lowered his gaze, sitting down on the damp sand with me beside him – A very cruel trick life played.
— What happened?
— The old days, the ignorance, the hatred... It was on this very beach – he murmured, scooping up some mounds of sand and piling them on top of each other, forming mounds that crumbled with each addition – The same one we loved, the same one that witnessed our last breath.
— Is he... a ghost too?
— No, I don't think so – he offered a melancholic smile – I've been here so long and I've never found him. I've seen other ghosts, too many. You'd be surprised how many people stay here; but him… He's nowhere. Maybe he's somewhere I can't go, trapped here forever.
He hugged his legs, burying his head in them.
— And… What would your wish be then?
His gaze remained fixed on the sand. A snail in the distance was moving forward, trying to avoid being carried away by the waves. It was surely looking for a shell, a refuge in this world so merciless to a creature as tiny as him.
— To say goodbye. At least to give him the farewell he deserved, not just here.
The silence between us lasted a while. I looked around, dug a little in the sand, finding a small translucent stone. It must have been a piece of glass that had been shaped by the constant waves. I brought my hand to his, placed it on his palm, and closed it.
— Would you allow me to accompany you?
His gaze lingered on me for a moment, confused, unsure what to say. He nodded, smiling, and I slowly dug a shallow hole in the sand. He stared at the stone for a while longer.
— My love… – he murmured, his voice breaking. He inhaled softly, trying to find his strength – I want to tell you so many things. For so many years I waited to tell you face to face, but I suppose fate had other plans again, didn't it? – He let out a melancholic laugh, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks – I still remember how handsome you looked, how shy, so… beautiful as always. I cling to those memories when I want to be strong, when I miss you more than you can imagine. I miss you every day, my love – A silence fell over him as he watched the sun slowly set – Maybe in another life, don't you think? Maybe we'll be together again, and fate will give us more time. More time to see your quirks, your silly tantrums, and to always choose you, day after day, regardless of the doubts or the bad times, just you and me, the two of us against the world. I love you, my ray of sunshine.
He brought the pebble to his lips to give it a soft kiss, wiping away his tears and letting out a sigh. He placed the pebble in the small hole, covering it little by little, letting the sea water wash over both our feet.
We stayed like that for a while, barely a toenail visible in the sunlight.
— This body is more important to you than you're letting on, isn't it?
— I…
— It's okay, you don't have to explain anything. It shows in your eyes; you remind me of myself, actually. I think we have more in common than you realize – he chuckled softly, shaking his head. He took my hands in his, smiling – I'm glad that true love continues to blossom even in your day. It's clear you care; I'm sure you'd do anything for him. Don't lose him; he's very lucky to have you – He stroked my cheek protectively before ruffling my hair – Thank you, thank you so much for helping me say goodbye. I hope I can find him soon.
He stepped back slightly, gazing at the horizon, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh, his calm smile never fading. The sun disappeared completely, leaving only the shimmering sea and the orange-painted sky. My breath nearly caught in my throat; time was up; it was all over. I let out a painful sob, burying my face in my hands, tears streaming down my face. What would I say to Gale? What would I do without Parker now?
— Why are you crying?
I stood still as a statue, slowly lowering my hands to look at him beside me. He wore an exhausted smile, his face a little pale, dark circles beneath his eyes.
— Park?...
— Hi, little cloud – I rushed to him and hugged him, sobbing a little harder. I clung to him tightly. Was this really real? Was this really him? I reached out again to squeeze his shoulder – Ouch, that hurts. It’s okay, you did it – he murmured, cradling me in his arms and placing a chaste kiss on my forehead.
— B-but how?
— I don’t know, to be honest, this whole day has been chaos – he let out a tired laugh, shaking his head – I feel like I’ve been on a roller coaster a hundred times, but this last “presence” was… different, almost… comforting, you know? I don’t know how to explain it – He looked at his palms in confusion, letting out a soft laugh – I’ve never felt so… free. It wasn’t invasive, it wasn’t abrupt, it was like being in an oasis, calm.
— I thought I was going to lose you – I sobbed. He just shook his head, pulling me back against his chest, shaking his head again.
— No, my love…
— I... I'm sorry – my voice broke – I shouldn't have risked so much, I shouldn't have listened to Gale so much, everything could have gone wrong, I...
— You... You saved me, Dylan – he cupped my cheeks, gently wiping them – Whatever you did, I feel different, I feel... I – he chuckled softly – I feel “steady”, you know? I don't feel like anything can come and take control of me, I'm in control of my body, for the first time it's just me! – He laughed, his hands cupping his cheeks, a sparkle in his eyes – Thank you, my love, thank you!
He cupped my cheeks again and placed a soft kiss against my lips, caressing my hair, intertwining it with his fingers. He pulled away only to press our foreheads and the tips of our noses together.
— You're welcome, darling – I murmured, taking his hand and kissing the back of it. I snuggled against his legs, watching as the sky gradually shifted to a deeper shade of purple until it melted into a deep blue. Finally, it would just be us, just him and me.
----
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.
Thank you so much to everyone who has followed Dylan and Parker's story since the first Soul to Hold. Officially, their story ends here. I hope you enjoyed it; I really enjoyed writing this third part, full of drama, fast pace, and even an emotional moment.
Although this couple has said goodbye, Gale's storyline is still very much alive (and well, maybe no one can enter Parker's body anymore, but his brother can always do it back, haha).
I hope you enjoyed this series as much as I did.
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?
Walter felt a strange combination of pleasure and anxiety as he walked around the locker room in just his underwear. He glanced down at himself, admiring the ripped body and bulging muscles that now belonged to him, courtesy of the soul-snatching spell he had used to steal Diego Guerrero's body. He couldn't help but smirk as he thought about all of the opportunities this new body would give him, free from the shackles of being the locker room janitor.
His gaze then shifted towards a nearby mirror where he saw an image of himself admiring his newfound physique. Taking out his phone, Walter snapped a selfie before departing with a satisfied smile.
-a request that was given quite a long time ago. Thanks for the pictures and idea Dan!
Once upon a cool Friday night there were two people who made the same desperate wish. “I wish I could lead a different life,” said Officer Jason Rex and college freshman Leo Marks. You see Officer Jason was always so stressed about his work life and wished he’d chosen a different career path, while Jason had just been rejected by his crush and wished he’d find someone to love. A certain story teller was listening and managed to write their dream into reality.
The following morning Jason woke to a bit of confusion. He remembered being on a stakeout and falling asleep from pure boredom. Only this place he was now in, was not a police car. Instead it was a college dorm room. His immediate instinct was to examine his surrounding. He got up with an ease he hadn’t felt in years, but found himself face to face with his answer.
“That’s me?” he said instinctively taking out his phone. “I’ll have to make sure I document this or else no one will believe me and… man I have such a tight body. No where near as bulky as my old one, but being this cut is kind of cute.” Before he could examine his body any closer there was a knock on his door. He made his way to the entrance and opened the door revealing a stunningly beautiful dark skinned young woman. “Leo! I heard the news. I don’t know what that guy was thinking rejecting you! You helped me get over Raul, so if you need ANYTHING just let me know ok?” Jason was stunned, both by the ranting girl in front of him and his immediate boner. “I’ll tell you one thing you could do,” he smirked. The girl immediately blushed. “What!? Leo!? I thought you were-”
“You thought I was blind? Because I’d have to be to miss the most amazingly beautfiul girl in front of me.” Before another word could be spoken Jason leaned in to kiss the girl. Initially surprised, she eventually leaned in as well. She didn’t know what got into Leo, but she was going to like it.
Meanwhile across town a startled Leo wakes up in a police car.
“W-where am I?” Leo mutters to himself. “Why am I wearing this uniform and how’d I get in this car? Am I dreaming?” Leo then looks to his side and notices a perplexed officer sitting next to him. “Jason. You’re talking crazy. Why don’t I drop you off and you can tell me if you’re dreaming or not.” Leo just nodded. He was never good at talking to guys he found attractive, and this cop next to him certainly was. Tanned, 5 o’clock stubble, and a square jaw. Leo had to do everything in his power to not drool.
“Here we are! Just take care of yourself. I’ll pick you up later and we can head to the station together. Okay partner?” “P-partner?” Leo asked blushing. The cop just rolled his eyes as he drove off. Leo was now standing on his front steps, realizing just how much his body had changed. He was a lot taller from this perspective. He stumbled his way into the small house in front of him, reached for unfamiliar keys in his pocket, and made his way inside.
The interior wasn’t anything to brag about. “Uh, typical. A straight bachelor pad is just so… boring!” Leo made his way through the lack luster house and found himself in the bedroom, where he was finally greeted with his new appearance. “OMG!? Is that me?” He quickly took off his exterior shirt leaving him only with a standard police undershirt.
“I have GOT to snap a picture of this!” he said, doing his best to hold back his excitement. That excitement faded when he realized that his new phone didn’t have his instagram, tumblr, or even his facebook. “How am I gonna show off these pictures!” he groaned. At that point he received a text from his partner. “You ok?” Leo gave a wry smile and sent the picture. “I’m doing just fine, sexy.”
There was a pause before another text came in. “I’ll be right over. Told the captain we’d be busy.” Leo’s newfound confidence shocked even him as he couldn’t get over what he’d just said. Then he glanced one look in the mirror. He wasn’t the nervous kid he was before. He was a buff dude, with stubble, and a hot guy coming over. He gave a quick flex to the mirror and ran his hand through his short cut hair. He heard the door bell and ran over. He was about to have a great night.
So… Just thought I'd start streaming stuff online and get a good community built for me to enjoy ya know? Drawing and gaming and all that cool streamer, right chat?
Eh? Filter extension to let me be someone else on stream, and there's settings on it? Might as well make a splash for a first impression so I ticked the Jock and Biker options and let the camera roll..
"Sup Chat! Welcome to the Alpha Zone! Today I'm gonna be showing you guys how to get bitches and twinks weak in the knees with only your body and your badass self~"
---
Heya. So I've been with a friend today and we made up a bet: depending on who won the world cup today, we would transform into someone of that Nationality. I was rooting for Argentina and when if they lost i would become a spaniard. My friend pinned me down on the floor and forced me to drink a mysterious liquid, am I going to be ok?… and why does he look so hot all of a sudden?
It turns out, your friend was far more invested in that bet than he ever admitted. You're a Spaniard alright (Congrats to Spain for the win!) But you're also gay, slutty, and completely in love with your former best friend. If it helps, your friend was probably going to make you drink the potion no matter what. but hey, at least you got some muscles and a boyfriend out of the deal
---
My bf and I got invited to a "special party" as the very cute guy who invited us said in a town called Maxford for whatever reason it is but we love partying so whatever. Anyways, I normally take a while to get prepared so my bf went before me to see what it has to offer but its been a while since he responded, Im sure he is just having some fun waiting for me.
You groaned as you looked at your phone. Another weird, douchey text from some dumb jock whose number had somehow gotten mixed up with your boyfriends. You had to wonder if someone at the party had taken his phone and was sending this stuff as a prank. You just hoped your boyfriend was ok, since he had a habit of getting a little too drunk at these things. Hopefully he-
-was already chatting up some primo pussy. Your bro might be a sloppy drunk who was blowing up your phone, but goddamn he was a good wingman. By the end of the night, both of you were gonna have bitches riding your cocks, you just knew it.
---
I got bored one day and saw a big alpha male dude bullying some hairy overweight dude. I decided to “mind my own business” by walking past by and swipe data cards from both men. Inserting both card in my phone, I decided to take all the bully size, muscle and masculinity and compressed into a file then send to the other guy. It’s fun seeing the “alpha” completely confused as his clothes fall off and he the same height as the man he bully. Now the real fun begins when I unzip the file into the hairy overweight dude.
I have literally no idea how you were able to use these guys phones to literally hack their reality, but I have to admit, I love seeing some muscle stealing justice out there. I bet that formerly overweight guy is going to be very grateful~
---
You made me a good dad one time so I’m wondering what I would be like as a douchey dead beat dad instead.
You actually want to be a bad dad? I know variety is the spice of life, but I feel kind of bad for the kids involved. Guess I can always turn you back later, or give them a different dad. So, let’s get into this!
Welcome to the new you. You’re beefy, crude, and a total douchebag. The kind of guy who will give a girl the most amazing, sex filled night of her life, and the kick her out in the morning. It’s honestly a shock you’ve only managed to knock up three girls, but I guess the number doesn’t matter since you’re not in their lives anyways. After all, why would you wanna be a dad when you can be a fucking daddy?~
---
My bf is transparently still hung up on his ex, and it's hard to blame them. I'm a skinny mid-30s blonde guy and they are both outgoing in-shape hunks… were it not that one is Latino and the other Asian you'd easily believe they are brothers. Hell I'd be hung up on my ex if he looked like either of them. Still, it sucks to be me in all this. Can you help me out?
So, the bad news is that your boyfriend did get back together with his ex. The good news is that so did you. Your new muscles and cock make you so horny your boyfriend can’t handle it all on your own, so now you’re all in a polycule. Have fun having the body of a god and two boyfriends who you love beyond belief!
---
Hey guys! Hope you like another round of short discord tfs! I've had a lot of fun writing them, and they're great for staying in practice when I'm too busy for a longer story. Speaking of which, I'm going to have a pretty busy few weeks coming up, so don't be alarmed if I become less active. Keep an eye out for upcoming stories, and have fun!
I'm a gay guy in my early 20s, starting to get muscular, with dark curly hair. I just got back home from the gym, opened my bag to wash my gear, but... none of my stuff is here. There's only a pair of Freegun boxers. How'd they end up here? They reek... Damn, they scream straight, dumbass gym bro. I'm not sure what to do with them...
The gym bag was open on the bed.
He, a gay guy just over twenty, with dark, curly hair, still sweaty after his workout, was rummaging through it to get the clothes to wash. But there was nothing. Just a pair of boxer briefs.
They weren't his.
They were Freegun. Red. Bright red. The fabric was thick, technical, made for a real gym enthusiast.
He took them in his hands. They smelled. A strong, masculine smell, of sour sweat, of an unwashed armpit, of something animal.
He was disgusted. "That's disgusting..."
But they were there. How had they ended up in his bag? Maybe someone had accidentally mixed them up. Or maybe not.
The fabric was warm. Strange. A tingling ran through his fingers. The boxer briefs seemed to vibrate. A thought crossed his mind: Try them on.
"No, no, no..."
But his hands, as if moved by a primal instinct, began lowering his shorts. He took off the boxer briefs he was wearing. He put on the red ones.
The fabric clung to his hips like a second skin. Warm. Too warm.
Then it began.
A dense heat rose from his lower abdomen. The sweat that was already there became copious. Streams running down his back, across his chest, down his legs.
"Ah..."
A moan. His voice was getting lower.
The muscles he had started building at the gym exploded. His biceps swelled, the veins surfaced. His pectorals lifted, becoming two heavy plates. His abs became sculpted.
"Ah... fuck... yes..."
Another moan. Rougher. His jaw widened. His chin became more pronounced. His dark, curly hair began to fall. Tufts flying away. And in their place, new hair grew. Light brown. Shorter. Thicker. A simple haircut, like a real man's.
The beard appeared on his chin. Thick. Light brown. It grew before his eyes, framing his square jaw.
His body swelled. His shoulders widened, his back became a V. His thighs exploded, his buttocks lifted. And his penis. He felt his penis grow, swell, press against the red fabric. The bulge was enormous. Obscene. A package sticking out, provocative.
"Ah... AH!"
The final jolt. His whole body contracted, his muscles tensing.
Then silence.
He was still there. But he was no longer himself.
He looked at his reflection in the window. He was enormous. Huge pectorals, veiny arms, broad shoulders. Thick beard, short light-brown hair. The perfect gym-built body.
But something had changed inside.
He looked at his muscles. And he liked it. A feeling of pride, of power. "Yes... that's so fucking cool..."
He adjusted the bulge in the red boxer briefs. It was big. Too big. He smiled with satisfaction.
Then he heard a noise. An explosion. It smelled. A loud fart that broke the silence.
He laughed. "Haha, that's fucking awesome..."
He approached the mirror, flexing his biceps. The beard gave him a tough look. Like a real man.
"I'm a fucking hassle..." He muttered. His voice was hoarse, low. "The girls will go crazy."
He touched his hard, smooth chest. The smell of sweat was strong. Thick. Masculine. He liked it.
He felt his phone vibrate. A female friend. He didn't look at it. Now he was only thinking about the gym. Only about getting bigger.
"I'm not working out today... fuck yes... tomorrow I'll double it."
Another fart. It smelled. He laughed again.
The old him was gone. Now there was a rough, smelly gym bro, obsessed with muscles and girls.
Short Story: An Interesting Tidbit on a Mystic Forum
Title: An Interesting Tidbit on a Mystic Forum
For those of us who enjoy stealing other people's identities—whether through possession, body swapping, or other means—most usually prefer doing it out of sight. But let me tell you, that’s not always the case. If you're skilled enough, you can pull it off right in the middle of a crowd
Take my own case, for instance. Naturally, my method of choice is possession. And to keep things interesting—and not make it too easy—I don't turn myself into a ghost or a slime to possess someone. Instead, I use a method that involves physical touch, merging, and then taking over
The setup was simple: first, you need a target. Today, my eyes were set on a young police officer who was busy directing traffic and helping out the public...
Let’s get the plan started. I blended into the crowd and finally got close enough to reach him. In the blink of an eye, I stepped up right behind him. A split second later, I thrust my hand forward, sinking it straight into his body. Before he could even cry out, I lunged forward, forcing my entire form into his
The critical moment here is gaining control as fast as possible. Usually, when entering someone else’s body, the host tends to groan or resist, drawing unwanted attention. But for an expert like me, I can take control instantly. The possessed body might stumble, its eyes might widen, or it might make a slight twitch—and in less than a second, I’m inside
Now that I’ve successfully possessed him, I spent a few seconds adjusting to this new body before acting like him and continuing the job
After possessing someone, most people immediately do whatever they want. Sure, I want to as well, but for me, I prefer to enjoy trying out the host’s daily routine first. Oh yeah, going to the gym is awesome when you're using someone else's body. And my absolute favorite part? Exploring just how good this possessed body looks. Wow, it’s such a rush taking off my shirt at the gym and snapping photos while inside someone else's body
It feels amazing. Now it’s time to have some real fun in this young cop’s body. I flash a sly, wickedly charming smirk before turning back around, switching my expression back to the host's usual gym face... End of post
How about a story about a homophobic frat jock who gets turned into the husband of his gay, middle aged english professor?
Jared had everything he could want. The looks, the friends, girls drooling over him, the athletic ability... the list went on. The only thing he didn't have was a good grade in his stupid intro to English course. To Jared, school was just an obstacle to the things he would rather be focusing on. His time partying, working out, and practicing on the field were all higher priorities for him. The only thing grades were good for were maintaining his sports scholarship.
"C'mon man, you can't fail me." Jared insisted, "I'll write a stupid essay or something. Ever heard of extra credit?"
Dr. Peters sighed, "Jared, I know you have the potential. You're a bright young man and..."
"Enough with the bullshitting." The young jock continued, "I'm sure I could pass your class if I gave a fuck." His eyes narrowed.
"In all my years of teaching, I've never..." Dr. Peters paused and regained his composure, "Look, I'm sorry Jared, but I can't just change your grade." He put the papers he had been reading down as his phone buzzed, "I'm sorry, I have to take this."
Jared watched as his professor stepped away and the young man sighed. Did he lose his cool? Yeah. Did it hurt his case? Fuck yeah. But he wasn't about to let some washed out, gay English nerd fuck with his life. Jared looked down at the papers Dr. Peters was reading and smirked. Without a second thought, he grabbed it and left the room.
-------------
Was stealing a bunch of papers from his English professor the best revenge he could think of? No, not at all. But when Jared started reading them, he nearly died from laughter.
"Did he write this shit?" Jared smirked, taking in Dr. Peter's handwriting, "Oh my god, dude needs to learn to type. Probably can't even afford a laptop on his shitty salary."
As Jared started to read the pages he had stolen, his expression shifted. He couldn't believe what he was reading.
"What a pervert." Jared chuckled, "This is what you spend your time writing about?" The story was unlike anything he expected. It detailed an intimate encounter between two men - Dr. Peters and an assistant coach named Chris, "You dirty fucker," Jared whispered under his breath.
But he couldn't help but continue to read over each line. The story unfolded with vivid descriptions of a burly, handsome assistant football coach, Chris. The broad shoulders, thick gut, hirsute form- oozing masculinity.
"So that's the type of guy Peters gets off to." Jared mused, "What a…" He shifted uncomfortably as he felt his cock beginning to stiffen, tenting against his jeans, "The fuck…?" He smirked, "Guess its been a bit since I got off…" He whispered.
Jared kept reading, his curiosity piqued despite himself. The story described how the English professor ran a hand through the assistant coach's thick chest hair, tracing the lines of muscle beneath. As he read these words, Jared felt an odd itching sensation on his own chest. He absently scratched at it, not realizing that fine hairs were beginning to sprout across his smooth skin.
He continued to read, now fully engrossed in the erotic tale unfolding before him. The professor leaned in closer to the coach, breathing in the scent of his cologne mixed with sweat. Jared inhaled deeply- he could swear he smelled it too. It was rugged, musky, and deliciously masculine. And it was coming from him. His own musky pits… And it smelled so good…
"What the hell." Jared shook his head, "Alright… time to put this down…"
Jared tried to set the papers aside, but found himself unable to look away. The story had taken hold of him, drawing him deeper into its world. As he read on, the characters' encounter grew more heated. The professor pressed his lips to the coach's neck, feeling the coarse stubble against his face. Jared winced as hairs sprouted from his own jawline, growing thicker until he sported a scraggly, manly beard.
"Wh-what the fuck?"
He tried to lift a hand to confirm what he had felt. But his hands remained stuck in place, holding the story. He couldn't even move his head, forced to stare at the pages and read what was on them.
"I can't move…" He stuttered, "I can't…"
Jared couldn't help but continue to read. Read the description of professor grasping the coach's muscular arms, Jared could feel his own biceps swell and thicken. But he couldn't look. Couldn't see the changes that the story wrought on his lean muscles and athletic form.
"Ohhhh... fuck…" He moaned.
The story detailed how the professor trailed kisses down the coach's chest, circling his nipples with his tongue. Jared gasped, feeling his own nipples harden and tingle. He wanted to look down, to see if they had darkened and enlarged like the coach's, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from the pages. But he could feel his pecs swell, thickening with muscle, while also sagging and softening with age.
"Pl-please let me go…" Jared begged.
He read as the coach groaned, his hands roaming over the professor's body. Jared's fingers twitched, aching to do the same. To explore every inch of someone else's skin, to feel another man beneath him. He shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts. But they persisted, growing stronger with each passing moment. As the characters in the story began to undress each other, Jared felt his own clothes start to come undone and vanish, leaving him completely naked on his bed.
"Feels so good..." The cool air on his warm skin sent a shudder of pleasure through his increasingly larger form.
As Jared read on, he felt his scalp begin to tingle. He tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the vivid descriptions of the characters' bodies pressing together. But the sensation grew more intense, spreading across his entire head.
He gasped as he felt strands of hair loosen and fall away. More followed, clinging to his fingers as he reached up to feel the thinning locks. Panic surged through him, but he couldn't stop reading. The story described the professor running his hands through the coach's thinning hair, and Jared felt his own recede further, revealing more of his scalp.
"No… please no…" He whimpered, but the words came out slurred and weak. His voice was changing too, deepening into a gravelly rasp. He could hear the difference, but couldn't process what it meant.
Jared's eyes widened as he felt a sudden burst of heat across his skin. The story detailed the professor trailing kisses down the coach's chest, across his hairy belly and lower still. Jared gasped, feeling coarse hairs erupt across his own once-smooth torso. They sprang up everywhere - his chest, back, shoulders. He felt like a walking carpet, covered in a thick pelt of dark fur.
"I can't be becoming him... I can't be.... fuck..."
Despite the alarming changes, Jared found himself growing more aroused. The descriptions of the characters' bodies pressing together, their sweaty skin sliding against each other, filled him with a primal hunger. He craved that closeness, that intimacy. He wanted to feel another man's strong arms around him.
"Oh fuck that… I'm not gay…" The pace of his breathing had quickened, his mind was racing as he tried to process the changes, "I'm Jared. I'm not…"
The story described the professor reaching down to grasp the coach's throbbing cock, feeling it pulse in his hand. Jared moaned, his own member responding in kind. It lengthened and thickened. Pre-cum leaked from the tip, dripping down onto his furry thighs. He couldn't believe how sensitive he had become, how desperately he needed release.
"I need… I need…" He whimpered, but he couldn't find the words. Couldn't articulate the burning desire coursing through his veins. All he knew was that he craved another man's touch. Craved the feeling of being filled, of being used.
Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him.
Strong arms wrapped around Jared's waist, pulling him back against a solid, muscular frame. He gasped, his eyes snapping open as he realized he was no longer alone. Realized he wasn't even in his dorm room anymore. He was in a bedroom. Their bedroom. Their? No he was… he was… His eyes widened as the papers in his hands vanished, as the the story's words faded away, instead replaced by reality.
"W-what the fuck?" He stammered, trying to turn around. But the arms held him firmly in place.
A low, husky voice rumbled in his ear, "I love you, babe."
Jared froze, recognizing that voice instantly. It was Dr. Peters. But how?
Before he could process it further, he felt the older man's hand wrap around his throbbing cock. Fingers closed around the base, squeezing gently. Jared cried out, his hips bucking involuntarily.
"Yes, right there," Jared heard himself say, but the voice didn't belong to him. It was deeper, gruffer, and laced with lust. He tried to open his mouth to protest, but no sound came out. Instead, his lips formed a smile as he pushed back against Dr. Peters' hand.
Panic surged through Jared's mind as he realized he wasn't in control of his own body anymore. He was trapped, watching helplessly as the assistant coach persona took over. The one from the story.
"Please, don't stop," Coach moaned, his hips rocking in time with Dr. Peters' strokes. "I need you inside me."
As Dr. Peters guided him towards the bed, Jared's vision blurred. The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was a wedding band glinting on his own finger. Memories flooded his mind - memories of a life he hadn't lived. Of loving Dr. Peters, of being loved by him. Of countless nights spent entwined in each other's arms, of waking up to the older man's warm embrace.
-----------
"Babe? Babe?" Jared stirred awake, his eyelids fluttering open. He blinked groggily, trying to orient himself. The last thing he remembered was… what exactly? Something about a story... about Dr. Peters… No... Evan. His husband...
"Thank god, you passed out," Evan said, relief evident in his voice. He sat on the edge of the bed, a concerned look etched on his face. "I was worried sick about you."
Jared frowned, confusion clouding his mind. Passed out? Worried? What was going on? He glanced down at his hand, noticing the wedding band for the first time. It was gold, simple, but unmistakable. He lifted his hand to examine it, but Evan caught his wrist gently.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Evan murmured, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of Jared's hand.
Jared found himself nodding along, allowing Dr. Peters to guide him towards the bathroom. As they walked, Jared inspected his body. The thick chest hair, the broad shoulders, the paunch around his middle. None of it made sense. He was supposed to be a fit, muscular college athlete, not this… not this…
"Babe?"
As Jared looked at Evan, something clicked into place. The concern in his eyes, the gentle touch of his hands, the familiarity of his voice - it all fell together like pieces of a puzzle. This was his husband. His lover. The man he had built a life with. With a swift movement, Jared pushed Evan backwards onto the couch, pinning him beneath his weight. The older man yelped in surprise, but quickly melted into a pleased smile as he felt Jared's erection press against his thigh.
"We can't just leave it hanging like that, can we?"
Evan's TF corner @tf-evansblog - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
