Body Swap And Shit

Temporary Boyfriend

My friend Grace has always been kinda weird, but this time she really outdid herself. After having a massive blowout with her boyfriend Chris right before their big summer trip abroad, she talked me into swapping bodies with him using her genius dad’s secret machine. The swap went down that same night in their basement lab, and the second I came to in Chris’s chubby body, the feeling was overwhelming. Everything felt so different from my own female body. There was no more light, delicate frame or the familiar sway of hips and breasts. Instead I was suddenly this big, soft, huggable guy with a round, plush belly that jiggled heavily when I stood up, thick soft fat on my sides hanging over the waistband of my shorts, and my sensitive chest bouncing with every breath in a completely new and heavier way. My hands couldn’t stop exploring, squeezing the warm, squishy flesh of my stomach and feeling my thick thighs rub together, while the heavy, unfamiliar weight between my legs started throbbing with a rush of unexpected arousal that felt way more direct and intense than anything I’d ever experienced as a girl.

Grace’s eyes lit up as she watched, pressing herself tight against me and sinking her fingers deep into my soft chest and belly. She bit her lip hard, then whispered breathlessly, “God, you feel so fucking good like this. Way sexier than him.” I grinned with Chris’s easy boyish smile, pulled her closer so my soft belly pressed warmly against her, and said in his warm, slightly husky voice, “Hey babe… I’m really sorry about that stupid fight before. I hate when we argue, you know? You mean everything to me.” The sweet, genuine apology in Chris’s familiar tone made Grace blush deeply, her cheeks turning bright pink as she melted against me like she was truly with her boyfriend again. I stood there flushed and breathing hard, totally lost in the addictive sensation of being inside this chubby, cuddly male form, knowing that tomorrow we’d be flying overseas like this with me spending the whole vacation fully in Chris’s soft, sensitive body.

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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.

CORPUS.Inc - All Inclusive

Tired of the endless work routine? Want a vacation but think it's too expensive? CORPUS, Inc. has the perfect solution! Introducing the "All-Inclusive" program. A new way to travel without worrying about overpriced accommodations, airlines, gas costs, or even luggage!

Our body swap system allows you to access the body of a local in the place you want to visit, depending on your needs. Want a muscular guy? There's bound to be someone in the area with those characteristics!

A twink? A more mature man? A sweaty himbo to ride the waves? Of course, it's done!

With coverage across almost the globe, going to a country on the other side of the world is no longer a distant dream or something that requires a lot of saving. From paradisiacal beach destinations like Latin America or Australia.

To colder, icy destinations like Sweden and parts of Europe. Even Japan is among our options for you to have the best vacation you can imagine!

Enjoy your all-inclusive stay, and at the same time, enjoy walking in someone else's shoes. Any body type, characteristics, and shapes are welcome. You can even rent your own body to generate income while you travel!

What are you waiting for to try "All Inclusive" with CORPUS, Inc.? The best option for vacationing and enjoying being someone you're not. 

CORPUS, Inc. Where dreams are born.

CORPUS, Inc. is not responsible for the misuse of your body by another guest. The exchange of body and consciousness has a slight margin of error in "psyche assimilation" due to our use of a neural network, so changes in your personality, sexual orientation, phobias, or languages ​​spoken may become permanent. In case of loss of your original body, the client agrees to inhabit the substitute body assigned by the company for the rest of their life. By signing, you waive your right to miss your former life. 

Enjoy your journey and thank you for trusting CORPUS, Inc. The number one bodyswap and possessions’ company worldwide.

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Hey everyone!

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

This story is rather short, but it has a "deceptive" twist: I'd love to write more for you all! And to celebrate this special possessed summer, vacations and everything else, I'd like to ask you: What body would you like to be in? Where have you always wanted to travel but for one reason or another haven't been able to? 

It's time to make your fantasies a reality! They might not be extremely long stories, but they would also give me time to work and write, to create something special for you all. If you've already left your request in my inbox, in the comments, or anywhere else, rest assured that I'm already working on it. In fact, several of you gave me this idea with your requests for vacation bodies or even for using CORPUS, Inc. for other purposes (wink wink).

Feel free to tell me your ideas, be open to whatever you want, and be creative. The sky's the limit. I'm very excited to read your ideas!

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!

"Doug and Matt's Cigar Adventure: A Mr. Cachimbo Story" PART 1 OF 2

Matt was a happy man. It was the year 2004 and he had just gotten a job with MorphCorp. He had never heard of the company before the interview and he had to move to the Midwest to a small town. A recruiter had actually come to him! Crazy! For someone that had only a few years of barista experience under his belt after graduating, it was a dream come true. MorphCorp had an office that was indistinguishable from any other. It was bland and it paid well. It was perfect.

He had found kindred spirits in Douglas, who was a little bit older than himself. Douglas was nearing 30 and the two of them were just happy to be employed. The work was fairly dull accounting work with some data analysis but with room for advancement according to the recruiter, whose name he couldn't even remember anymore.

"Matt, I need you to do these spreadsheets again. You confused two different companies," Mr. Scott admonished. He had been working for MorphCorp. for less than half a year now.

"I'm...so sorry, Sir. I'm so sorry. Oh my gosh, I can't believe I did that."

"Well. These things can happen. Relabel them. You mixed up the data so just make sure it's accurate. I went through your recent work and the rest is solid."

"It won't happen again. I am, again, so sorry. I apologize."

Matt was falling over himself trying to make up for a small mistake. He was desperate to keep this job. It was after all his first real job, the first job that ever paid him close to a living wage. He could even afford his own apartment! It had all fallen into his lap. He didn't think it would ever happen to him. Finding a job in a professional setting had been nearly impossible for the first few years after he graduated.

One day, they were called into the manager's office. Mr. Scott was a no nonsense kind of guy. A sturdy, classic handsome dad type in his early 50s.

"Alright, let's see...I have a proposal for a new project for you two. You will get a bonus if you accept. The project is for a cigar company in Nicaragua that is looking to build a base of operations here in the US. We are handling the logistics. You'll meet with the American representative of the company later this week should you accept."

Doug and Matt looked at each other. Doug was smiling. Matt was more curious.

"I...don't really know anything about cigars," he admitted. "I don't smoke."

"Well, it's not a prerequisite, of course. But you should know that it will pay you triple what you make now for as long as you are working on this project."

They both raised their eyebrows to that.

"Will I have to actually smoke the cigars?" Matt enquired, hesitantly.

"You will. At least to break bread with the client. His name is Cachimbo. He'll be meeting you at the Rusty Nail tomorrow evening should you accept. And if it's your first time, don't worry. He indicated that he wanted at least one team member who had zero cigar experience. I already know Doug here likes to have a stick every now and then."

"Really. Why?" Matt was confused.

"Because he wants men just like yourself with no cigar experience and welcome them into the cigar world. He considers it a challenge. Triple pay. I need to know yes or now right now."

"Yes. I mean, sure. I just..."

"I'll teach him how to smoke one. Don't worry. You'll love it. You might get a little bit sick at first when you start out but it goes away quickly. Totally worth it once you get the hang of it. Cigars feel amazing. Way better than cigarettes," Doug gushed. He really wanted to help Matt out here. This could be a big break for both of them!

Matt shook his head and shook his manager's hand.

The following day was fairly routine. They received an itinerary for the next week. Mr. Cachimbo had arrived days earlier and was eager to meet them the next day. The Rusty Nail was an old saloon at the edge of town. A place for local men to unwind. Smoking was allowed, which is why Matt never went in. He was a California boy sensitive to his own health but this job did pay a lot...

Doug spent about 30 minutes talking about cigars. He talked about nicotine levels, different tastes, gauges and shapes. He even had printed out a guide on cigar shapes and types for Matt to learn.

A man's shadow crossed over them.

"From the look of those stogies, I'm guessing you're the boys from MorphCorp." The friendly man smiled. He looked European Hispanic, with the slightest bit of a Columbian accent. He was ridiculously handsome and introduced himself as Mr. Manuel Cachimbo, dressed in an expensive suit and carrying himself with absolute certainty and poise. Matt was instantly mesmerized. This guy was like a walking poster for masculinity. The man's muscles bulged underneath his tailor made suit. His sparkling eyes and insanely good looks made him stand out in a bar full of ordinary Midwesterners.

Matt listened carefully as Mr. Cachimbo explained he wanted to target men Matt's age who were new to cigars with an underground campaign to spread word about his company: Abuelo Fuerte. It translated as "Strong Grandfather". He would introduce his cigar brand across America from his new headquarters. Already, his sales agents and lawyers were handling the legal paperwork and ground work had already been established in Florida.

"I actually own a store in Florida but I wanted a base of operations here because I want to buy property in state. I'm interested in owning farmland." God, his voice was so casual and natural and sounded so good, Matt thought. Matt was mesmerized. He sounded so right about everything. He could listen to that voice all night, he thought. This guy seemed like he really knew was he was doing...

"Now, I brought with me some samples of our products. I want you both to try this blend. I'm very proud of it. It's called the "Abuelo Fuerte: Sudor de Caballero".

"Sounds fancy!" Doug chimed, handling the proffered cigar in his hand with gusto. Matt was less enthusiastic and lacked the confidence of the other two men. Doug clipped the tip with the cigar cutter that had appeared on the table and sucked for dear life on his stick, puffing almost right away. Doug released the smoke from his mouth with a near moan.

"It's been over six months since I had a cigar. But damn, that is smooth." Doug's eyes rolled back in his head.

"We know what we're doing. I know my business. I made some of the best cigars in the world. Matt, I want you to follow our lead. Just don't breathe the smoke in. Release it by puffing. Watch me and Doug and how we do it." Matt was mesmerized. He felt himself fascinated by the smoke. He inhaled it has it came out of the men's mouths.

"Smells...soooo good. Wow. Is this why rich guys smoke cigars?"

"Oh, you'll find out." Suddenly, Matt was learning to clip the tip and hold the cigar in his mouth. It felt so right. Nothing had ever felt more right than this moment. Smoke erupted from his mouth. He was...smoking! He had been shaking with nervousness. All the times his parents had told him to never go near tobacco, his friends who looked down on smoking all faded away. He wanted this, he realized. He had always wanted this. He had always wanted to be a cigar man, to smoke cigars with other men. It had been buried deep within him. The secret desire to look cool and feel smoke billowing from his mouth.

In and out. I'm smoking! Me! I'm really smoking! I'm smoking a cigar! He had never felt happier. The warmth spread throughout his body. God, this really DID feel amazing! Cigars made you feel great! No wonder so many real men smoked cigars. Real men smoked cigars. Mr. Cachimbo was telling him this repeatedly and it made sense. Everything Manuel said made sense. He was so smart.

"Let's take a photo of you guys. This is Matt's first cigar but not his last, am I right Matt?"

"Yeah," Matt said, barely able to control his voice. He was so happy he could cry. He was a cigar man now.

Mr. Cachimbo bought them many drinks and time seemed to slip. Not slip away. They could remember him saying things to them. It was all locked inside their minds. They had to remember because it was so important. It was important for everything to go as he had planned.

The next day at work, Doug and Matt had never felt better. Their attitude had shifted. They felt really really good.

"Those were some amazing cigars last night."

"I know. I keep thinking about them," Matt said. "It felt so right. I think I'm going to be a cigar smoker."

"Yeah? Fuck yeah, man!" Doug was so happy for Matt. Being a cigar smoking man was a dream come true, really. It made him feel so powerful being with Mr. Cachimbo the night before. He barely remembered going home at all. Did they spend all night with Manuel? When had he gone to sleep? Oh well. It didn't matter.

They got called into Mr. Scott's office. Things had changed in that it looked a lot nicer than it had before. Things weren't so drab and gray now. It looked like someone had redecorated. It felt like a welcoming place for respectable men.

"I have a few gifts for you two. Cigars from Mr. Cachimbo. We have a box for each of you and you can share of course. We have a box of Imperial Blend for you, Doug. Matt, for you we have some Regal cigars. Both of them of course mean kings. Mr. Cachimbo wanted me to relay how happy he was with your ideas for distribution last night.

"Oh yeah," Doug agreed. "We had a very beneficial discussion last night." We did? A voice deep inside him asked. I didn't even have time to form any kind of distribution plan. But I must have. I think I said some really smart stuff last night when time started slipping. It was a blur. Mr. Cachimbo could be the best thing that had ever happened to him. No. He looked at the box of Imperials. He was definitely the best thing that had ever happened to him. Doug was filled with confidence like he'd never been before.

Matt was grinning. He felt so free. This was the best he ever felt.

"You two have letters addressed to you. Open them at your cubicles. You will receive instructions for your duties today inside. You're dismissed."

"Thank you, Mr. Scott!" they both gushed. They couldn't contain their smiles as they headed back to their desks. Wow! Free cigars! Matt was giddy. He had never even wanted to smoke cigars before yesterday. No. Wait. That wasn't true. He wanted to as a boy. He idolized Arnold and Stallone. He loved the smell of cigars. That time he was on the beach and there was a man smoking a cigar. And the time in the park when he passed a man smoking. The smell had been intoxicating. He remembered every single instance where he had come across a man smoking cigars in public. He had been mesmerized every time. He had fantasized about smoking cigars from an early age. He had been guilted in his teens and throughout college by friends who really weren't very good friends. They couldn't have been good friends if they persuaded him not to smoke cigars.

Matt and Doug both set their cigar boxes (They looked so expensive!) on their respective desks and tore into the envelopes left for them. Inside was a memo that stated:

"Dear Matt/Doug,

Congratulations! Welcome to the Abuelo Fuerte family! I will be sending you assignments via email. There is a survey I want you to fill out. That is your first task. You will answer as honestly as you can.

I am sending you a pdf file for the spread of my company's influence. Your ideas have already been included in the document. I am most pleased by your ability to articulate exactly what your experience growing up in America was like in regards to the attitudes regarding cigars. We are going to be reshaping young college aged men who are ready for the cigar experience. Colleges will be a big part of our game plan. Thank you for your ideas regarding how to reach out to fraternities and organizations off campus that can draw in young men who are unsure about their life goals. We plan to pair our own company's goals with issues of male empowerment and the search for prestige and status. We are excited for the opportunity to welcome you on this project. Enjoy the cigars included today. Please take the time to enjoy one of each of these cigars and submit a review for each. Your manager is aware you will need time to go outside and smoke. This is perfectly fine as you will be on the clock. We will be looking at your writing skills to best determine how much cigar education you will require over the course of your time with Abuelo Fuerte.

Your reviews will be due by the end of your work shift. Feel free to look up cigar reviews and study them as well as the list of cigar vocabulary terms to memorize you will find in your email.

I look forward to speaking with you again.

Sr. Manuel Cachimbo, CEO of Abeulo Fuerte Cigars."

"Dude. How many days have we been smoking at work and getting paid for it?" Doug asked, suddenly.

"I don't know. This is the best job I ever had!" Matt gushed. His sudden newfound energy was inexhaustible. He had been plowing through his assignments. He had been so diligent on advertising, networking, pitch meetings, and he had been killing it with every assignment Mr. Cachimbo had sent them. His review writing skills for cigars was phenomenal now.

"Dude, I know. It feels like I can't remember what it's like to NOT have a cigar every day!"

"Fuck that! Cigars are life, brother! Cigars make me so happy. I can't believe I ever lived my life without them!"

They walked around the various nondescript buildings. A woman walked up and complained to them about the smell. They ignored her and kept walking, smiling to each other. When they encountered men in the parking lot, they struck up conversations with them about their work environment and offered to sell them some cigars at a very low price. Each and every single time, the man in question would stare blankly and then agree he'd like that. They would get business cards and information. It was almost too easy. Men loved to talk to them now. They were working for a cigar company. It was basically the coolest job in the world.

One strange thing was how little Doug and Matt were thinking about girls. They had both spend their whole lives trying to date the hottest women possible. They didn't have girlfriends at the moment but they had been so busy working, smoking cigars and time was just slipping. They couldn't describe it any other way.

Matt thought about high school and all the girls he had to date. Had to? Like it was a chore? All their perfume and dressed. I mean, it was nice for some guys. They were pretty. Nothing wrong with pretty women. They made him good meals sometimes and that was nice. But...it just was so...lacking. Sex was okay but wouldn't it be better with cigars? He kept thinking about it. Imagine getting a blow job while smoking a cigar!

"Are you two working out? Looks like you're gaining a few pounds of muscle there," Mr. Scott told them one day when they came in to talk cigars.

They received their weekly boxes of cigars with excitement. Each week was a different box. They smoked contentedly outside the building and hat home and between assignments, Matt and Doug both found themselves looking up exercise regimens. Doug bought some bodybuilding magazines. It was strange how he had never thought to actually really make a push to gain muscle before. What was he thinking? He was a man. A man should be muscular and pungent. A man should smell like a man, he thought proudly. It made him hard. Being a man with muscle getting attention in public. Imagine walking down the street smoking a cigar and every woman was looking at your muscles. Or men. It was good for men to look at you, too. Jealous of my muscles. Yeah. He drooled and got hard.

Matt and Doug talked about going to the gym but there was something they had to do first, they knew. They had to try...the blend. They had been waiting for it. The first cigar they tried with Mr. Cachimbo had been the best, they both knew. They had been smoking Cohibas and Macanudos, Padrons and Montecristos. Several a day. As natural as drinking water. Funny how Matt hadn't gotten sick at all like Doug said he might. No, if anything...cigars helped him feel much better all the time! But nothing compared with Mr. Cachimbo's special blend and they had been waiting for it. Finally, the day came when they received the boxes.

When Mr. Scott brought them in, they celebrated with some drinks. Mr. Scott was also helping himself to cigars given to him by Mr. Cachimbo. He was doing real well these days, he told them. Even thinking about taking a trip down to Columbia, he said.

Abuelo Fuerte: Sudor de Caballero

Even the words sang in their heads as they lit them, inhaling their incredible odor. The smoke filled Matt's nose and lungs. He had begun experimenting with inhaling the cigar smoke fully. It was such a rush! He felt like even more of a man knowing that many cigar smokers didn't inhale. Probably because he wasn't a pussy, he thought. He was a real man and now it was time for the world to see him walking down the street smoking cigars, showing off his big muscles to the world. He had to get big muscles, he thought.

Mr. Cachimbo and Matt walked down the street that night smoking the special blend together. Matt was dizzy with joy. He told Mr. Cachimbo over and over again he'd never been happier. Mr. Cachimbo smiled knowingly. He would chomp the cigar in his mouth or take it out and slowly exhale clouds of delicious woodsy spicy aroma: pepper and earth and cacao and the scent of his Montblanc cologne overpowered Matt's senses, sending him into overload. The taste of his tongue burned as Mr. Cachimbo slipped his own tongue into his mouth. To feel another man's tongue who had been smoking cigars! To taste his mouth! The smells of his sweat and his perfect voice whispering in his ear! The taste of days old stubble prickling Matt's tongue has he licked his perfect handsome cheeks. The stubble, all the grain sized hairs that prickled his tongue combined with the richest tobacco on the planet. Soon he was deeply kissing the taller man, who gripped him in an alleyway. They held their burning cigars in the dark shadows, kissing and smoking alternately, blowing smoke in each other's faces.

Matt's face became one of longing. He'd wanted this his whole life. And now he finally had it.

The Abuelo Fuerte was beyond good. It filled him with happiness and relief. Matt found himself with Doug at the Rusty Nail.

"You're my best friend, man. I'm so happy we're both smoking the same cigars, brother!" Matt gushed. What a time to be alive! It felt so freeing! "I've never felt so free!"

"Man, this is the life. Cigars and booze and uh...there's only one thing that would make this better."

"Oh fuck yeah. Fuck yeah." Matt moaned.

"Fuck yeah," Doug said back to him. "Fuck yes. I love you so fucking much."

"We're probably attracting attention."

"Let's get the fuck out of here. Now."

Time seemed like it was slipping.

"Just a little bit more. I don't care if people stare. Let them." Matt kissed the man he loved deeply. "We're fucking hot, dude."

"Why don't I take a photo of you two?"

The boys turned to their benefactor, the man who had introduced them to a whole new world of pleasure.

The posed for the camera. Muscular cigar smoking hunks who only barely resembled the two former straight men who had originally met him oh so many months ago.

"Say Churchill!"

"Churchill!"

"So Mr. Cachimbo, when are we gonna take a tour of America, huh?" Doug asked. "Go to all those college campuses full of hot studs just waiting to become cigar men, huh?"

"All in good time, men. All in good time."

"I'm more interested in visiting the factory down south of the border!"

"Again, one day you will. Soon. You boys have been doing better work for me than you know." The two hunks smiled at each other.

Can't wait to fit my big dick inside him, Matt thought. My man. He thought back to the days where he was pretending to be happy with women. Disgusting. They didn't like cigars or whiskey. Sex was a million times better with cigars and booze at the same time. Not to mention he was a lot bigger now. He had discovered the gym. How long had it been? It felt like he'd always been a muscular hunk.

Doug was never popular with the ladies. They had gravitated to Matt in college but he had been so shy and apologetic and fell over himself. It was a turn off. Now that they were both real men, it was different, though. Doug thought with disgust over the women he'd been with. Boobs? What was he even supposed to do with a woman's breasts? He needed firm pecs. Strong pecs. Big fuckin' strong pecs like Matt had! Fuck yeah! Big fucking muscles and big fuckin' cigars! That's what life was all about!

"I'm very happy with your progress, boys. Pretty soon, you'll be helping my business spread across the country. We're going to send you to a university two weeks from now."

The two smiled. This was going to be what they had waited for so long. Imagine all those hot jock boys strutting their stuff. Imagine all the would be jocks just waiting to be unleashed. They just needed someone to free them from their lives like Mr. Cachimbo had with theirs. Before daily cigars and becoming packed with muscles, what had their lives been? Almost nothing compared to what their lives were now. Now things were much, much better.

"So are we gonna show these boys how to be men, huh boss?" Matt asked, his voice now dripping with masculine energy, grace and confidence.

"Oh, yes. Yes, Matt. You're going to be changing lives everywhere you go," Mr. Cachimbo said, smiling. And then he lit up his own stogie. "Now," he puffed a giant cloud of heaven their way, "Let's go home and fuck."

"Yes, sir, boss!" they both chorused, smirking as they left for a nice of utter pleasure beyond anything they had ever known when they had been straight.

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Shell Change

Hermit crabs are well-known worldwide for their habit of using seashells as "mobile homes", which they gradually replace as the previous one becomes too small or uncomfortable. It's a simple and easy process. But with human intervention, it has gradually become more complicated, causing the crabs to end up using other, less conventional things as shelters.

Larry was a small crab who had had quite bad luck finding a new shell. He had only found trash and a few other containers that were too impractical for him to use. However, being without a protective shell was like being out in the open, begging Mother Nature to do her work. He couldn't continue taking such risks.

He had surfaced to try to improve his search on the surface. Maybe he would have better options than the seabed. He searched everywhere without much success until he saw something lying on the sand. It was... gigantic, about twelve times his size. He could see the folds of muscle, the deep crimson of what appeared to be a... loincloth? He had no idea what he was looking at.

He wasn't unfamiliar with humans, but he was certainly used to seeing them more "active" rather than lying completely motionless. Larry tried to move beside it to gently push it away, but at that moment, he felt as if his paws were sinking into its skin like wet sand. He tried to back away, testing the surface with curiosity.

He had no idea if human skin had that characteristic, but a sound similar to a squawk from the sky alerted him that a seagull was circling the area, dangerously close. The little hermit crab panicked. What would he do? He was completely exposed. If he went back to the sea, who knew what dangers awaited him there? Venturing further inland wasn't an option either, and staying there was even less so. So what was the best option?

Larry stepped on the skin again, feeling the soft, squishy surface once more. Another croak alerted him. With little choice but to push forward, slowly entering the man's back. The man let out an uncomfortable grunt. The crustacean continued pushing until it disappeared completely inside his spine.

At first, the man's body remained completely still until it began to move abnormally again. His back twisted to the right, his legs began to move uncontrollably as if he were kicking the air, his arms followed suit, and his eyes fluttered open with vague movements that briefly turned them blank. He continued to grunt and gasp incomprehensibly, his hands thrashing against the sand as he felt something else invading him from within, climbing up his spine to the top of his head.

The stranger continued to thrash about on the ground, shaking his head, trying to maintain control of his body with his hands, but without much success.

— MWWWHHHAAAWWW – he continued to grunt, writhing, his breathing ragged, his pulse even more so. He tried to resist with all his might until it was impossible. He only let out a defeated gasp, collapsing onto the sand, exhausted.

He remained like that for a while, his chest exposed, until he opened his eyes, somewhat confused. The light bothered him as if the sun were shining directly on him; his head was killing him. He groaned again, covering his face.

— Ugh... Shit – He whispered, lying there with his eyes closed until he opened them, confused. He got up quickly; why did he feel so heavy? He tried to crawl, but his arms gave way, pulling him back and sending him sprawling face-first onto the sand – Agh! – He lay on the sand for a while longer, his nervous eyes darting around, his hands slowly reaching for his face – What... what the hell is this?

He got up as best he could, struggling to move his legs normally; he seemed clumsy. He moved one foot in front of the other and then back again, the sand tickling the soles of his feet. What had seemed like confusion and annoyance at first quickly transformed into surprise and... something more.

The crab-turned-man brought his hands to his new pectoral muscles, squeezing them. It was a completely new sensation, nothing like his usual rough, hard skin. It was... soft and spongy. He let out a chuckle that ended in a gasp, his eyes rolling back as his finger brushed against his areolas.

— Mfhhh! – escaped his lips, his fingers sliding against them, opening his mouth to tempt his moist tongue. Everything was new to him, so... big and perfect. Was it like a new... shell? A refuge? He'd certainly used some unusual things, but this far surpassed anything he'd ever known.

Those agile hands, with those long fingers, those... biceps and... Ugh! What was that smell? He tentatively raised his armpits to give it a quick sniff. They smelled quite strong, a mixture of sea salt and something more acidic, similar to vinegar. He wrinkled his nose but sniffed again, taking a deep drag. The more he smelled, the more he liked it.

Under his gaze, confused, as he felt his new tool harden against his wet swimsuit, Larry touched it, only to let out a long gasp. His hand wrapped tightly around it, rubbing himself like a pervert.

— Mfhhhh, f-fuck – In his marine life, he'd never known such fucking... vivid pleasure. It felt great. The birds and other predators that could devour him in one bite were nothing compared to his new form! Those enormous feet were fantastic, and those... muscles? Was that what they were called? They were fantastic! He was a little confused as to why his new "rear end" was so damn big and soft, plump like an anemone, haha! Maybe it would help him float better, who knows.

The poor guy was so confused and ecstatic about the wonders of being human that it was the least of his worries. With that enormous, smelly body, which was a damn gift to him, he could happily adapt to his new form. He was loving being human. Maybe it would be a problem getting used to the... Customs and not wanting to go swimming in the sea, but he could adapt.

And man, did he want to start learning more about the wonders of being human; those gigantic feet were piquing his curiosity so much... Larry moved along the sand, hopping gently with his new gift. How... did it even get to the shore in the first place?

It turned out the original owner was named Gerry, a tourist who had come to the beach area to experience a "bodysuit" party, one of the newest offerings from CORPUS.Inc. Entry was by invitation only. There, they assigned "roles" – some would wear the suits, others would be the ones. For better or worse, Gerry had been assigned the last one.

He felt his skin transform from what he was used to into a rubber suit the moment he took a sip of a cocktail with a "special touch". A fat millionaire had chosen him, groping himself all over with other borrowed guys just as sculpted and attractive as himself. He had behaved like a complete pervert (in fact, the word fell short; more like a damn pig), sniffing other people's feet and armpits, touching everyone here and there, and hadn't hesitated for a single second to put on his tight, passion-colored swimsuit.

Until he abandoned it on the beach. Gerry had been instructed that the effect would wear off after midday and that he would return to normal without any complications or side effects. Until Larry found him and... Well, he seemed quite pleased with his gift, which, unfortunately for the original owner, had already passed the time limit for returning to normal. So it was only a matter of time before they both got used to their new roles.

But goddamn! Larry was going to discover all out the new pleasures of humanity. Today was just the bright horizon of his new and fantastic life; this was the best shell change of his life! Yes!

----

Hey everyone!

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

I know this story is somewhat… unusual or outside the parameters of what I'm used to (like ghosts, creatures and monsters, possessions or more conventional exchanges, etc.) But I really enjoyed writing this plot and now I'd like to ask you, did you like this approach?

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?

I adjusted my glasses and leaned back in my office chair, the glow of my monitor lighting up my face. It was our twelfth session. Sohil’s video feed filled most of the screen. He was shirtless again, sitting in his gaming chair in is room, one thick arm draped lazily over the backrest. His dark chest hair was still slightly damp, like he’d just come back from the gym.

Sohil Kapoor. Thirty-two. Bisexual. Sex addict.

At least that’s what he called himself.

“Evening, Dr. Reddin,” he said with that familiar half-smirk. His voice had that deep, easy confidence that always carried a hint of mischief.

“Hello, Sohil,” I replied calmly, keeping my tone professional. “How have things been since our last session?”

He let out a tired laugh and ran a hand through his messy black hair. “Same old shit. Made it nine days this time with this guy I really liked… then I fucked his best friend in the parking lot after drinks.” He shook his head. “I’m starting to think there’s something actually broken in me. Like physically. Other people can control themselves. I can’t. Its like my dick has its own fucking brain.”

I nodded, listening carefully. I’d heard variations of this from him for months now. His friends had pushed him into therapy after yet another destroyed relationship. He was charming, successful, and objectively very attractive — which only made the pattern more destructive.

“We’ve discussed open relationships,” I said. “You mentioned your last attempt didn’t go well.”

“Yeah, because even with permission I still broke every rule. Especially the condom one. I need to feel it raw. The second there’s latex I lose half the sensation and it just… doesn’t do it for me.” He sighed heavily.

I paused, tapping my pen against my notepad. We had made some progress, but it was slow. Too slow. I knew it was time to suggest something more radical.

“Sohil,” I said carefully, “I’d like to propose an unconventional treatment option. One I only use in really rare cases.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to the camera. “What is it?”

I met his eyes through the screen.

“Body swapping. A temporary therapeutic exchange. I would enter your body, and you would enter mine. It would allow me to experience your impulses and urges directly. To understand the intensity of what you’re dealing with from the inside. That level of insight could help me develop far more effective strategies for managing your compulsions.”

Sohil stared at me for a long moment, his mouth slightly open.

“You’re… serious?”

“Very,” I said. “It’s not without risks, and it’s not something I suggest lightly. But after six months, I believe this may be what we need to make real progress.”

I watched his face carefully. There was surprise, hesitation… and something else.

He swallowed visibly.

“Ok… so when can we do it?”

---

The following week, we logged onto our scheduled Zoom session. Sohil appeared on my screen looking unusually tense, sitting in the same spot on his couch.

“How are you feeling about the swap? Are you ready?” I asked, keeping my voice steady and clinical.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly? Nervous as hell. But also… kind of excited? I’ve been like this my whole adult life. If you can actually feel what it’s like in here,” he gestured to his own body, “maybe you’ll finally get it. Maybe you can help me fix it.”

We spent most of the session discussing boundaries, consent, and the temporary nature of the procedure. Toward the end, I walked him through the final steps.

“Are you ready?” I asked.

Sohil nodded. “Let’s do it.”

We both initiated the swap through the secure therapeutic portal. There was a bright flash across my screen, a dizzying rush, and then everything shifted.

When my vision cleared, I was no longer looking at my monitor from my office chair.

I was looking at it from Sohil’s couch.

A massive wave of heat crashed over me instantly. My — his — cock thickened rapidly in my pants, throbbing with urgent need. The intensity was staggering. My thoughts grew hazy as raw, aggressive horniness flooded my system. I gripped the edge of the couch, trying desperately to maintain professional composure.

On the screen, Sohil — now in my body — let out a long, relieved exhale. He adjusted my glasses and smiled softly.

“Wow… I can actually think,” he said, sounding lighter than I’d ever heard him. “No constant noise in my head. This is… peaceful.”

I forced a professional tone, even as my new cock continued to pulse insistently between my legs. “That’s… excellent, Sohil. So as I said, we’ll remain in these bodies for the next few weeks. This will give me time to fully understand your urges and begin implementing strategies while I’m in your body. We can get your physical routines and habits started on the right track.”

As I spoke, my eyes drifted down to the screen — to the slight cleavage visible in the blouse I had been wearing. God, is that really how he saw me every session? I made a mental note to dress far more modestly once we swapped back.

Sohil cleared his throat. “Dr. Reddin?”

I blinked, snapping back to attention. “Sorry. I lost my train of thought for a moment.” I continued explaining the plan, trying to sound composed, but the throbbing between my legs was becoming unbearable.

Under the table, my hand moved almost on its own. I unbuttoned Sohil’s pants, wrapped my fingers around his thick, hard cock, and started stroking slowly. The pleasure was overwhelming. I kept talking, voice slightly strained, while pumping faster, getting dangerously close to the edge.

“…and we’ll check in regularly to monitor progress,” I finished, barely holding it together.

“Sounds good,” Sohil said, nodding in my body.

I ended the call as quickly as possible.

The second the screen went black, I let out a shaky breath. Not even thirty seconds later, I came hard. Thick ropes of cum shot across the underside of the table as Sohil’s cock pulsed violently in my hand. My vision whited out for a moment from the intensity.

I sat there panting, staring at the mess I’d made.

Damn… this guy’s body was horny.

Sohil hadn’t been exaggerating at all.

---

Over the next couple of days, I tried to resist.

I really did.

But Sohil’s body had other plans.

The first morning I put on one of his tight black t-shirts. The fabric stretched across his broad chest and hugged his biceps perfectly. Just the feeling of the material clinging to my new arms as I moved sent a low throb through my cock. I had to sit down for a minute and breathe through it.

Later that afternoon I went for a walk. A light breeze picked up and rippled his loose tank top against my chest. The soft fabric dragged across my nipples and I instantly hardened in my shorts. I had to stop and pretend to tie my shoe just so I could adjust myself discreetly.

At the grocery store, a young woman in a slightly low-cut top reached for something on a high shelf. The way her breasts pressed together as she stretched made my mouth go dry. I stood there frozen for several seconds, staring, before I forced myself to look away. My cock was already half-hard in my sweatpants.

Then there was my neighbor — a tall, muscular guy who walked out shirtless to grab his mail. The sight of his defined chest and abs glistening in the sun made something primal surge through me. I stood at the window watching him longer than I should have, my hand unconsciously pressing against the growing bulge in my pants.

Every single time, no matter how minor the trigger, I ended up painfully hard.

And without fail, the moment I got home I went straight to Sohil’s bedroom. I’d strip down completely naked, climb onto his bed, and wrap my hand around his thick cock. I’d stroke myself furiously, sometimes for less than five minutes, before I came hard — thick loads splattering across my hairy stomach and chest.

Yesterday I made it through the entire day without touching myself until I got home. Today I only lasted until 2 PM before I was back in his room, pants around my ankles, jerking off like a man possessed while staring at myself in the full-length mirror.

This body was insatiable.

I thought going to the gym might help burn off some of the constant energy. But it just made everything worse.

The moment I walked into Sohil’s gym wearing one of his tank tops and shorts, I felt eyes on me. His body drew attention — broad shoulders, thick arms, the way his chest hair peeked out from the neckline. Every time I lifted weights, the pump in my biceps and pecs made my cock twitch. The burn in my muscles somehow translated straight into arousal.

By the third set of bench presses I was fully hard. I had to practically sprint to the locker room stalls. I locked myself in one, dropped my shorts, and jerked off furiously, biting my lip to stay quiet. I came in under two minutes, shooting against the stall door. Even after that, I was still half-hard.

Even then I couldn’t control myself. I started approaching people — a pretty woman doing squats in tight leggings, a muscular guy checking himself out in the mirror. I was way too forward. Told the woman she had an incredible ass and asked if she wanted to grab a smoothie after her workout. Told the guy his arms looked strong and offered to spot him… then immediately suggested we spot each other somewhere more private. Both of them gave me polite but very clear rejections.

I stood there in the middle of the gym, Sohil’s face flushed with embarrassment and lingering arousal, realizing how desperate I must have looked. This body didn’t just want sex — it craved it constantly, and it had no filter.

---

By day six, I was losing the battle.

After another humiliating rejection at the gym and two more desperate jerk-off sessions at home, I gave in and downloaded Grindr on Sohil’s phone.

The app opened and immediately flooded the screen with nearby profiles. Shirtless torsos, hard cocks, hungry stares. Within minutes the messages started pouring in.

“Damn dude you’re hot as fuck.”

“Top or bottom?”

“Hosting right now if you wanna come through.”

I told myself I was just researching. Just trying to understand the scale of his compulsions. But my cock was already rock hard as I scrolled through the endless stream of willing men.

There were so many. Hot guys. Fit guys. Hung guys. Some wanted to fuck me. Most wanted me to fuck them.

I started chatting with one guy — mid-20s, muscular, only two blocks away. Before I could talk myself out of it, I sent him a face pic and told him I could be there in ten minutes.

The moment I stepped into his apartment, any last shred of professional restraint vanished. He barely had the door closed before I had him pinned against the wall, kissing him hard. Within minutes I had him bent over his couch, fucking him raw and deep while he moaned loudly.

It felt incredible.

The power, the heat, the raw physical pleasure of pounding into someone with Sohil’s thick cock — it was overwhelming. I came hard inside him, groaning as I filled him up. He asked if I wanted to go again. I did.

I ended up staying for almost two hours.

When I finally left, legs shaky, I felt a strange mix of shame and satisfaction. On the walk home my cock was already stirring again at the memory.

That night I opened Grindr again.

---

After a few days of nonstop Grindr hookups — sometimes two or three different guys in a single day — the novelty started to wear off. The sex was good, intense even, but something was missing.

I needed pussy.

Tinder proved much slower and more frustrating. The matches came in, but the back-and-forth flirting took time I didn’t want to waste. My patience was nonexistent in this body.

I knew it was a terrible idea. Unethical. A complete violation of every professional boundary. But the urge was louder than reason.

I opened the camera on Sohil’s phone and took a series of thirst traps — shirtless in the mirror, flexing his biceps, one with his hand pulling down the waistband of his sweatpants just enough to show the thick base of his cock. I sent them to my own number.

The message I typed made my stomach twist even as I hit send:

“I know you want to get fucked by yourself. I just know you want to feel your old cock deep in that pussy.”

I stared at the sent messages, heart racing.

Three dots appeared, then stopped. Then appeared again.

Before he could reply, the images and words hit me like gasoline on a fire. I was so turned on I couldn’t wait. I shoved my pants down, wrapped my hand around Sohil’s throbbing cock, and jerked off furiously on the couch to the fantasy of fucking my own body. I came hard within minutes, groaning loudly as thick ropes of cum splattered across my hairy chest.

The second the orgasm faded, cold reality crashed down on me.

What the hell did I just do?

I quickly sent a string of apologetic messages:

“I’m so sorry. That was completely inappropriate.” “I lost control. That was unprofessional and wrong.” “Please forgive me.”

Sohil (in my body) replied a few minutes later:

“No worries doc lol. I understand exactly what that feeling is like. Trust me.”

I let out a shaky breath, still half-hard despite just cumming.

“I’m going to figure this out,” I typed back, trying to sound more in control than I felt. “I’m going to find a real way to help you manage these urges. I promise.”

I set the phone down and looked at myself in the mirror — Sohil’s muscular, hairy body staring back at me, cum still drying on my abs.

---

I tried to resist.

I really, really tried.

I deleted Grindr twice. I went to the gym and forced myself to focus only on lifting. I tried meditation apps, cold showers, even jerking off six times in one day just to take the edge off. Nothing worked. The horniness always came back stronger, like a constant buzzing under my skin that refused to be ignored.

One night, I put on one of Sohil’s tight black shirts and a pair of fitted jeans and went to a gay bar downtown. The place was packed and loud. Within twenty minutes I locked eyes with a cute, twinky guy in his mid-twenties with messy light brown hair, smooth skin, and a hungry look in his eyes. He was exactly my type.

We barely spoke.

I walked straight up to him, grabbed him by the waist, and pulled him in for a rough kiss. He melted against me immediately. No names. No small talk. I took his hand and led him straight to the bathroom.

The moment the stall door locked, I spun him around, yanked his pants down, and shoved him forward against the wall. I pulled my own cock out, barely taking time to spit on it before I pushed inside him.

“Fuck…” he moaned loudly as I sank in deep.

I started thrusting hard, one hand gripping his hip, the other braced against the stall wall. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed in the small space.

“Sohil… fuck, Sohil,” he gasped, moaning my — Sohil’s — name.

A dark thrill shot through me.

“Fuck yeah,” I growled, pounding into him harder.

“Sohil… oh my god—”

Hearing him moan while I was balls-deep inside him made something primal take over. I fucked him with long, powerful strokes, gripping his waist tight as I drove into him again and again.

I didn’t last long. The way his tight hole clenched around my thick cock — it was too much. I buried myself deep and came hard, groaning as I filled him up.

I was still catching my breath, cock softening inside him, when reality started to crash back in.

The guy I had just raw-fucked in a public bathroom stall was Drew — one of my other therapy clients. Mid-twenties, gender-questioning, sweet but anxious. I had been seeing him for months. I had been too horny to even recognize him until now.

Then it hit me.

He had been moaning “Sohil” the entire time.

I never told him my — Sohil’s — name.

I pulled out slowly, heart pounding for a completely different reason now.

“Do we… know each other?” I asked, voice rough.

The guy — Drew — turned around with a lazy, satisfied grin that looked completely out of place on his face. He looked me up and down, eyes lingering on Sohil’s cock.

“I think I would recognize my own former body,” he said casually. “And damn… its dick feels good. I get why people put up with me even though I was such a cheater.”

I froze.

“Wait… Sohil?”

He smirked. “Hey, Doc.”

I stared at him — at my client’s body — in complete disbelief.

“What the hell are you doing in Drew’s body?”

Sohil (in Drew’s smaller, twinky frame) shrugged, still breathing hard from getting fucked.

“Drew’s been seeing you too, right? He’s been talking about wanting to transition for a while. Really wanted a woman’s body to start figuring shit out. So I offered him a swap. He gets your body — soft, feminine. I get his cute little gay body with way less constant horniness. Win-win.”

He reached down and gave Sohil’s cock — my current cock — a playful squeeze, still slick from being inside him.

“I’ve been having a great time, honestly. This body is so much easier to manage. I can actually think straight. I could get used to this. Could maybe even see myself getting into a relationship. Meanwhile, you’ve been living my old life…” He raised an eyebrow. “How’s that been going for you, Doc?”

I stood there, pants still open, cum slowly leaking down Drew’s thigh, trying to process everything.

Sohil in Drew’s body just smiled sweetly.

“By the way… you fuck really good in my body.”

My cock twitched and started hardening again almost immediately, still slick from being inside him. I was furious — at Sohil, at myself, at this entire situation — but the anger only seemed to make the arousal worse. The rational part of my brain was screaming that I needed to stop, to think clearly, to regain control.

But Sohil — or Drew, or whoever the hell he was right now — was right here. Convenient. Already bent over, his hole glistening with my cum, still slightly open and twitching.

I grabbed his hips and pushed back inside him in one smooth thrust.

“Fuck, Doc,” he moaned in Drew’s lighter voice, pushing back against me. “Round two already?”

I didn’t answer. I just started fucking him again, harder this time, my hips slapping against his ass. The wet, filthy sound of my cock sliding through my own load filled the stall. Every thrust felt better than the last. My mind was fogging over again, thoughts becoming slippery and unfocused.

We could switch it all back… if only…

I tried to hold onto the thought, but it kept sliding away.

If only… what was I trying to do again?

The question dissolved as pleasure took over. I gripped his waist tighter and pounded into him, grunting with each deep stroke. Sohil in Drew’s body moaned loudly, clearly loving every second.

“God, you really can’t control it, can you?” he gasped between thrusts, sounding amused. “Feels good though, doesn’t it?”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to pull out and walk away. But instead I fucked him even harder, chasing that building pressure again, my balls tightening as I got closer to another orgasm.

My name is will and I’m a pretty free spirit guy who likes to have fun and make new friends, but there’s one particular guy who catches my attention the most at gym.

There was this guy named Tacitus who was tall, good looking and had a brilliant athlete physique, he tended to the gym daily lifting weights and high intensity cardio. He was a brilliant sight to behold and he stood out among people like gods among men, almost unreal. I found him pretty attractive so I attempted to find an opportunity to connect with him.

Every attempt to connect to him was like trying to find a needle in the hay stack, if you pick it up, you were risk also getting punctured by it. I tried connecting with him the way that most people do, such as waving at him when we locked eyes, when we went to shower I gave him a dab and said good workout and when he lifted weights I would ask him if he needed a spot thinking he might be more open if he believed I showed a bit of friendly concern for him.

Despite little results he seemed to be the strong silent type who was distant.

Eventually I came to the conclusion that he didn’t really think I was worth his time and this brought me a sense of animosity and envy.

So one day, I decided if I can’t connect with him, I’ll be him instead and possibly get to see the world in his perspective while I have fun with his body.

Now I have a special ability that allows me to shift my body into a spirit like form which allows me to enter the person to possess them, usually I use this ability for fun shenanigans, but for once I’ll use it as a social experiment, particularly being a hot introvert.

I waited till he finished his routine workouts which usually were in the morning and waiting till he was worn out which is when he would go in the sauna. When Tacitus was so distracted by his EarPods while laying down with eyes close, I saw my opportunity to take his hard working body by becoming a astral form and flew directly into his mouth at the moment he breath in.

For a moment he tried to resist despite being exhausted but I held the upper hand. After completely entering the body, I was in his stomach where I caused the already weakened body to contort causing muscle spasms as I situated causing feeling ecstasy as my possession cause my victims.

Once I locked in, I put my astral form into each limb as my cock went into his like a reverse fuck, which caused a erection in this body which may have been my excitement from being inside of him and position my head into his which caused him to black out and for me to take the wheel.

As soon as I came to, I immediately started feeling these muscles and removed his towel he had on to see his cock in full girth and his balls like the size of grapefruits. I then smelled his hairy pits which were sweaty and like the rest of his body was enough to set me on edge.

I then left the sauna to go and shower which allowed me to feel the sensation of warm water hit this sexy body as it with through the hair and ran down its skin.

Afterwards, I got his towel and dried off from head to toe and found his gym bag which I used to get his clean clothes to put on and his sweaty clothes to put in there place. When done, I went to the mirror to see this body from its own perspective which is when I felt a sudden shift in his thinking.

When I looked in the mirror, i started hearing his thoughts and could literally feel his mood shift in his body. I began to think to myself,

“How could someone with such a perfect body and appearance have such negative feelings.”

“The Day as Tacitus”

Afterwards, I left the gym and went about his daily routine which wasn’t hard to remember since I have access to his memories. When work was completed, I went to his home and showered before i went to bed. When I layed down, I found it hard to sleep, originally it was make mind playing today’s events over like a tap recorder and than a need for sexual release which is when I received a hard on. I attempted to go to sleep again, but the need for release kept me wide awake.

“Oh, well this is what the body wanted, I said as I proceeded to get his lotion set by him for this purpose and stroked Tac massive cock until load after load of cum came out like a faucet that wouldn’t stop dripping until it burst.

Afterwards I thought to myself,

“Damn, Tacitus body had a higher sex drive than most people and here I thought he was good at suppressing his sex drive. “Guess you only know a guy unless your deep inside of him.”

It was knee numbing when I orgasm in his body, I felt like I reach the next step of human evolution.

Damn he even organizes not only his sexy body but his sexual needs, that’s hot.

The morning came, Following his routine, I went to the gym, of course it wasn’t hard since his workout was muscle memory.

As I trained, I noticed how his mind also was very good at cognitive tunneling, so when he workout, that’s literally all he was lock into.

“I guess this is why he is not too socialable while training, his mind is lock in”, I’m lucky not to be a target in his shooting site”, I said.

After intense training, I went to the sauna to relax this body while laying down and when done I washed up and got dressed.

The night out as Tacitus

Today there wasn’t anything planned, so I decided to do what I wanted in his body which was to go out.

Tacitus is usually such an organized guy, but tonight he is gonna get down and chaotic with me to go to a gay bar, to see what I could pull off as him, seeing that a face as attractive as Tac should be shared with the world instead of behind door to a lonely mirror.

So I freshened up and changed to go to the bar to have a little fun.

When I arrived to the bar, I was amazed with all the attention I received and even heard other guys present talk about Tac about my looks. I proceeded to go to the bar table and asked for a drink and to my surprise, it was on the house. When I looked, I saw this hot guy who was sitting across from me who later came to sit next to me.

He said,

“So having a good time tonight”

Before I could speak, I begin to hear Tacitus thoughts speak, which almost hindered my actions saying things about how the guy next to me is attractive but filled with quiet anxiety, it almost couldn’t move. On the outside, I appeared composed and controlled but on the inside, it was like my world was on the verge of calamity with every thought that raced in my mind.

“My night is good”, I responded.

“Just one of those nights”

“What about you”

The man responded,

“Oh you, just completed a hard day at work.”

“Ohhh, and what type of work you do”, I said as to remove some of the spotlight off myself.

“Well I do work as one of the lead bosses of a construction company. I aid in planning and executing the construction of roads in most of Texas region, you know how the streets and roads are in need of repairs.”

“What about you, what your type of expertise, handsome” says the man.

“Oh, I’m just a police officer”, I said, “My job is basically to make sure people are safe and following the rules, that stuff.”

Oh, so I see why you have all those muscles, you must rarely have any trouble, says the man. Oh, how rude of me, my name is Simon by the way.

“My name is Tacitus, I said.

We had a conversation for well over a hour, as I talked, the mind thoughts of Tacitus relaxed if not became more vulnerable to Simon. Before I knew it, I was asking him to come over to Tacitus’s house to go further.

Once we got there, we couldn’t help but unleash the urge and passion that has build up all night. From drinking and talking came vulnerability and before I knew it, we were half dressed and making out.

Throughout the sex intimacy, I begin to take the lead in the sex encounter which I usually don’t do first when I possess other guys, I play the bottom role, the this introvert isn’t what he appears to be, nonetheless it never hurts to let your inner introvert out sometimes, ahaha.

Suddenly I began to lift Simon up and we continued to make out on our way to Tacitus’s room to start round 2.

Carrying him to the bed, I begin helping him take off his clothes both of us driving by the urge to fulfill our lust desperately. When all the clothes were removed, both of us were naked, able to fill each more than words can describe. I then turn him on his abdomen, pressing his ass cheeks with my hands to separate them as I feeling more daring and also guided Tacitus lust and passion begin eating this stud ass. Simon not being able to contain himself began to moan with pleasure.

After a while I stop and begin to put my hard cock into Simon’s glory hole and pressed my hands against his to the bed, bringing my head closer to his as if to desperately become one being.

I begin butt fucking the hell out of Simon as I thrusted in and out, increasing the pace until I reached the right rhythm. As I did this he proceeded to moan and cry as the pleasure was so much for him. Minutes passed and we both were reaching climax and couldn’t contain it which was when both of our muscle started tensing and our cocks ready the release as we proceeding bursting our loads at the same time as Simon became a cream filling for mine and his went all over the mattress, shooting out like a wild faucet going on and off as the edge diminished.

As the climax calm and clarity slowly returned, I thought to myself.

“I have to say I may have underestimated this shy boy, he’s more capable then he appears on the outside.

The air in my old room smells of old farts and defeat. I settle into bed, and the old mattress creaks under a weight I've never borne before. I feel the friction of my new, voluminous belly against my thighs, the constant tension in a back that has lost all muscle definition, the perpetual chill on a scalp that is now just smooth, hairless skin. Every morning I wake up expecting it to be a nightmare, and every morning reality hits me in the form of this fifty-four-year-old, bald, overweight body.

Moving back to my parents' house was the most humiliating thing. This accountant's body, the Robert "Bob" Jenkins body, couldn't afford the rent on my loft. My protein and gym sponsorships... our sponsorships... evaporated as soon as people saw what I had become.

But the worst wasn't the material. It was Jenna's look, filled with confusion and then pure revulsion when I tried to explain that it was me, Kyle, trapped inside this... shell of grease and gray hair. "Kyle, this isn't healthy. You should get help," she said before blocking me everywhere. My friends, my gym brothers, just make excuses now. "Uh, dude, we're just really busy," they say on the phone, and I can hear the discomfort in their voices as they speak in the deep, breathy voice of an older stranger. Even my own parents tiptoe around me. Mom avoids eye contact, and Dad only talks to me about the weather, unable to connect with the older man who claims to be the son he was so proud of.

With a frustrated growl coming hoarse from this alien throat, I grab my laptop. I need to wallow in my misery. I navigate to my old Instagram profile, @KyleTheTitan.

And there I am. Or rather, there he is. Bob, I guess his new young brain acted quickly and changed my social media passwords. It should have been easy; he had my phone number and my face.

The photo is a stab. My V-shaped torso, my rock-solid biceps, my chiseled abs, all dressed up like a suit by that grinning imposter. He's wearing only tight gym shorts and holding a tub of the protein I helped promote. The headline reads: "New horizons! Grateful for this second chance and for my partners at @FlexFuelNutrition who believe in me #SwapCorpSurvivor #StrongerThanEver."

I feel a fierce nausea burning in my stomach, a stomach that is now soft and round. That body was my temple, my identity. I shaped it with years of sacrifice, pain, and discipline. And now that financial softie, Bob Jenkins, is there, grinning like a fool, taking in all the glory, endorsements, and health insurance showering the "innocent victims of the Incident."

Rage courses through my veins, but it's followed by a much stranger and more treacherous feeling. As I stare at the screen, admiring every muscle cut I've carved, an intense and completely involuntary arousal begins to grow in my groin, swelling against the restrictive fabric of these hideous polyester pants my father lent me.

I look down, with horror and a hint of fascination. An erection, firm and insistent, deforms the fabric. It's this old, rejected body responding to the sight of my own former body, a body everyone desired and now no one denies Bob. The disconnect is so surreal it almost makes me dizzy. I hadn't touched myself in months, my enormous, hairy balls swollen from the withdrawal from accepting this perverse reaction. The confusion is total.

Suddenly, a notification pops up in the corner of the screen. An alert from a local news network.

"Protest outside SwapCorp offices: Victims call for halt to 'cure' research"

My heart pounding in a way this new body finds alarming, I click.

The video plays, showing a crowd in front of SwapCorp's glass building. And there, in the front row, with my powerful chest puffed out and my voice, now strangely modulated with the conviction of a middle-aged man, shouting into a megaphone, is Bob Jenkins.

"Our bodies are not experiments!" shouts the muscular figure that was once me. "This body is mine now! It's a gift. SwapCorp must stop its dangerous quest to reverse the process. We demand to be acknowledged and left alone! My name is Kyle, and this is my body!"

The crowd cheers. Camera flashes illuminate Bob's defined pecs as he struts in front of the camera with a charismatic smile, the gaze of a crowd of men and women never leaving him.

I sat frozen in my teenage bedroom, mesmerized by the live action. Before I knew it, my cock was out of my pants, and my hand was pumping up and down. The smell of my old cock filled my room, and sticky precum lubricated my fingers until my cock exploded, completely staining my laptop screen.

Completely in ecstasy, lying on my bed and completely exhausted, all I could hear was my old voice on the computer.

"Yeah, I think I'm putting this body to better use. I'm sure the real Kyle thinks so."

---

Hey, hello again! I hope you haven't forgotten me. I just wrote my first story since my return and posted it on Ko-fi. Thank you so much for your patience, and I hope you enjoy this old story from my archives. See you sooner than you think!

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Thalassal Thief

— Heh, you look funny.

The guy muttered with a smug smile as he watched a jellyfish-like creature lying on the sand, thrashing about as best it could under his fascinated and somewhat mocking gaze. Tyron could only watch in horror as his old body loomed over him, that mocking smile completely out of character. 

He just wanted to enjoy a good beach vacation; he needed it after finishing university. He wanted to relax before jumping straight into the arena of what would be working life. He hadn't counted on a body-stealing creature from the seabed deciding to surface that very day, where the unsuspecting Tyron was dipping his toes in the sea spray. 

He felt a horrible sting that made his body spasm uncontrollably. His eyes went black, and the next thing he saw was his old body from below. Noticing his thick thighs and the outline they showed in the tight swimsuit he'd bought thinking it would be the best vacation of his youth, he tried to scream, to speak, or at least beg. 

He felt so... strange, having so many tentacles instead of fingers. He also felt weak. He tried to bring his new limbs closer to his leg, or even his old foot, but the thieving creature only let out mocking laughter as it swiftly pushed him away.

— Oof, so slow! – It licked its lips, flexing its biceps and stretching as it clicked its tongue – I'd like to stay with you longer to... keep rubbing your body against you, but I think you should go now.

Before he could react, a wave crashed down, pulling him under. His new, clumsy body struggled to stay afloat, but it sank back to the bottom of the sea. The new Tyron adjusted his new tool, a perverted look on his face, his chest broadening in a commanding manner, as if he wanted to assert his dominance as the main male, he headed back to the hotel.

— Time to have some fun.

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Hey everyone!

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

I hope you're enjoying the stories with vacation or summer themes, enjoy!

Also, remember to join my new Discord server where I post updates on my stories and have a closer connection with you all. You can also give me your ideas and suggestions. And of course, you can chat with other enthusiasts of body swapping, possession, hypnosis, and other topics you love. Everyone is welcome!

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?