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The Taste of Others

🇬🇧 ("Il Gusto dell'Altro" Versione Inglese)

It’s been many years now since the day I was cursed. It was 1968, and I was in a small café when I made a simple mistake: I cut in front of a woman in line to place my order before her. I had no idea she was, in fact, a witch. She cast a curse on me — one so bizarre it seemed like a joke... until it actually came true.

From that day on, every time I eat something, my appearance changes. My face, my body, even my ethnicity transform according to what I consume: if I eat sushi, I take on the appearance of a Japanese person; if I drink tea made with herbs grown in India, I become Indian; a slice of Sacher torte turns me into an elegant Viennese gentleman. My body adapts to the culture and origin of the food.

And that’s not all: the quality of the food affects my physical appearance too. Fresh, wholesome ingredients make me look young and attractive. But if the food is cheap or heavily processed... well, let’s just say I become someone no one wants to look at twice.

You can imagine how inconvenient this is. I can’t eat in public. I have to avoid running or biking with my mouth open, because accidentally swallowing a bug can lead to... unsettling results.

But the most astonishing effect shows up during moments of intimacy. If, during oral sex, my partner reaches orgasm and I ingest even the tiniest bit of his semen — whether on purpose or just by reflex — my body undergoes a complete transformation: I become his exact double. Not just physically, but in voice, movements, even down to the tiniest details like scars, moles, and imperfections.

This morning, I started my day with a piece of fine dark chocolate. A little while ago, I had a few spoonfuls of low-fat yogurt... and you can see the result for yourself.

The bass thumped through the walls of the frat house like a heartbeat. The strobe lights pulsed across the crowded dance floor like broken hearts, casting everything in a hazy red and blue glow.

Jenna pushed through the sea of sweaty bodies, red solo cups sloshing in her hands. Her friends—loud, tipsy, already dancing in the corner—had vanished in the crowd. “I’ll be right back!” she’d called over her shoulder, but the house was chaos. The air smelled like beer, sweat, and cheap cologne.

She found a pocket of space near the middle of the dance floor and started swaying, letting the music pull her in. Her pink shirt clung tighter to her modest chest, her skirt brushing her thighs. She felt exposed but alive for the first time in months. Then a hand landed on her waist.

Big. Warm. Strong.

“Hey, pretty girl,” a low voice rumbled against her ear. “Dance with me?”

Jenna turned, ready to say no, but her eyes locked on his. Tall, broad-shouldered, chest like carved marble, sweat glistening under the party lights. He had that effortless jock swagger—confident, cocky, untouchable. Something in the way he looked at her made her knees weak. She nodded before her brain caught up.

"Woahhh... What are you..."

Then he pulled her close. Their bodies fit like they’d been made for each other. His hand slid down her side, slow and deliberate, fingers tracing the curve of her hip, the dip of her waist, then higher again, brushing the underside of her breast through her shirt. The touch was gentle but electric. Jenna’s breath caught.

“I—uh—I don't do this,” she started, but his thumb brushed her nipple and a soft moan slipped out. Her knees buckled. He caught her easily, one arm locked around her back, the other still roaming.

“Easy,” he murmured, voice dripping with that fake-smooth frat-bro charm. “Just feel the music.”

Jenna tried to shove him away. Her palms hit his rock-hard chest, but her hands stayed there, fingers curling into his skin instead of pushing. The contact burned. It was like her body wanted more. She hated it. She wanted to fight, to scream, to run back to her friends. But every time she tried, his touch softened, his breath ghosted her neck, and the resistance melted like ice in sunlight.

“You’re so tight,” he whispered, lips brushing her ear. “So perfect.”

She shivered. “Who… who are you?”

“The name's Zac,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious fact in the world. “Been wanting to dance with you all night.”

His hand moved lower, cupping her ass, pulling her against the massive bulge in his shorts. Jenna gasped. Her hips jerked forward instinctively. She felt him—thick, hard, throbbing. The sensation made her clit throb in time with the bass. She should have been disgusted. Instead, heat flooded her core.

She shoved again. He didn’t budge. “Stop,” she whispered, but her voice cracked. “This isn’t—”

His other hand slid up her stomach, thumb circling her nipple through the thin fabric. She arched into the touch before she could stop herself. A fresh wave of pleasure crashed through her. Her mind flashed—briefly—to her old life: textbooks, late-night study sessions, the quiet apartment she shared with three other girls. Then it was gone.

Zac chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through her chest. “Relax, babe. You’re doing great.”

His fingers dipped beneath her skirt. Jenna’s breath hitched. He wasn’t rushing—slow, teasing circles over her soaked panties, pressing just enough to make her hips roll against his palm. She could feel herself getting wetter, slicker. The music blurred. All she could focus on was his hand, the way he squeezed her ass, the way his other palm kneaded her breast, pinching her nipple until she whimpered.

“You’re so wet already,” he murmured, voice husky. “That’s my good girl.”

The words hit her like a drug. Good girl. She’d never been called that before. The thought made her pussy clench around nothing. She tried one last shove, palms flat against his abs, but her body betrayed her—she rubbed against his fingers instead, chasing friction. “I—I can’t—”

“You can,” he whispered. “Just let it happen. Feel how good it is.”

The transformation started small. A faint tingle at the base of her spine, like static electricity dancing under her skin. Then her thighs trembled. Jenna looked down and gasped as her waist narrowed, then flared into a wide, powerful V. Her hips widened with a soft pop, bones shifting, muscle knitting in with audible creaks and groans. Her skirt stretched tight over new, muscular thighs. The hem rode up, revealing powerful calves and a thick, veiny cock already straining against her panties.

“Oh my God—is that...” she choked out, voice deepening into a smooth, masculine timbre.

Zac’s hands never stopped. He kept stroking her new ass, squeezing the growing muscle. “You’re almost there, James. Feel it, bro?”

She heard the name and it felt just right.

James.

It had always been James.

The old memories—girlhood crushes, shy study halls, the girl she’d been—were already slipping away like smoke. In their place bloomed new ones: college football, late-night keg stands, the thrill of hooking up with whoever wanted him.

Confident. Cocky. Untouchable.

Jenna—James—felt her chest tingle. Her breasts shrank, nipples tightening into sensitive buds that rubbed against his palm. She moaned at the sensation. “Urghhh... w-what’s happening?”

“You’re becoming perfect,” Zac growled, voice thick with lust. He was still behind her, still fully dressed, still hard as steel. He lifted her shirt, exposing the flat, striated abs she’d always admired in the mirror. Now they were his. Sweat-slicked, veined, rippling with every breath. He traced the ridges, then lower, hooking his fingers into her panties and ripping them aside.

The cool air hit her new cock—thick, veined, already leaking. Zac’s breath caught.

“Fuck. Look at you.”

He stroked the shaft, thumb spreading the precum. Jenna’s hips bucked. The name James felt like it had been carved into her soul. She could feel the new memories flooding in: how to high-five, how to flex for the camera, how to say “hell yeah” after a touchdown. Her brain rewired itself, faster than thought.

Her shoulders broadened. Arms thickened. Shoulders rounded into a square, powerful frame. Her neck thickened, jaw sharpening into a chiseled, masculine line. Short, dark hair sprouted on her head, falling messy and perfect. Her face—once soft and pretty—sculpted into something ruggedly handsome: high cheekbones, strong brow, full lips that could smirk like they owned the world.

The skirt was gone. Replaced by tight white athletic shorts that rode high on thick thighs and cupped the massive bulge at his crotch. Newly-made James stood there, fully transformed, a towering, sweat-glistened jock with ripped pecs, shredded abs, and arms like tree trunks.

Zac grinned, cocky and satisfied. “Damn, baby. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

The old Jenna was still in there somewhere—buried deep under layers of new memories, new desires, new confidence. But she was drowned.

"Brooo, of course I'm gorgeous as fuck. Those jocks and chicks literally beg to fuck me," James replied. He felt no regret, only the rush of power. Zac pulled him close, cock pressing hot and heavy against his thigh.

“It's my pleasure then. Ready for round two, stud?” Zac asked, voice dripping with promise. "I can't resist to try that tasty cock,"

James moaned, the new persona already taking over.

“Hell yeah, brah. Suck me hard will you?” he winked at his bro.

The party swirled around them, but neither of them cared. The transformation was complete. And James had never felt more alive.

Johnny opened the bathroom door and slowly stumbled in, still groggy. He splashed cold water on his face, hoping it would wake him up, but it wasn’t enough. As he stared into his own blue eyes, he heard quiet steps behind him. His boyfriend, Ricky, threw his arms around his chest and gave him a kiss on the neck. “Good morning,” he whispered in his ear. Johnny smiled; nothing felt better than waking up with Ricky every day. The couple got ready, shaved, brushed their hair, until they were ready to make breakfast.

However, as Johnny was about to exit the bathroom, his boyfriend grabbed him by the hand and stopped him. He pulled him back in slowly, giving him a naughty smile: “You know, we have a bit of time, maybe we could…” Ricky started, and was cut off by Johnny: “No! You know I have an important meeting this morning.” Although his voice was forceful, his body language was telling the opposite story; he let himself sink into Ricky’s arms. “It’s been forever since we did it in the shower. And you never have time anyway.” Johnny knew his boyfriend was saying the truth, and he did miss their morning ritual. “All right, but let’s make it quick,” he eventually said, with a naughty smile of his own.

Both guys hurriedly undressed before hopping in the shower together, kissing slowly, but with more and more vigor. It wasn’t long until the steamy heat of the shower got both their dicks up to full length, Johnny thrusting his 5-incher in the direction of Ricky’s girthier, but shorter 4 inches. He got closer to his boyfriend, twitching with anticipation. They looked into each other’s eyes, waiting for the fun to begin.

It wasn’t long until, through the dull noise of the shower, Johnny heard Ricky’s first groans. The beginning was always his favorite part; it felt like his boyfriend was getting ready to give into his animalistic urges. He felt Ricky’s hands grip tightly around his shoulders, fingers thickening, becoming more powerful. Ricky kept groaning; he tilted his head forwards, shuddering, as his back expanded and stretched simultaneously. They were about the same height before, so Johnny could well see his back muscles pulsate as they grew, becoming smooth and detailed. Ricky’s growth kept going into his shoulders and arms, cramps forcing him to let go of Johnny. His chest, bent forwards, kept heaving up and down while his pecs formed and his abs flexed, outlining the beginning of a 6-pack. Johnny, his arms freed, took the opportunity to feel his boyfriend’s new bouncy mounds of muscle and fat.

As his growth continued, Ricky’s groans slowly transitioned into moans, synching with the way his body was moving back and forth. He stumbled slightly, his legs stretching unevenly, while Johnny held him upright; the Hunk sometimes needed a bit of help before his thighs and ass ballooned outwards to support his increased body weight. His feet finally grew as well, stabilizing him while his toes sprawled along the floor. Ricky brought his head up to look at his boyfriend, his eyes full of lust and unbound excitement; he was now a few inches taller than him, standing at 6’1 compared to his 5’10.

Johnny grinned broadly; he shot a glance down at Ricky’s dick, pushing forwards, almost double its original size now. He grabbed it tentatively, stroked it a few times, then brought his hands back to his boyfriend’s chest, ready to feel the rest of his transformation. Ricky pushed out a few guttural moans, getting deeper by the second, as his neck thickened and his face started restructuring, getting more handsome. His usual round and rosy cheeks were now sporting very noticeable dimples, outlined by a sharp jaw. His lips twisted into a cocky smile as he flexed both his arms, the desire to show off taking over his calm self. His biceps grew even bigger, rivaling those of most adept gym goers in a matter of seconds. His pecs also kept growing, his nipples becoming hard, pointy and sensitive. Johnny wrapped his lips around one, licking it, while running a hand over the deepening crevices of his boyfriend’s abs. Ricky, or Rick, at this point, grunted in pleasure, uttering a lustful “oh yeah” before grabbing Johnny’s head with one hand, pushing him in further while his hands grew again, fingers grabbing at his boyfriend’s wet hair.

Johnny felt Rick’s cock poke at his crotch; the Hunk had grown taller yet again, reaching 6’3 and easily towering over him. At this point, both of them were oozing pre-cum, mixing with the warm water of the shower. Hornier than ever, Rick used his powerful hand to bring Johnny’s face into his crotch, inviting him to suck on his throbbing member. His boyfriend obliged, lips wrapping around the thick dick he knew wasn’t even at full size yet. As he got sucked, Rick felt the final dregs of the transformation hit him full force, his thighs and ass getting nice and plump, his face finishing its remodeling by adding a bit of stubble on his chin. Johnny was sucking like a pro; years of experience with a Hunk had nullified any gag reflex he used to have. As he felt his boyfriend’s member reach its final size of 9 and a half inches, he spat it out, standing back up and getting his hand ready to finish jerking his own cock. Rick was faster, however; his two hands grabbed one dick each and pumped expertly, feeling climax coming. The boyfriends leaned into one another, meeting for a lustful kiss as they both came simultaneously, cum washing over their bodies and flowing down to the drain below. Rick smiled, finally spent, holding Johnny with one hand and pushing out the last drops of cum out of his cock with the other.

-----

After Ricky got back to normal and they both finished cleaning up, Johnny turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. As he grabbed a towel, drying off, he looked in the mirror again and couldn’t help but chuckle. He always thought shower jerk-off sessions with Rick were the weirdest way to start the day, but they were so hot, he couldn’t help doing it again. He went back to their bedroom and got dressed, feeling way more energized than earlier. As he made his way to the kitchen, he heard noise coming from the bathroom. “Weird,” he thought. “We were done showering like 10 minutes ago, why is he still in there?” Johnny opened the door and saw Rick, fully hunked out, admiring himself in the mirror. He looked at him and gave his typical cocky smile, stepping closer…

“Ready for round two?”

Through His Shorts

Marcus racked the previous set, wiped his hands, and immediately checked the mirror—rolling one thick shoulder, flexing the heavy chest under the cut gray Chicago tank like he was already proud of the work. Broad shoulders, thick arms, the kind of build that only came from years of heavy pressing. He logged the weight on his phone without looking, then dropped back onto the incline bench for the last set.

He was grinding out the last incline 100-pound dumbbells rep while his beefy arms shook .

“Come on… fucking push it—” he groaned through his teeth.

I hit him right then.

The weights crashed to the floor. His body jerked hard on the bench.

“AGHhh—fuck!” we yelled.

I was in.

I sat back, still breathing heavy, and looked at his flushed handsome reflection in the mirror. Damn he is out of breath as I struggled to breath, but I let a cocky grin spread wide across his face.

“Damn, pump’s looking fucking crazy today.” I made him boast arrogantly. Fuck, watching him say that looked so natural and hot.

I dragged his hands up the hard chest and thumbed one nipple through the open tank. His body twitched. A rough moan slipped out of his lips.

“O-ohh fuck…”

I laughed in his voice. “Shit, not going to let these sensitive tits go unwasted.” As I thumbed both of his nipples more, my attention quivkly grew to what was growing in front of me.

I dropped his hands to his gym shorts. He was free-balling, and thre tent that was forming showed his long, heavy dick thickening fast. I cupped his shaft through the fabric, felt the full weight of it, and gave it a slow upward flop. Then another. Then another. Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

THUD.

"Fuck yeah this will do some damage" each of his words crafted under my whim. I squeezed along his shaft, dragging the soft material against his head, teasing it without ever pulling it out.

“There we go… look at this thing,” I muttered in his heated voice begging for more. A damp stain started to form at his tip as I watched in the mirror as I kept playing with him through his thin shorts. Damn he's a leaky bastard.

I unlocked his phone using his face, hit record, and kept going.

“Gotta film this new routine...”

Marcus never would’ve done this. I was using his face, his voice, his hands—and his body just kept giving me more. I spread his legs wider and kept toying with that thick cock through the fabric, already deciding the rest of the night.

“Fuck… I'm trying out a whole new workout,” I said under his breath, still stroking through the shorts.

The moment the magic smoke hit, Cole's mind slammed into this godlike body like a freight train. No longer the scrawny 19-year-old nerd, he stared up at the ceiling fan from a towering, sweat-glistened frame—thick pecs heaving under his own unfamiliar hands.

"Oh fuck... these are mine?" he gasped, voice deep and velvety, sending shivers straight to his swelling cock. His palms roamed the rock-hard slabs of chest muscle, fingers digging into warm, slick skin that felt electric. Every squeeze made his new nipples harden, a low groan escaping his full lips. "Mmm, so heavy and plumpy... fuck, these are hotttt!"

The curly-haired stud in the mirror—his new reflection—flexed instinctively, biceps peaking like mountains. Cole's old life faded as this body's raw masculinity flooded him: thick musk rising from his pits, heavy balls churning between powerful thighs, and a fat cock thickening against his shorts with urgent need.

Fuckk! This body feels great!

A few minutes ago, I was a lost sea soul until I saw this body in the water. I noticed how it was struggling to swim in the currents and took advantage when it fainted. I slipped in and evicted his soul!

I woke up feeling strong as I managed to combat the current and swam to shore. I couldn't believe how strong I felt now, from training and playing rugby. Not a bad choice being hot and single.

POV: You lean toward the mirror, but the face waiting for you is too perfect to feel real. The brown hair, the mustache, the younger skin, the broad chest beneath it—none of it belongs to you but is exactly what you deserve. Your fingers trace the stranger’s chin while the reflection imitates you with sickening precision. For one brief moment, awe wins. Then you realize how easily this body could swallow your old life whole - and how quickly you could happily forget everything about who you were.

Bradley had just returned home alone after having a few drinks out with some friends, on a whim and still being a little drunk, he decided to peruse the profiles on a hookup apps. To his surprise, he received a message from one of those faceless muscle profiles. 

“jacked_muscle4nerd: hey handsome”

“HardcoverLover86: Hello.”

“jacked_muscle4nerd: you look like you would be so hot!! you wanna meet up?”

“HardcoverLover86: I’m a little surprised, as I didn’t think I would be your type.”

“jacked_muscle4nerd: nah bro! you are exactly what i lookin for. So can come over and fuck your brains out?”

With Christmas fast approaching, it was time for Santa to bring on a new round of helpers for the season. And so, he got to work on preparing some special gifts of Christmas cheer for those who needed a change in their life.