💎The Beauty of a (Gay) Man💎

I stood in the NYC hotel room in my suit, phone in one hand, the other sliding a pod into the coffee maker. The rich smell hit the air right away as the machine gurgled. I scrolled through Instagram while it brewed.

Jose’s story popped up first. There he was in a sharp navy suit that hugged his frame, hair neatly styled, flashing that easy grin straight into the camera. “Suited up and headed to court. Ready to fight for my right to live freely as I am today. Azure Sands doesn't have the right to steal my autonomy. Lets do this."

He looked sharp. Confident. The suit stretched across his chest just right, the jacket open enough to show the crisp white shirt underneath.

I was nervous to see him at the courthouse later today.

I took a slow sip of the coffee, feeling the fabric of my tight dress shirt stretch across my large chest and shoulders. It still didn't feel normal. This body just wasn't built for dress clothes.

I set the mug down and adjusted my tie in the reflection of the mirror hanging from the door. Not bad. Just not mine.

--

A little over two years ago I went to Azure Sands for a getaway.

I was 32, burnt out from nonstop work, and freshly single after my girlfriend and I called it quits. The idea of a body-swap experience sounded like the perfect way to get out of my head. I’d read the stories online—people talking about how freeing it felt, how intense the sex hit when you were wearing someone else’s skin. All anyone at the resort wanted to do was fuck as each other. I figured it’d be fun to try fucking as a completely different guy, different race, different build. Some people even ended up loving their new bodies so much they made the swap permanent. I wasn’t into that part, but it was still a glowing recommendation.

The resort was beautiful when I arrived. Turquoise water, white sand, palm trees everywhere. Everything smelled like sunscreen and salt air.

All was going according to plan at first. They had everyone check into the hotel and invited us to the Sapphire Lounge where we mingled as we waited for the pairings.

I was standing near the bar with a cold beer when this guy came up and introduced himself. Jackson. White guy from Memphis, maybe a few years older than me. He had a cool southern accent that rolled out slow and easy. Bald on top but really muscular, arms and chest filling out his tank top, cool tattoos down his arms.

We started chatting. He asked what brought me down here, and I told him the truth—needed to reset after a shit breakup and even shittier year at work.

“Same,” he said, clinking his glass against mine. “Figured swapping into something new would shake things up. You look like you take care of yourself. Bet you’d wear my body well.”

I laughed.

They made the announcement of the different pairs a little while later. When they called my name and Jackson’s, I felt a quick jolt of surprise. He turned to me with this satisfied look.

“What are the odds? Guess we’re doing this,” I said.

Jackson leaned in closer, voice low. “Actually, I paid for the higher tier package. Got to pick my swap partner before I even got here. They sent pictures and bios of everyone coming for the two weeks. I picked you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “For real?”

He nodded, that southern drawl thick. “For real.” His eyes flicked down my body again. “Flattered?” He said in a vaguely flirty tone.

I'd never been interested in guys, but for a split second I saw the appeal of corn-fed guy with a southern drawl.

“Yeah,” I said, feeling the heat in my face. “I am.”

---

The swap happened overnight. I went to bed in my own skin and woke up the next morning as Jackson—bigger, heavier, tattoos covering parts of my new arms and chest.

We ran into each other at breakfast. The whole dining area was full of people moving differently, testing out new heights and weights and voices. Jackson—in my old body—spotted me and waved me over.

“Morning,” he said, grinning with my old face. “Holy shit, this feels weird, right?”

I sat down across from him, rolling my new shoulders. “Feels like I’m wearing someone else’s clothes that are way too tight in the right places. These arms… I keep bumping into shit.”

He laughed and flexed one of my old biceps. “Tell me about it. Your body’s got speed though. I ran on the beach earlier and felt like I could keep going forever.”

We spent that first day bro-ing out about it. Hit the resort gym together, spotting each other on the weights.

After that day we kind of went our separate ways.

Everyone was too busy focused on the main reason they’d come here: to fuck. The resort had us all do STI tests on arrival and put every single person—men and women—on medical birth control. They knew exactly what this place was and weren’t trusting anyone with condoms.

The next two weeks were heaven. Hot women kept throwing themselves at me in Jackson’s strong, tattooed body. I could cum deep in whoever I wanted, whenever I wanted, with zero repercussions. And they were just as into it, chasing the same rush.

One night I ended up with this Brazilian girl who was wearing the body of some bitchy French woman from Paris. She had me literally weak in the knees. The way she rode me, grinding down hard while her tits bounced, had me gripping the sheets. I loved how Jackson’s thick beard felt dragging across their pussies when I ate them out—rough and warm, the scratch making them shake and moan louder every time. She came so hard on my face I could barely breathe, then begged me to flip her over and fill her up. I did, thrusting deep until I unloaded inside her, both of us sweating and cursing in the humid night air.

The only kind of weird thing during the stay happened a few nights in. I was walking back from the beach bar when I spotted Jackson across the resort. He was flirting hard with this tall, built guy. The guy had his hands all over him—grabbing Jackson’s ass through my old shorts, squeezing his arms. Jackson looked up at him with these eager, submissive eyes, like he was already gone for it.

I hadn’t realized he was actually gay. His whole dude-bro vibe had thrown me off.

Later I saw them heading toward a villa. Out of pure morbid curiosity I followed and peered through a side window. The curtains were open just enough. Inside, the big guy had Jackson bent over the bed. He ate my old ass like he was starving for it, tongue working deep while Jackson moaned and pushed back. Then the guy stood up, slicked his cock, and slid in.

I watched the whole thing. Jackson took every inch, gasping and gripping the sheets. The guy railed him steady and deep, hitting the right spot over and over. I didn’t expect what happened next. Jackson’s cock—my cock—started shooting without anyone touching it, just from his prostate getting pounded. Thick ropes hit the bed while he shook and cried out.

Damn, I thought, staring. My asshole is gonna hurt when I get back in there.

It didn’t bother me too much. I was more surprised than anything. We were all here for the same thing. If he was getting off and it felt that good, who was I to judge?

But I was thrown when Jackson brought it up on the last day. We were sitting by the pool, drinks in hand, when he leaned in.

“Look,” he said, voice low, “I’ve been thinking. I’m loving this body. A lot. What if we just… stayed like this forever? You can fuck me, or I fuck you?"

You see, the resort’s only real rule was that swapped pairs can’t fuck one another, otherwise the swap is permanent. That said, it was an open secret of the resort that they don’t care if guests do it on purpose.

I stared at him.

He kept going, eyes serious but still carrying that flirt. “You’d have a great life in my skin. Bigger dick than what you’re used to. Women come up to me all the time back in Nashville wanting to get fucked. It’s kind of wasted on me since I’m gay. You’d kill it.”

I shook my head. “I appreciate it, man. But I’m good. I want my body back.”

He relented, but not before flashing me a half-smile and letting his hand brush my thigh. “Your loss. That cock could stand to keep fucking pussy and you look damn good in that big muscular frame.”

I laughed it off.

Then something completely unexpected happened.

---

On the very last day, right before checkout, the resort staff called everyone into the Sapphire Lounge. The coordinator looked nervous as she delivered the news.

“There’s been a malfunction with the body swap technology,” she said, voice tight. “Due to a programming error, all of you actually underwent a permanent swap on the first day.”

The room went dead quiet, then erupted.

Jackson turned to me, face pale. “Fuck… I’m so sorry, man. I had no idea.” His words sounded genuine. But when I glanced down, his cock—my old cock—was rock hard and straining against his shorts. He shifted, trying to hide it, but I saw.

We didn’t have much choice. After the paperwork and the lawyers the resort threw at us, we went back to one another’s homes. He flew to my place in San Diego. I flew to his in Nashville.

We stayed in touch at first. Texts checking in, a couple awkward video calls where we tried to laugh about it. But we lived so far apart, and real life started pulling us in different directions. New jobs, new routines, new bodies to get used to. The contact faded after a few months.

I could see from social media how well Jackson was doing in my old body. He posted a picture a few months after the swap—him and this really hot boyfriend he’d met at the airport on the way back to San Diego of all places. Tall, sharp jawline, the kind of guy who looked like he worked out just to show off. They looked happy. Really happy.

My own life in Nashville was a string of one-night stands. I’d go out to bars, and women would come up to me, hands sliding over Jackson’s thick arms and chest, tracing the tattoos that still didn’t feel like mine. They loved the muscles, the beard, the way I filled out a shirt. I’d take them home, fuck them deep and hard, watching their eyes roll back while I gripped their hips with these bigger hands. The sex was good—great, even. But it left me depressed afterward. They weren’t into me. They were into Jackson’s body, his look, his vibe. Not the guy actually inside it.

Some of the guys around town were even more confused. A few times at bars, very good-looking dudes would slide up next to me, grinning like we had history. One leaned in close one night, hand brushing my thigh. “Been a while, Jackson. My place is close. You still into what we did last time?”

I had to let them down easy. “Sorry, man. Things are different now.” They’d look surprised, almost hurt, before backing off.

---

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, two years later Azure Sands reached out to everyone. They said they’d found a way to reverse it.

Some participants swapped back immediately. Others had settled into their new lives so well they refused. That left a small group where one person wanted to switch back and the other didn’t.

Tough luck for me—Jose was one of them.

The morning I found out, I called him right away, heart pounding.

“Dude, they can fix this,” I said, voice rushing. “We can swap back. I’ll book the flight today—”

“No,” he cut me off. His voice—my old voice—was calm and flat. “I’m not doing it.”

I stopped pacing the living room. “What the fuck do you mean you’re not doing it?”

“I mean I’m happy here,” he said. “I’ve got a boyfriend who actually gets me. I make more money in your old job than I ever did in mine. I like this body. I’m keeping it.”

We started yelling. I told him he had no right to steal my life. He shot back that I was the one who’d been living his—fucking half of Nashville—and that I should just admit I’d moved on too. The call ended with both of us pissed off and him hanging up first.

Jose ended up as the lead plaintiff in the lawsuit against Azure Sands for everyone who didn’t want to swap back. It blew up into a national media case. He went on national morning talk shows, sitting there with my old smile, looking sharp in suits that fit him perfectly. People ate it up. He talked about how much he loved his new life, his boyfriend, the dog they’d adopted, how the swap had finally let him become who he was meant to be. He made it sound unconscionable that anyone would try to force him to change now.

---

I stared at his latest Instagram story one more time—the one of him suited up, headed to court.

Time to go fight for my body back.

The court case had dragged on for a few months by now, and today was the big day of testimony. The courtroom felt stuffy under the fluorescent lights as they called up swappees from both sides—people desperate to get their old bodies back, people fighting to keep what they had, and couples who had mutually agreed to stay or switch. Lawyers grilled them on every detail: happiness levels, relationships, careers, mental health.

Finally, they called Jackson to the stand.

He walked up to the stand in my old body like he owned the room. The navy suit hugged his frame perfectly. His hair was styled neat, that easy grin flashing as he swore in. The Tennessee accent was completely gone, replaced by a smooth, light Chicano San Diego cadence.

The lawyer started easy. “Mr. Rivera can you tell the court why you wish to remain in your current body?”

Jackson leaned forward slightly, sincere. “I truly believe I was always meant to be Latino. Before the swap I already spoke Spanish fluently—Mexican Spanish, actually—along with English. The real Jose didn’t. When I woke up in this body, it felt like coming home. I love connecting with my culture now. The food, the music, the community. I go to family gatherings where I actually belong. Forcing me back would rip that away from me.”

He turned and looked directly at two older Hispanic women on the jury. “Y sé que ustedes entienden lo que significa sentirte parte de algo más grande,” he said in perfect, warm Mexican Spanish. “Esta es mi vida ahora. No quiero perderla.”

The two women smiled softly, nodding like he was the nicest grandson they never had.

He continued, voice steady. “I know I would suffer permanent psychological damage if I had to wake up to a different face in the mirror every day after getting so used to this one. I’m finally in a fulfilling relationship. My boyfriend—God, I love him so much—just proposed to me two weeks ago.” He held up his hand, showing the ring. A few people in the gallery sighed. “It would be unfair to drag him through this. He fell in love with me, this me.”

Jackson glanced over at the defense table where I sat, then back to the jury. “When I look at my former body now, I don’t feel anything for it. Those old tattoos? I hate them. They don’t represent who I am anymore. Forcing a swap back would be like making me become a stranger in my own skin. I’ve built a better life here—more meaningful work, deeper connections, real happiness. I volunteer at the local Latinx community center. I’m mentoring young guys who look like me now. This body lets me be the man I was always supposed to be.”

He was flirting with the jury the whole time, too—subtle smiles, eye contact that lingered just a beat too long. The older gay man on the jury kept nodding, completely hooked. The college-age hunk who looked probably closeted shifted in his seat, cheeks a little flushed every time Jackson’s gaze passed over him.

The lawyer wrapped up. “No further questions.”

As I sat there listening to him, my jaw clenched so hard it hurt. Every word out of his mouth made me angrier. I was always meant to be Latino. Bullshit. He talked about belonging like he'd earned it, like two years somehow outweighed thirty-two.

Jackson stepped down, shooting one last polite, charming smile toward the jury box before walking past my table. As he did, he leaned in just enough for me to hear.

“Sorry, man,” he whispered, that light accent curling around the words.

My attorney put a hand on my arm.

"You're up."

I stood and buttoned my jacket. Walking to the witness stand, I could already feel eyes on me. Jackson had practically floated up there. He smiled at people without even trying. He had that face that made strangers trust him before he said a word.

The clerk swore me in, and I sat down, the tight fabric of my dress shirt digging into my shoulders. My attorney started with the easy questions.

"Can you tell the jury why you're asking the court to order the reversal?"

"Because it's my body." I looked at every juror as I said it, trying to bridge the gap between Jackson’s gruff voice and my own soul. "I know you've heard a lot about identity over the last few weeks. You've heard about careers and relationships and happiness. I understand all of that." I nodded toward Jackson, sitting there in my old skin. "I'm glad he built a life. I really am. But he built it with something that wasn't his."

I held up my tattooed forearm. "I wake up every morning looking at somebody else's arms." I rubbed my thumb across the ink. "I still don't know what half of these mean." A few jurors smiled politely. "I shave somebody else's beard. I hear somebody else's voice. I catch myself in mirrors and for a split second I still expect to see..." I stopped, realizing there wasn't much point in romanticizing it. "My own face. I don't want his life. I never wanted his life. I just want mine back."

My attorney let that hang for a moment before sitting down. Then the defense attorney stood, wearing the same practiced smile he’d had all week.

"Mr. Carter, let's look at how you wound up in this situation to begin with," the defense attorney began, pacing slowly toward the witness stand. "You weren't forced to go to Azure Sands, correct?"

"No. I went on vacation."

"A very specific kind of vacation. You went there for the explicit purpose of swapping bodies with another human being."

"For two weeks," I clarified, my jaw tightening. "It was supposed to be a temporary experience."

"But you went willingly. In fact, according to the resort's logs and the discovery files we reviewed, you didn't just participate—you thoroughly enjoyed yourself. The records show you gave the experience a glowing review on your exit survey before the malfunction was announced." The attorney smiled, looking over at the jury. "You spent those two weeks engaging in numerous intimate encounters, taking full advantage of Mr. Rivera's physical build. By your own admission to the resort staff, you loved how it felt to wear his skin. You thought it was 'heaven.' Isn't that right?"

I felt the heat rise into my face, Jackson's thick neck growing warm beneath my collar. "We were all there for the same thing. It was a fantasy resort. That doesn't mean I wanted to give up my actual life forever."

"Of course," the attorney said smoothly, pivoting back toward me. "But the point remains: you willingly walked into an experimental procedure to abandon your biological identity for pleasure. And you've continued to live in it. You've now lived in your current body for over two years."

"Yes."

"You've maintained steady employment, continued your hobbies, made friends. You've dated."

I hesitated, thinking of the string of empty one-night stands in Nashville. "...Yes."

"So despite the circumstances, you've adapted."

"I didn't have a choice. I had no alternative."

The lawyer nodded slowly, walking a little closer. "You testified you've had numerous intimate relationships over the last two years. So women are attracted to your current appearance."

"They're attracted to his appearance."

"But no one forced you to date."

"What else am I supposed to do? I still have needs."

"So despite everything... you've managed."

Something about that word irritated me. "Managed? Yeah. Like a guy who loses a leg manages. You don't congratulate him for walking with a prosthetic."

The analogy landed poorly; a couple of jurors frowned. I pushed through the frustration anyway. "You all keep looking at me like this body is some prize. I'm a six-foot-three bald guy covered in tattoos. I look like I belong outside a biker bar. I walk into a grocery store and little kids stare. I don't exactly have grandmas pinching my cheeks and calling me handsome anymore."

Too late, I noticed the older Hispanic woman on the jury—the one Jackson had been charming in Spanish just minutes ago—fold her arms tightly across her chest.

"I didn't mean—" I cut myself off. The damage was done. I forced myself to finish. "This isn't who I am. I used to smile at people and they'd smile back. Now they move out of my way. I'm intimidating. I'm not approachable. I'm not... built to be this guy."

The defense attorney tilted his head, smelling blood. "Yet, you testified that people respect you. You said they don't mess with you."

"I meant... when you look like this, people tend to take you seriously."

"So this body commands respect. You enjoy that? It's useful."

"Look, anybody would enjoy not having people push them around."

"So you've benefited."

I didn't answer. He looked back at the jury with a satisfied nod. "No further questions."

The jury was dismissed to deliberate, and then all we could do was wait.

Nobody talked much. My lawyer tried making small talk for the first hour before giving up. Across the room, Jackson sat with his fiancé, their fingers intertwined. Every now and then I'd catch him looking at me with my old eyes. I couldn't tell whether he felt guilty or relieved.

Late the following afternoon, the bailiff opened the door. "The jury has reached a verdict."

My stomach dropped. We filed back in. The foreperson handed the paper to the judge, who unfolded it slowly.

"On the question before the court... the jury finds in favor of the defendant."

For a second, the words didn't process. Then it hit me. My lawyer lowered his head. Across the aisle, Jackson closed his eyes and let out a long breath, his fiancé gripping his hand.

The courtroom erupted the moment the judge adjourned. Reporters rushed toward Jackson before he even stepped into the aisle, calling him by my name as camera flashes filled the room. I stood there for another few seconds before quietly picking up my briefcase. Nobody stopped me. Nobody had any questions for the big guy in the corner.

By the time I reached the courthouse doors, I caught my reflection in the glass. Same shaved head. Same heavy build. Same tattoos. The same face I'd been trying to get rid of for more than two years.

This time, though, there wasn't another hearing to look forward to. The jury had decided that the man wearing my old face got to keep it, and I was left carrying the weight of a stranger.

[This Quick and Dirty story was written by a human (me) based on a prompt that was previously sent to generative AI. I wrote it in one uninterrupted stream-of-consciousness flow with a hard time limit of 20 minutes. It is not perfect. No edits have been made, except to correct typos.

Also, I realized I can get to the good stuff even quicker if I don’t have to describe the main characters in detail at the beginning of the story. So I used the first few seconds of my time to pull the kickoff image from the stash on my hard drive.

Also, this story (obviously) contains gay-to-straight themes. Read my ethos on G2S stories here.]

Hi, I’m Brad (right). I don’t know if this is a specifically Spanish thing or not, but my boyfriend Javier (left) is so prudish when it comes to me burping in front of him that I do like to make fun of him for how posh and European it is. Making fun of him, alas, does not always make up for my discomfort in trying to keep any gas down when he is in the room.

Thankfully, he has just left our beach blanket to go to the bathroom. I know he’ll be spending a good 15 minutes hovering around the toilet not trying to touch anything gross (good luck), so I breathe a sigh of relief. Really, I burp a sigh of relief. That soda I had earlier has been acting up, and I’ve been holding it in all day.

I feel a bit better now, so I look back at the blanket to our right, hoping to catch a glimpse of that sexy twunk who’s been tanning there all morning. But I guess he left, or something. There’s a new guy there now. A real conservative-looking businessman guy with a tight slickback who’s typing furiously on his phone. Why’d he even come to the beach, if he was just going to work the whole time?

I pop in my earbuds and cue up my Kim Petras playlist before picking back up with my people-watching. I spy two men splashing each other playfully in the surf. They’re both skinny, white, and a bit sunburned. One has long hair that reaches all the way to his ass, while the other has a bleach blond buzz cut. They share a kiss, and I feel my insides go all gooey. Aww, I love love.

No, wait. The gooey feeling inside me is another burp struggling to break free. I make sure Javier isn’t around and let one rip, then turn back to the couple in the surf. Something has changed since I first looked away, though.

The buzz cut guy is still there, but he’s standing next to some frat guy with dark black hair that swoops over his forehead. He has bulging biceps and a Delta Lambda tattoo on his thick quad. They don’t seem to know each other. They’re just standing around. The frat guy whistles at a lady in a bikini who is emerging from the surf, while the buzzcut guy seems to be trying to stop himself from checking out his guns. He doesn’t seem worried about where his boyfriend went. Well, then I guess I shouldn’t be, either.

It isn’t until my third burp that I notice what’s happening. It comes in quick succession after the second, so I know that Javier couldn’t possibly be nearby, and I just let it go while watching the pair of strangers in the surf.

But as soon as my burp explodes from my mouth, reality seems to… ripple, somehow. The buzz cut guy clutches his head. His hair darkens from blond to chestnut brown, growing rapidly and seeming to bounce as it rises into the air, forming a stiff, gelled quiff. Muscles explode across his frame, tearing his shirt off. The fabric falls, seeming to catch on his short shorts and extend them somehow, transforming them into blue and green board shorts. A Delta Lamba tattoo quickly etches itself across his newly mountainous pec, and all of a sudden, he pulls a NERF football out of nowhere. He and the black-haired guy toss it back and forth, guffawing like they’re best friends.

What the fuck just happened? What should I do? Should I… call a doctor? They don’t seem to be in pain. But a guy just transformed!

I yelp as Javier’s hand descends on my shoulder in greeting. I wasn’t expecting him, and I let out an involuntary burp in my surprise. His grip on my shoulder tightens and I turn to face him. His face is screwed up, but then it relaxes. His long hair has fallen over his face, but it begins to retract. Only at the front. The sun-bleached overtones of his hair fade to a neutral brown as his bangs recede into a short, conservative cut. All business. Unlike the party that’s now in the back.

Curly chest hair sprays out from around his nipples and in the center of his pecs, eradicating the waxed look I am used to him sporting. His speedo transforms into a pair of American flag board shorts, and he turns to me, grinning. “Thanks for inviting me to the beach, Brad. So many hot chicas out today. Would you mind if I took one of them home with me? Sorry, I know it’s not proper couch-crashing etiquette, but… damn!”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Javier?” I ask.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Mr. Fancypants. The name is Jake. Has been since we met in college, pal. Whatcha talking about with this foreign nonsense?”

He scratches his ass, lets out a burp, and plops onto the towel next to me, scrupulously leaving a foot or so between us while lowering his sunglasses to check out a pair of women who are walking by.

I’m about to say something else, but what comes out instead is another burp. I feel the pressure in my gut finally loosen. Actually, my entire gut loosens. My abs are eaten up by a beer belly that has emerged from my formerly flat abdomen. My pecs deflate slightly and settle on top of it, as dark blond hair rushes across my entire torso. I can feel it fluffing up in my armpits and rushing down my legs, too. It tickles my face as a full beard sprouts, standing out against my otherwise bald head.

“So whaddya say, Bubba? Do we take some ladies home at our earliest convenience?” asks Jake.

I think about that for a second. I was definitely just worrying about something, but it seems to have slipped my mind. No use trying to figure out what it was. Life’s a breeze if you let go of the stupid shit.

Damn! Who knew going to this fair would have me end up with a brand new body? And not just any random body, but the incredibly chiseled body of my sister's newest boyfriend, Alex! Man I always thought he was hot, but now seeing it from the inside, running my hands through these perfect abs, and tasting that wonderful deep scent in these pits, damn I'm in love! In love with my new perfect body that is!

And it all started with me being the third wheel of my sister's date with Alex. Our parents forced me to tag along just so I could keep an eye on her, since I was always the more responsible one even though she was two years older. Didn't help though, since she and Alex constantly disappeared from my sight and I later found them disgustingly making out behind some tent or attraction.

It wasn't until later in the evening that things really started to happen. First we stumbled into that creepy old fortune teller who read our futures. Flipping a bunch of tarot cards, me and Alex somehow ended up with similar ones: "A reversal of fates" the mythical man called it. Meanwhile, my sister was somehow going to end up heartbroken, which wasn't a surprise with the string of boyfriends she'd had.

Then there was that fun house with the mirror maze. As we stumbled around and slammed our faces into walls and each other, there was one point that I found myself staring at Alex's reflection in the mirrors. Weirded part was when I brought my hand up and inched closer, the reflection was doing the exact same thing. Even when I stuck my tongue out and rolled it around, Alex's reflection did the same. I was distracted for a brief second though by my sister's horrible laugh and Alex's deep chuckling from the other side of the maze, and when I turned back around my reflection was back to normal. My scraggy usual self.

There was so many other things that evening, like the basketball game which Alex clearly should've won since that's his favourite sport... but somehow I ended up winning and miraculous beating the record. Or the Haunted House which had the weird theme of a crazy scientist transplanting his brain into a young handsome hunk in his quest for immortality. It was weird though, because I was pretty sure that I had seen the actor who played the hot hunk walking around the fair with his rowdy group of friends earlier that day.

Finally, almost at the end of the evening, everyone had gathered in the main tent for a magic show held by the "dazzlingly and ingenious Mr. Wendigo". He did all those usual magic tricks, like pull a lizard out of a hat and make playing cards appear straight out of nowhere. It wasn't until the finale and he pulled out those two giant glass coffins that everyone perched up. He called it his greatest trick, something about some "Pharaoh's Curse" or something...

He apparently needed two volunteers so he looked around the audience until his eyes landed on us. He pointed at me and then at Alex, whom were busily making out with my sister and not paying attention to the show. He refused at first, groaning about being part of some "silly act", but with the other audience members edging him on he finally complied and detached himself from my sister's grasp.

We stepped into the respective glass compartments, the doors were shut behind us, and then the entire coffin began spinning. My vision became blurry, my stomach felt weird, and there was this pounding headache. Finally the whole thing stopped and the coffins were lowered back down. As the door opened and I stepped back out, there was a roar of applause around me. I didn't understand why though since I had come out of the same glass coffin that I had stepped inside of. It wasn't until I turned my gaze towards Alex's side of the scene that I realized exactly why; because standing over there was none other than myself!

I patted myself all over and felt taut muscles, a chiseled bearded jaw, and perfect six pack. Things I definitely didn't have, but Alex did! That's when I realized - the magic trick must've switched our bodies somehow! I had become Alex, my sister's new boyfriend! I could still taste my sister's cherry blossom lipstick in my new mouth, and that almost made me want to vomit.

I watched as Alex in my puny body tried to speak up, but he was immediately stopped short as the magician put his arm on his shoulder and somehow instantly froze him in place. The magician then thanked me and told me to go back to my seat, as the next trick only required one volunteer. I went back to Alex's seat and sat next to my sister, before watching the trick being performed once again, but this time with my old body being forcefully pushed inside and a donkey that happily strolled inside the other compartment. Once again the coffins spun around, and when it landed again my old body stepped out with a huge grin on its face while the donkey was braying loudly and anxiously. Finally, the donkey was forcefully pulled away while my former body walked back down and sat next to me, but not before giving me a mischievous wink.

The rest of the evening was such a pain. My sister was being so incredibly clingy and kept trying to force herself on me. In the end I had no choice but to break up with her right there on the spot. It was freaky enough having to hold her hands and smile at her constantly...

Now, I'm all alone at this fair with a spanking new body and identity. What should I do? I could go back to the mirror maze and jerk one off to my hundreds of hot reflections... or perhaps I should pay that hot hunk from the Haunted House a visit. It was obvious by his staring how much he was lusting after Alex. How much he was lusting after me.

There's so much fun to be had here on this fair... and the night's just getting started!

I've had my fair share of crappy work uniforms. When I worked at the corndog stand at the mall, they made me wear a lame striped shirt with a matching dorky hat. My last job as a server, they made everyone wear a giant sparkly name tag that lit up in bright letters. And the worst of them all was when I had to dress up as the giant dancing rat as a pizza place's mascot to entertain the customers. But unlike all of those, I very much enjoy my new job's uniform. Honestly its the best part of the job.

When I got hired at Alphalete, I didn't think I'd really fit into the culture. The gym was full of heavily muscled bros who looked like they work out for a living. Not only were the customers all jacked, but the employees themselves were an army of Spartan soldiers, looking ready for combat with their chiseled bodies. Honestly, while I was being interviewed, I had to put all my focus on the job ahead to not get distracted by the interviewer's massive set pecs poking from his collared shirt. So much more different than my more slender, untoned body. Compared to them, I was a stick with no muscles that could break with the slightest push. Even though I was sure I bombed it, the next day I got the call and the job was mine.

Going in on my first day, I had no idea what was in store. They told me to wear 'casual clothing' cause a uniform would be provided. When I arrived, a man similar to my physiche was there waiting for me. His messy brown hair and the way it looked like the shirt he was wearing was two sizes too large gave me a breath of relief; not everyone who worked here was some muscled adonis. He greeted me like we had met, but I had never seen his face before. Still, he asked me to follow him to the back, where he would show me my uniform.

"Today, we have you on a probationary period as you get used to the training and services we offer. Your job is to give simple guidance to the folks here, offer spotting, and familiarize yourself with the facilities." As he led me through the area accessible only to employees, I pondered how I would be able to help anyone lifting weights that were probably heavier than me. We finally arrived at a door labeled uniforms, and as I followed him inside, I was shocked to find walls of racks, hang upon them were what looked like naked heavy-set muscled bodies.

I was about to run away in terror when the guy next to me smiled, "No need to fret, they are not real people or anything! These are just the company-issued uniforms." It took me a moment to calm down and hear him out. Apparently, the secret of this gym is that not all the trainers and instructors who work here are strong in the traditional sense. As a motivator for the customers to reach their goals, all the employees wore these high-tech silicone bodysuits built with strength enhancers. That way, the gym can hire anyone regardless of body limitations, and the customers are more motivated to return. As he was saying that, the person demonstrated slipping on the suit and accompanying handsome mask, turning into the buff interviewer I had met before! His shirt now fit his new body, hugging the chest with his pepperoni-nipples poking through the fabric.

He pointed towards someone sitting passively on a chair. From his blank stare at the wall and lack of movement, I concluded that this was another uniform. "Here, this suit has just come in, just like you! Standard issue trainer body. Should allow you to perform all the tasks you need for your first day."

As I stared at the handsome man waiting for me to arrive, the red 'Alphalete' shirt and Under Armour compression pants barely containing the shredded muscles underneath, I couldn't help but smile hungrily. This, for sure, would be the Best Work Uniform I've ever gotten to wear.

Theo's POV

I never thought my twelfth birthday would end with doctors asking if my twin brother could move into my head, but that’s exactly how it went down.

Carson and I were identical twins—same messy brown hair, same green eyes, same smirk when we were up to no good. But I was the one tearing around the neighborhood on my bike, getting picked first for pickup games, and cracking jokes that had teachers shaking their heads with a grin. Carson was the quiet one. Smarter in that bookish way. He’d rather build massive Lego cities than chase a soccer ball, but we still did everything together. Until we didn’t.

I heard most of it secondhand. Mom pulled me into the hallway outside Carson’s hospital room, eyes red and puffy. Dad stood beside her, arms crossed so tight his knuckles were white, looking more exhausted than I’d ever seen him.

“The doctors say the disease is tearing up his nervous system,” Mom said, voice cracking. “They want to put him in a medically induced coma so his body can rest and try to heal. But Carson… he lost it when they told him. But he doesn't really have a choice.”

I shifted my weight. “So now what?”

Dad rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s this experimental procedure they’re testing. They can transfer his consciousness into another living person—share the body.”

I stared at them. “Share… with who?”

Mom glanced at Dad before answering. “They offered your father or you. Carson picked you, Theo.”

My stomach did a weird flip. “Me?”

Mom squeezed my shoulder. “It’s temporary, sweetheart. A few months at most. He’s been through hell already—the tests, the pain, missing everything. He just wants to feel normal again. Run around, play outside, be a kid. You two can switch who's in control whenever. The doctors swear it’s safe.”

I looked down at my sneakers. Part of me wanted to say no. This was my body. My life. I was the one who had soccer practice, who got invited to sleepovers, who everyone at school knew as the fun twin. But Carson was lying in that room looking small and scared, and the guilt they were laying on me was heavy.

“He really chose me?” I asked.

Dad nodded. “Without hesitation.”

I swallowed hard. “Okay. If it helps him get better… yeah. He can share with me.”

Mom pulled me into a hug so tight it hurt. “Thank you, Theo. You’re a good brother.”

---

They didn’t waste time. The next afternoon, after a bunch of tests and forms that our parents signed, they brought Carson and I to a procedure room. He looked pale and nervous, but when he looked at me he gave a weak smile.

“You sure about this?” he asked, voice small.

I tried to sound like my usual confident self. “Dude, it’s gonna be weird, but we’ll figure it out.”

The doctors placed the sensor bands on both our heads, explained the controls one more time—basically a mental “push” to switch who was driving—and started the process.

I felt a strange buzzing behind my eyes, like static in my skull. Then everything went fuzzy for a second.

When it cleared, I was still in my body… but I wasn’t alone.

I could feel him there. Not like a voice exactly, more like another presence in the back of my mind. Quiet. Waiting.

Hey, I thought, testing it. You there?

Carson’s reply came through hesitant but clear. Yeah. This is so strange.

Out loud I said, “Okay, this is officially the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to us.”

The doctors asked if we could switch. Carson mentally nudged me over, the way they’d described, and suddenly I was… watching. My own hands moved without me telling them to. Carson sat up straighter, looked around the room with my eyes, and smiled—my smile, but softer, the way only Carson smiled.

“Cool,” he said with my voice. “I can feel everything.”

He flexed my fingers, then reached up and touched my face like he was making sure it was real.

After a minute he receded, and I was in control again.

---

The first couple of months were weird, but not as bad as I thought they’d be.

Carson stayed mostly quiet in the back of my head. He almost never asked to take over. I’d feel him there, watching everything—soccer practice, riding bikes with the neighborhood kids, laughing at lunch with my friends—but he was happy just riding along. Like a normal kid again.

This is awesome, he’d think sometimes when I was kicking a ball around or eating pizza after a game. That was about it. No big conversations, no fighting over control. I’d offer to switch sometimes, but he’d always say he was good. I kept living my life, and he got to tag along without anyone knowing. It actually felt kind of nice having him there. Like old times, but quieter.

Then things started to go sideways when we found out his body wasn't getting better.

At first it was just small updates from the doctors. “Some setbacks.” “Slower progress than we hoped.” Mom would come home from the hospital looking drained, and Dad would sit at the kitchen table staring at nothing. I could feel Carson getting more tense in the back of my mind, but he still didn’t say much.

By month four, the hope was gone. The disease had done too much damage. Carson’s body wasn’t going to wake up the way they wanted. Not ever.

We had the conversation as a family one night after dinner. Mom and Dad looked wrecked. I sat there with my arms crossed, trying to act like the strong one.

“We can’t put him back in there just to die,” Dad said quietly.

Mom nodded, eyes wet. “The doctors say… it could be any day now. Or it could drag on for weeks. But there’s no recovery.”

I felt Carson shift inside my head. Not words, just a heavy kind of sadness.

“So what?” I asked. “He just stays with me forever?”

Dad looked at me. “For now, yeah. Until we figure something else out. You’ve already been doing it for months, Theo. You’re handling it like a champ.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to say this wasn’t supposed to be permanent. But every time I thought about shoving Carson back into a dying body, I felt sick. He was my brother. My twin.

“Yeah,” I said finally, keeping my voice steady. “We’ll keep sharing. It’s fine.”

Carson didn’t say anything, but I felt a small wave of gratitude from him.

A week later, Carson’s body died in the coma.

The funeral was on a gray Tuesday. I was wearing the itchy black suit Mom made me put on. My friends from school had come, and a bunch of relatives I barely knew kept patting my shoulder and saying how sorry they were.

Suddenly, I felt Carson surge forward without warning. My body stood there completely still while the casket went down. No tears, no shaking, just staring straight at the grave with my face set hard.

Carson? I thought. Hey, talk to me.

Nothing. He didn’t answer. I tried for the first time to force my way back into control of my body, but he didn't let me. Didn’t even seem to notice I was there. He just kept control. It was almost as if his presence was stronger in my head than mine was.

For the next three days he stayed in charge. He went to school as me, sat through my classes, answered when teachers called on him. He even played soccer at recess, but quieter than I usually did. My friends noticed something was off and asked if I was okay. Carson just shrugged and said, “Yeah, I’m good.”

I tried to take over every night when we were alone. He blocked me every time. No explanation. No conversation. Just silence.

By the fourth day, he finally let me push through while he was brushing my teeth before bed.

I spat out the toothpaste and looked at myself in the mirror. “Carson… you good, man?”

He didn’t answer right away. When he did, his thoughts felt exhausted. Yeah, I'm fine.

I wanted to say more. To ask why he shut me out, why he wouldn’t even talk to me. It felt strange having him lock me out like that in my own body. Uncomfortable. Kind of violating, if I was honest. But I bit it back.

He’d just watched his own body get buried. He’d lost everything except this—except me. If he needed a few days to just… be a normal kid, I could deal with it.

“Alright,” I said out loud, keeping my tone casual. “Whenever you’re ready. I’m here.”

I didn’t push it after that. But deep down, I was already wondering how long we could actually keep doing this.

---

A few years went by and somehow this became our normal.

By the time we hit sixteen, I had it down to a system. School days? Carson took the wheel. He’d sit through classes, grind through homework, ace the tests, and even show up for the volunteer shifts at the animal shelter that looked good on college apps. I’d check out in the back of my own head, thinking about who I was texting later or which party I could sneak into that weekend. It worked. He got straight A’s, I got to stay popular. Win-win.

To deal with the high stress of our unusual arrangement, Carson took up weight lifting. He’d wake up super early, take over control, and spend two hours in the basement with Dad’s old bench press while I was still half-asleep. By junior year our body looked fucking incredible—broad shoulders, arms that filled out t-shirts the right way. Girls noticed. I made sure to enjoy that part.

In fact, he let me have all the fun—spring break road trips down the coast, summer parties at the lake, Friday nights where I’d sneak out after Mom and Dad went to bed. I’d hook up with whoever was into it and Carson would stay quiet in the back, never complaining.

But as much as he did all the hard work for me, I still started to resent having to share my body with him. I never said it out loud, but some nights, lying in bed, I’d feel him there and think about how nice it would be to have my head to myself again. Just for a day. An hour.

It didn't help that Carson also became our parents' unequivocal favorite after all this. To them, Carson was the golden boy. Good grades, polite, always offering to help around the house. Then when I was in control, I was always getting up to trouble in their eyes.

One night I came home past curfew, still smelling like bonfire smoke and some girl’s perfume. Mom was waiting in the kitchen, arms crossed.

“Theo, this is the third time this month. You’re out all hours, not answering your phone—”

“It was just a party,” I said, keeping my voice easy, flashing the same smile that usually worked on everyone else.

Dad walked in, looking disappointed. “We wish you could be more like… well, like your brother.”

Mom sighed. “Carson never pulls this. He’s focused. He actually cares about his future.”

I smirked, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Oh yeah? If you like him so much, here.”

I shoved control forward hard. Carson took over mid-step, blinking as he adjusted.

“Mom, Dad, it’s me,” he said quietly with my voice. “Theo was just out with friends. I’ll make sure we’re both on top of things tomorrow.”

They softened immediately. Dad clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, son. We know this isn’t easy on either of you, but you’re handling it so well.”

I stayed in the back, arms crossed in my mind, letting him soak up the praise while I stewed.

It happened a couple more times that year during bigger blow-ups. They’d start in on me for being lazy or staying out too late, comparing me to Carson, and I’d force the switch right there. He never complained to me about it afterward. He’d just think, You good?

Yeah, I’d reply. I’m good. But fuck I was annoyed that my parents couldn't see how unfair they were being to me after I'd given up everything to help Carson.

---

We got the Oxford letter in the spring of senior year. Astrophysics. I didn’t give a damn about what Carson decided to study as it got us out of the house. I’d been pushing for somewhere big and loud back home — ASU, Clemson, Auburn — parties every weekend, football games, girls everywhere. But Oxford? I had to admit it sounded good coming out of my mouth.

“Yeah, heading to Oxford in the fall,” I’d say at parties or when people asked. Their eyes would light up. The muscular jock who was also smart enough for Oxford. I loved that shit. Loved the way girls started texting me more once the news spread.

So we moved to England. New city, new appartment, new life. At first it felt like freedom.

Then the coursework hit.

Carson insisted on being in control all the time to keep up with it. He would grind through the material late into the night most weekdays and during the day on the weekends. I’d then only get to be in control on weekend nights where I would waste no time hitting the pubs and chatting up girls.

Still, Carson would always be pushing to go back home those nights. Theo, we need to catch up on orbital mechanics before the next tutorial, he’d push. I’d wave it off. Chill, man. We’ve got this.

I'd be lying if I said tension wasn't already building between us, but things came to a head when he met Davie.

It was in a physics study group. This guy — slim, dark curly hair, sharp smile — kept hanging around with us after all our other classmates left, asking questions that he seemed like he already knew the answers to just to make Carson feel smart.

One night night, back in the flat, Carson spoke up in our mind while I was in control scrolling on Instagram.

Theo… I need to tell you something.

What’s up?

I’m gay. I’ve been sure for a while. Didn’t want to say anything before. But… I like Davie. From the study group. I want to ask him out. Just a coffee date or something.

I froze. Oh, ok. I thought back. Dude, that’s fine by me.

Relief washed through him. Thanks.

But asking him out? I pushed. I don't think you should do that. People will think I’m gay. That shit will spread around campus. And that shit will kill my cred with the girls.

Carson went quiet for a second. Then: It’s not fair, Theo. You get to party every weekend. You get to hook up, have fun, live your life in this body. I’ve been carrying the schoolwork, the volunteering, everything hard for years. I deserve to be happy too.

I felt a flash of guilt, quickly buried under irritation. Yeah, well, this is still my body. You're lucky I'm letting you live in it at all.

He didn’t argue after that. But I could feel him thinking.

The next study group was a few days later. I figured we’d review the material, then I’d take over and head to a party I’d heard about. But when the session wrapped up, Carson stayed in control. I tried to push forward. He held firm and kept me out.

Davie was packing up his notes. Carson walked over and cleared his throat.

“Hey, Davie,” he said, voice calm but a little nervous. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab coffee or a drink sometime. Just us. Like… a date.”

Davie’s face lit up with a surprised, genuine smile. “Yeah. I’d really like that. Tonight work?”

Carson smiled back with my face. “Tonight’s perfect.”

I sat in the back of my own head, stunned, watching the whole thing happen. Davie gave us his number, and they set a time. As we walked out of the library, I tried again to take control. Carson wouldn’t let me.

Carson. What the hell?

He didn’t answer. Just a quiet, determined feeling from him as we headed back to the flat to get ready.

Carson stayed in control the whole evening. I was stuck in the passenger seat, watching everything unfold like a bad movie I couldn’t pause.

He met Davie at a small café near campus just after seven. They grabbed drinks and ended up talking for hours. Davie told stories about growing up in Manchester, his terrible attempts at cooking, and how he wanted to work on satellite design after graduation. Carson laughed easily with my voice and opened up about the pressure of Oxford and how much he loved weight lifting to clear his head.

“You’re not at all what I expected when I first saw you in study group,” Davie said at one point, grinning. “You’ve got this whole confident jock thing going on, but you actually care about the material. It’s refreshing.”

Carson smiled. “Yeah, well… there’s more to me than people think.”

They closed the café down. When it was time to leave, Davie hesitated, then asked, “Want to come back to my flat? It’s not far. We could watch a movie or something. No pressure.”

Carson didn’t even glance back at me for permission. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Back at Davie’s small, messy flat, they put on some sci-fi movie I’d never heard of. They started on opposite ends of the couch. By the middle of the film, Davie had shifted closer. He reached over and laced their fingers together. Carson’s heart — my heart — started hammering. I could feel the flush in our cheeks.

Davie’s other hand moved slowly, resting first on my thigh, then sliding up to squeeze the muscle there. “You’re really strong,” he murmured, almost shy. His fingers traced up to my bicep, giving it a gentle squeeze. “This is… impressive.”

Carson stayed quiet, but I felt how fast his breathing had gotten. When Davie leaned in and kissed him, soft at first, then deeper, Carson froze for half a second before kissing back.

Our heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might explode.

Davie pulled back a little, smiling. “You okay?”

Carson swallowed. “Yeah. I’ve… never done this before.”

Davie raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely surprised. “Wait, really? I just assumed—”

Carson cut him off quickly, voice a little embarrassed. “No, I mean… never done this before with a guy.”

Davie’s expression softened. He brushed a thumb over our knuckles. “How is it? Do you like it?”

Carson nodded, still catching his breath. “I like it a lot.”

They kissed again, slower this time. After a minute, Davie pulled back just enough to look at him curiously.

“So why now?” he asked. “Why with a guy? Why me?”

Carson gave a small, easy smile. “Because you’re really hot… and you haven't stopped making eyes at me in study group. Kinda made it impossible not to go for it.”

Davie laughed softly, clearly pleased, and pulled him in for another kiss.

I sat in the back, jaw clenched, saying nothing. But the resentment burned hotter than ever.

After the kissing got heavier, clothes started coming off. Davie’s hands were all over my chest and arms, squeezing the muscle Carson had built. Carson was breathing hard, letting it happen, following the heat.

They moved to Davie’s bed. Carson was on top, and things escalated quickly. He lined up and tried to push in all at once, the way I’d done with plenty of girls. Davie’s eyes widened and he let out a sharp scream, grabbing onto my shoulders.

“Fuck— wait!” Davie gasped.

Carson froze immediately. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

Davie laughed breathlessly, even though his face was still tight. “No, you’re good. You’re just… way too big to shove in like that without warming me up first. Go slower, yeah?”

Carson nodded, embarrassed but eager. He pulled back, took his time this round, using his fingers and more lube until Davie was relaxed and pushing back against him. When he finally slid in all the way, Davie moaned loud, his hole tight and hot around us.

“God, that feels good,” Davie breathed.

Carson started moving, finding a rhythm. He had watched me hook up enough times that his form was solid—deep, steady strokes that had Davie gripping the sheets. But this was different. Davie’s hole stayed so tight, clenching around us with every thrust. Carson groaned with my voice, hands roaming over Davie’s chest and sides.

They started feeling each other up more. Davie ran his hands over my biceps and abs, squeezing hard. “Flex for me,” he said, voice rough.

Carson paused mid-thrust, looking a little awkward, then clumsily flexed my right bicep. The muscle popped up tight. Davie grinned and kissed it. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Carson got bolder. He grabbed Davie’s hips, lifted him up while still inside, and fucked him in the air for a few strokes like he weighed nothing. Davie’s eyes rolled back. “Holy shit, Theo—”

Then Carson set him down gently and flipped him over into doggy style. He pressed in close from behind, wrapping one arm around Davie’s chest in a hug while still thrusting. He kissed the back of his neck, surprisingly tender. Davie pushed back against every stroke, moaning.

Carson reached around and wrapped his hand around Davie’s uncut cock, stroking him in time with his hips. Davie was throbbing hard, leaking all over my fingers.

They switched again. Davie climbed on top, riding cowboy. He bounced faster, taking us deep, his own cock slapping against my abs. Carson kept one hand on his hip and the other stroking him.

“I’m close,” Davie gasped.

He came first, shooting across my stomach in thick streaks. Carson didn’t hesitate—he scooped some up with his fingers and licked it off, tasting it. Davie watched with wide, turned-on eyes.

That pushed Carson over the edge. He gripped Davie’s hips tight and came deep inside him, groaning loud with my voice as our body tensed and released.

They collapsed together, sweaty and breathing hard. Davie curled up against my chest, and Carson wrapped an arm around him. They fell asleep like that, cuddling close under the blanket.

Carson finally drifted off, content. I didn’t say a word to him that night.

Carson stayed in control for the rest of that week. He spent most nights at Davie’s flat. I felt everything — the laughing, the making out, the sex. He was getting more confident each time, learning what Davie liked. I tried to push for control constantly, but he kept me locked in the back.

By the following Saturday evening he finally let me back in. I didn’t waste a second.

I took over and headed straight to the pub. I was pissed. I drank hard, shot after shot, trying to shake off the week of being trapped in the passenger seat while he lived out whatever this new life was. I flirted with a couple girls, but I was too sloppy. They gave me weird looks and moved away. Everything after that is a blur. I have no idea how I got back to the flat.

I woke up the next morning with a brutal hangover. Sunlight stabbed through the curtains. And Carson was back in control.

Carson? I thought immediately. Give me the body back, man. I feel like shit.

He didn’t respond. He just got up, walked to the kitchen, and picked up the phone like I wasn’t even there.

“Mom? Dad?” His voice — my voice — shook as he spoke. “It’s Carson. Something’s wrong. Theo went out partying last night and… when I woke up I couldn’t hear him anymore. His voice is just gone. I feel completely alone in here. I don’t know what to do.”

I started screaming inside. Carson, what the fuck are you doing? I’m right here!

Our parents’ voices came through the speaker, calm. Worried for him, but not panicked. “Sweetheart, don’t freak out,” Mom said gently. “Just breathe. It’ll be okay. You’ll figure it out. We’re here for you.”

Dad added, “Stay safe. We love you. Call us if anything changes.”

I felt sick. They didn’t even sound that upset. Like losing me was just another complication for their golden boy to deal with.

Carson hung up, walked back to the bed, and lay down. He pushed our shorts down and started slowly stroking our cock, eyes half-closed, thinking about Davie. About how good it felt to fuck him.

Carson! I screamed. Stop this. Talk to me!

He finally answered, voice cold in my head. “Shut up, you dick. I can hear you. You know what? I am so sick of this. I think I’ve been able to do this since the beginning, but I never wanted to try because it would be awful. But I’m done with your shit, Theo.”

What are you talking about? I thought, panic rising. Stop messing around.

He kept jerking off, steady strokes, while he flexed our right arm, admiring the bicep in the mirror across the room. I felt him start pushing. My presence got squeezed, shoved into a smaller and smaller corner of our brain.

I screamed louder. Carson! Don’t! Please!

He ignored me, breathing heavier, stroking faster. His thoughts were full of Davie — tight heat, moans, the way he’d looked up at us. Our body tensed, muscles hard. I felt weaker, smaller, like I was fading.

Carson, I’m your brother! Stop!

One final hard stroke and he came, groaning as he spilled over our hand. In that moment the pressure became unbearable. He shoved hard, and I was ejected. Everything went white.

---

Carson's POV

I lay there in the quiet of the flat, chest still heaving a little, staring up at the ceiling through eyes that were finally, completely mine. Theo’s body—my body now—glistened with streaks of my own cum across my abs and chest. It felt warm, messy, real. I dipped two fingers into the biggest pool of it, scooped some up, and slowly rubbed it across my pecs, spreading it in lazy circles over the muscle I’d built for years. The smell hit me—thick, masculine—and a low groan slipped out of my throat. Theo’s throat. Mine.

Part of me waited for the guilt to crash in. I’d just erased my own brother. My twin. But the longer I rubbed that slick warmth into my skin, the more that little voice faded. Nah. Fuck that. Theo had been treating me like a parasite for years. Using me for grades, for the heavy lifting, for keeping our parents off his back while he partied and fucked whoever he wanted in my downtime. This? This was justice. Long overdue.

I reached over for my phone and opened the camera. The screen lit up on my face: flushed, hair messy. I angled it down, capturing the shine across my chest and stomach, my spent cock still half-hard against my thigh. Click. Perfect.

I typed out the text to Davie, smirking the whole time.

Me: Partied a little too hard last night. Woke up like this and all I could think about was how much better it would’ve been if you were here to wake up next to me. Wanna come over and spend the rest of the afternoon cuddled up in bed?

I hit send, then admired the selfie again before putting the phone down. Yeah… I’m definitely making this guy my boyfriend. For real. Mom and Dad are gonna be so happy I finally have a steady relationship after all these years of “me” being the responsible one. They’ll eat it up—proud of their golden boy settling down with a nice British guy.

I ran my hand down my stomach again, smearing more of the cum lower, fingers brushing over my cock. It twitched hard, thickening back up fast. Fuck. This body was all mine now. Every inch. The broad shoulders, the arms that could lift Davie like he weighed nothing, the dick that made him moan like that. No more sharing. No more passenger seat. No more Theo.

All mine. All mine. All mine.

My cock throbbed fully hard again in my grip, and I laughed low and satisfied, giving it a slow stroke as I waited for Davie’s reply. This was just the beginning.

My brother's tongue had gotten him into plenty of trouble, that was certain, but it had also made him into a legend among all of the girls at our school. "The Tornado," they called him for the ways he twisted and turned that tongue inside of their eagerly-awaiting pussies. I'm sorry to talk about these things in such vulgar terms, but this is the sex-driven language my brother himself used to describe his own skills.

When his mom remarried, Tommy was excited about having siblings for the first time. He had always been an only child, and he wanted to know what it was like to have a brother or sister he could talk to. He knew it would take time to develop a relationship with his new stepsiblings and stepfather, but he remained optimistic. On paper, Chuck seemed like a great dad, raising his two boys, Adrian and Lukas, on his own while keeping a stable job. But Tommy soon learned that, while they were the perfect family for his mother, his life at home wasn’t the picture-perfect dream he had hoped for.

It seemed like the new side of his family enjoyed putting on two fronts. On one hand, Chuck was the sweetest, loving husband to his mother. He romanced her, took her out on dates, and whispered sweet nothings about the future they were building together as a blended family. Adrian and Lukas were respectful and helpful with whatever she needed, earning her praise for being such good boys. But Tommy was certainly seeing a different side of them. Whenever she wasn’t around, Adrian and Lukas would often torment him by making him do all the chores and errands they didn’t want to do. Even though he was older than Lukas, his stepbrothers had spent years pumping iron and building their bodies into absolute tanks. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, the two of them looked like they embodied the idea of toxic masculinity. It didn’t help that they would speak such vile things to Tommy in private, calling him slurs, smacking him around, and repeating the same alpha-male, conservative, pussy-slaying bullshit they heard on those manosphere podcasts. They spoke about all the women they were sleeping with, as if it were a game to them.

Bringing it up to Chuck didn’t help either. His stepfather didn’t seem to even know that Tommy existed, or care that he had these sorts of troubles. In fact, he seemed more protective of his own sons, believing that there was no wrong that they could do. It became quite clear to the young man that his stepfather had bought into the same kind of thinking his sons had. If he had to guess, Tommy figured Chuck was the one who taught them to think like this. The gruff, older man always talked about how he wished Tommy’s mom didn’t have such a wimpy kid like him and how he was a disgrace to the family. Chuck loved to point out that he was someone who didn’t even deserve to be called a “man.” He didn’t even have a name, only being called “boy” at best, or some other heinous, vile slurs whenever his mom wasn’t around to hear. It was nothing like he had expected when he had hoped for a new family.

His complaints to his mother in private only reaffirmed her belief that “her boys just needed to bond.” So, amidst Tommy’s silent protests, she had asked Chuck to bring Tommy along for the annual boys' trip they held over the summer. Since she was going out of town for a business trip, Chuck had agreed to the request. He made sure to invite along some of the guys who usually came on the trip, including their next-door neighbors. Tommy could only guess what sort of people they were as the trip approached.

The weekend was full of those “All-American” activities, with the rest of the group enjoying a roughhouse game of football, shooting guns, and swimming in the lake. Tommy was at least enjoying his privacy in the cool water, slinking away into one of the more shaded corners of the area while he watched his stepbrothers and their friends goofing off with the water jet skis. He was hoping to wait until they had all left so he could climb out of the water in peace, but then something metallic caught his eye beneath the surface. There was a silver, glimmering sheen, like a swarm of something underneath. Tommy paddled a bit closer, only to see a cluster of glimmering tadpole-like creatures circling each other in the water. The young man reached his hand out carefully, chuckling softly to himself as he watched the tadpoles slide over his fingertips. There was a thrumming, almost electric-like quality to them, but nothing that stung or hurt him. Each time one of those small, strange creatures brushed over his skin, he could feel a thought starting to emerge from the corners of his mind. It was like a bubble pressing up from the water, forming and swelling until it burst at the surface.

Sanctuary. Home. Vessels. Seeking.

It felt strange to Tommy when those intrusive thoughts surfaced. And yet, he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling or think of anything else. From an outsider’s perspective, it was almost as if his eyes had glazed over, with a silvery film causing his vision to be a bit cloudy. He hurried over to his pack of supplies, which he had brought out here with him, and grabbed his metal water bottle. With it already empty, Tommy unscrewed the cap and scooped up all of the glimmering tadpoles in one fluid motion. The vibration seemed to shift over to his head, and he found himself stumbling out of the lake and hurrying back to the cabin. He had to find a suitable place to put them so he could observe them better. Maybe he had discovered something new, some scientific discovery that could let him escape this town, so he didn’t have to be under the same roof as his alpha-driven family.

On his way to the back door of the cabin, he passed Chuck and their next-door neighbor, Frank. The two older men were busy with the grill, laying out a wide assortment of meats, including burgers, hot dogs, and steaks. There were already quite a few empty beer bottles lying around, although neither of them looked phased by the day drinking. If anything, they barely noticed Tommy stepping by, the sopping-wet young man almost making a clean escape into the house. But Chuck snapped his fingers, glancing over his shoulder from his spot in front of the grill with a narrowed gaze.

“Boy, go grab Frank and me some more beers, will ya? And pass them out for the rest of the house. I told you, you’re only allowed to stay here so long as you keep the drinks flowing.”

A brief, silent nod, and Tommy stumbled toward the kitchen. His mind was too busy thinking about the need for VESSELS and how to find someplace suitable so they could SPREAD and INFECT. He didn’t even notice that he had pulled out a fresh pack of ice-cold beers, his hands already moving on autopilot to crack off the bottle caps. He was just about to pick them up and take them outside when his eyes fell on his water bottle sitting next to the beers. Tommy didn’t even remember when he fished it out of his backpack. But his lips curled up into a small smirk at the idea of playing a little prank. Maybe there was some way he could get some revenge on all the torment he had been facing over all this time.

Carefully holding his bottle steady, Tommy poured out the lake water until one silvery creature slipped into each beer bottle. It was perfect to CORRUPT anyone who drank down TAINTED liquid now. He grabbed a few and quickly hurried out the back porch to the two men grilling away for dinner. The young man handed over the beer bottles, his silver eyes lingering on the way Frank’s chest pressed against his shirt, and his tattoos were on full display. Tommy could feel a growing hunger in his chest, in a way that was hard to explain. But the older man seemed to catch a glimpse of his gaze, and Frank’s expression narrowed in a steely look as he snatched away the cold beers from the young man.

“Keep your eyes off me. I didn’t come on this trip to be ogled at by some little freak,” Frank spat out, before turning back to the grill to hand Chuck his own bottle. The two men clinked their beers together and took a hearty swig, already ignoring and forgetting that Tommy existed. Satisfied with their lack of interest in him now, the young man quickly moved back into the house to give out drinks to the rest of the group.

There was a pulsing sensation that seemed to make his head ache and throb a bit more with each successive step he took. Tommy grunted as he grabbed the remaining beer bottles, making his way upstairs where the rest of the guys were after their water activities. Turning the corner into the hallway, the young man was quickly blocked by a broad, heavy chest that blocked his view. His eyes slowly moved up until he was staring up at Garrett, the older of Frank’s sons who lived next door. The big, beefy man stared down at Tommy with an annoyed look in his eyes, a towel wrapped around his thick waist from having just gotten out of his shower.

“Yo, Adrian! The little bitch is out here getting in my way. What, you thought you could get a glimpse of me showering, you little perv?” Garrett growled as he pushed Tommy’s shoulder. His lips curled up into a cruel smirk as the younger man stumbled backward, almost spilling the beer bottles he had in his hands. “Careful there. You better not waste the beers my dad brought for us, or I’ll make sure you lick it up off the floor.” The barely-clothed man reached out to snatch up his bottle, only staring down Tommy as he took a deep drink from it. He practically chugged down the alcoholic drink, only pulling the bottle away from his lips to let out a big, gassy belch right in the younger man’s face.

“Get the fuck out of here, before I beat you with this beer. You’re lucky I’m not as pissed off seeing your stupid face,” he spat out, shoving the empty bottle back into Tommy’s hands. Garrett brushed past him, making sure to shove the younger man with one of his boulder-sized shoulders as he spat out some more slurs while looking for Adrian. It wasn’t until the door was slamming shut behind Garrett’s broad back that Tommy let out a shaky breath of air in relief. He carefully turned around to see if the other was gone, only to be jumpscared by the sight of his older stepbrother staring daggers at him.

Storming over to Tommy, Adrian also snatched up the other beer bottle. He rolled his eyes at the smaller, wimpier form of the younger man, only taking his own sip from the beer bottle. “Don’t embarrass me in front of the bros. It’s bad enough that Dad agreed to bring you along. Just stay out of sight and stop getting in our way.”

Tommy was left standing in the hallway on his own for a moment, and the young man could only sigh once more. He hoped he could just drop the last two drinks off and hide in his room until dinnertime. With his luck, the rest of them would just forget he was there, and he could sneak some leftovers after people had gone to bed. Making his way back down to the kitchen, he stumbled onto the scene of Lukas and the younger brother of the neighbors, Milo. The two of them were practically inseparable since the trip had started, given that they were the “younguns” of the group. But given their size and level of aggression, it was hard to tell that they were younger than Tommy. The two boys had already downed the last two bottles of beer that he had spiked, grinning at him as he walked into the kitchen.

Milo raised the empty bottle, only wiggling it in his hands as he set it on the countertop. “There you are. Took your time getting to us, huh?” The cocky young man was shirtless, having spent most of the weekend showing off his muscles and complaining about how it was “too hot to put on anything.” The jock grinned as he gestured towards the empty cardboard carrier, clearly amused that there was nothing left for Tommy to drink.

“You weren’t planning on having any, right? A sissy like you probably doesn’t even know how to handle his drinks,” Milo snorted. He began walking over towards Tommy, his eyes glimmering with a devious glint. The smaller man felt like a deer trapped in headlights, his eyes widening as the taller man stalked up towards him. In the meantime, Lukas had grabbed his metal water bottle, still sloshing full of the lake water he had scooped up earlier.

The two younger men quickly flanked Tommy and gripped his wrists firmly. Dragging him over to the kitchen island countertop, the two hoisted him onto the cold, smooth surface with relative ease, despite Tommy’s attempts to struggle against it. Lukas stood over him, while Milo was keeping him pinned down and subduing his thrashing.

“Whoa, there, dude. You just looked a little thirsty after missing out on the beer. It’s your first July 4th celebration with us. Why don’t we give you something else to drink instead, so you’re not missing out?” Lukas laughed. And before Tommy had the chance to reply, his younger stepbrother began pouring out the contents of the water bottle down his throat. His eyes bulged in surprise as the influx of liquid and silver tadpoles began flooding his mouth faster than he could swallow, and Tommy couldn’t help but thrash around in response.

His eyes began to blur, black spots appearing as water poured onto his face. He could hear the snarky, snide cackles from Lukas and Milo as they had their fun with him. And then, the overwhelming pressure was gone. There was the distinct clanking of his metal water bottle hitting the tiled floor in the kitchen, followed by two thumps of bodies falling over. Tommy coughed and spluttered up some water, managing to roll over onto his side to look over the edge. On the ground, beneath him, he could see Milo and Lukas clutching at their heads, their eyes rolled back as they convulsed and spasmed on the ground. It looked as though something was BURROWING into their brains, something quite painful. But Tommy couldn’t bring himself to care. Or fear. Or panic. He wanted to, but there was a strange feeling of calm that hovered over him. As though everything was NORMAL.

And then, he felt it. The wriggle into his head. The all-familiar pop in his brain. But the bubble was stronger, heavier. A gentle knock became a full-force, bodily slam into his mind. And Tommy’s body jolted without him expecting it. His eyes bulged, his throat felt swollen, and he tried to grasp at his sudden lack of air. As his eyes began to roll back into his head, the slim man could feel something taking over. His vision began to fade to black when the BREED needed to SPREAD infection swarmed inside his HOST's head. And that was all that was left. All he was good for.

BREED.

SPREAD.

INFECT.

HOST.

VESSELS.

SEEK.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

When it came to, there were restraints pinning it down to the large mattress in the master bedroom. Searching through its memories, it recognized the room as Chuck’s. A name of importance. Relation. A father of sorts, but not for it. Taking in the sights carefully, it took a few moments for the eyes to adjust. There was so much to take in. The scents. The smells. The bright lights. And sensitivity along its fleshy skin.

Glancing up, there were six figures surrounding it, all undressed and displaying their own fleshy suits for it to admire. The sight was a welcome one, with the psychic presence and hive mind connecting them all. It wasn’t sure what expression lingered on its face, but it was clear from the position of the restraints that its fellow kin had hoisted its legs up in the air, exposing this body’s bare behind. The naked bodies highlighted each of their new hosts’ muscles, and it was clear that they had plenty of time to explore and enjoy their bodies. Each of them was stroking and pulling at their hefty cocks, a visual and noticeable fleshy organ that indicated attraction and arousal to each other. It took in each of their lustful expressions as they gazed upon its hole, and it drew names to faces from the memories.

Chuck. Frank. Adrian. Garrett. Lukas. Milo. Each and every one of them had been the source of torment for its vessel’s body. But now, they responded to it. Bowed to it. Worshipped it. Him. HIM.

TOMMY.

That was his name now. He was Tommy. He had always been Tommy. But now, someone new was in charge. And, with each of his spawn burrowed deep inside their minds, Tommy was the one they felt drawn to. Called to. He was meant to breed with them. To foster more offspring so they could spread. Infect. Overtake, until it was all under his control.

His normally slender and timid face shifted into something far more vicious and sinister. Curling and uncurling his new fingers, Tommy carefully spread his bound legs apart even wider, arching his back to entice his followers closer. There was very little that had to be said between them for Tommy to get what he wanted. And the moment he felt Adrian pushing deep into him, the creature practically mewled with delight at the thick, full feeling. Having these fleshy bodies was absolute perfection.

And as the crackle of fireworks began to spark in the night sky, the streaming lights filtered in from the window, illuminating the writhing mass of muscles, sweat, and beefiness. Tommy’s mind filled with pleasure and ecstasy as he was bred thoroughly by each of the men eager to lay their loads deep inside of him. This was perhaps the bonding he had been hoping for all this time. What he had desired. What he had craved.

He wanted it all.

And he wanted more.

I was dating a body hopper. He made me feel like a prince. Except that my father is controlling of everything that I do. Ever since supernaturals came out of the closet, everyone has been against associating with them.

But not me. I love my Haven. He didn't choose it like some hoppers, he was a natural born body hopper. I keep telling Haven about my family drama, but doesn't know what to say.

Lately, things are getting worse. I've been doing full body workouts constantly and drinking protein shakes. Sometimes, I blackout and come to with my cum over my chest. But I never intended to do those things, well, not at that level anyway. I'm getting worried.

I begged Haven to hop into my body for 1 day. To see what's happening. He reluctantly agreed, hopping inside the night before.

Things didn't get weird until 5 am. Haven sensed another trying to breach his boyfriend's body and cast spells. We stood up and searched around. We found my father trying to use dark magic from a old book.

His eyes opened with anger. And started screaming, "Haven needs to leave my son's body." But we questioned him about the illegal magic texts... and he tried to change subjects.

He panicked and immediately started casting a body switch spell.

I felt fear and froze. But Haven rushed him in the driving seat of my body. But the spell completed as he hopped into him.

"No no no, why am I in my father's body? Someone help me." But haven was here. And looked back at my body, and it said, "Sorry son, but your hopper boyfriend almost ruined my plans. Every generation. I take my son's body. It's a tradition of my immortality. I'm the new Charlie."

My stolen body bolted out the door. We chased, but Haven was pushing this body to its limits. He chose to return to his own body back at home.

He called my phone that was still in my room. And we tracked the smart watch I was wearing using an app. But it was thrown into a dumpster near a gay bar. We found him getting made out with by everyone in that bar. Massaging my bubble butt, my muscular chest, and eye fucking me on the spot. Even my dick was leaking precum as evident by the appearance of my pants.

Haven took over my rightful body and told everyone to fuck off. "The thief is scared shirtless, Charlie!" And we went back to the house and swapped me back into my body after taking an hour to find the right spell.

He accidentally grew my dick by saying some spells wrong, the extra size probably came from sources nearby... oh wait... well my father could do with less inches.

"I'm back. I'm finally back! Haven, let's call the Bureau of Magical investigation and have him arrested."

It was found that he inhabited and stole over 15 generations of his sons. He claimed he wasn't my father. If so, it means he escaped into a new body.

Haven looks after me, "if he comes for you, he'll have to go through me."

"That's what I'm scared of, your power would be perfect for him. If he finds a way to steal your power, yours or even my body will be his..."

Haven laughed, "OH, isn't this just rich Charlie? I already did that, but hoppers have a latent skill to harness host memories. And I'm not your father. I'm your ancestor, so we're not any more related than the cashier at the local store. "

"Get away from me-" I was cut off from speaking when he touched my arm, and became me. Leaving Haven powerless to help. He tried to run away to ask family for help. But used puppeteer spell work on him.

He spoken seductively to me in the bathroom mirror, "You were born to be my host body. Always were. Never even had sex with a woman either. Magic is very useful. Grew you like a plant in minutes with 2 sets of cum buckets. Then you grew up. And I'm fucking perfect. Thank you for that." as he kissed my fingers and touched my reflection.

I was stuck as a spectator as my body went on countless hookups, dates, and used my boyfriend Haven for sex, and as a rental body for other men to inhabit. They always love to show off Haven's abs.

This couldn't possibly get any worse.

Oh fuck no, not that guy again, his dick is too big. 7 inches girth is too much. My voice, "Give it to me harder, I can take the pain!"

Somebody help.

"Oh come on baby... I know you want me inside your bro..." The demon, Asmodeus, says seductively to me as I keep looking at him and looking down at my bro on the ground, dead.

A few hours earlier...

I had accidentally summoned Asmodeus through a spellbook I had found in the bookstore.

I thought it was a joke and jokingly read the incantation out loud, summoning Asmodeus.

"Hello human... is it you that has summoned me?"

I stood there, frozen in shock at the demon standing before me. He was shirtless, showing off his huge muscles and wearing leather pants. His leather pants showed off his thighs, and not gonna lie it gave me an instant hard on.

Seeing this the demon chuckled. "Well then, looks like I can grant you your deepest desires."

The demon then approached me seductively, saying, "I can hear your thoughts and looks like you have the hots for your dear stepbro, even though you 100% know he is straight and he hates you for being gay. Well then... why don't I do something about it hehe.."

The demon turned invisible, making himself visible only to me and gestured for me to follow him. He flew into Joan's room and we both saw him taking selfies naked in front of the mirror.

When he saw me, he answered angrily. "What the fuck do you want, fag?" Hearing this, the demon made himself visible again and lunged towards him.

"Mmm.. this dirty mouth of yours is gonna be of use once I...TAKE OVER!" Asmodeus then grabbed Joan by his neck and snapped it, killing Joan. Then Asmodeus put his tongue in Joan's mouth, sucking out his life force so that he can eat it, leaving the body vacant.

In the present...

Asmodeus laid him down on the bathroom floor which fit all three of us due to Joan's bathroom being the biggest.

"Fine, you caught me... I like him. You can have him. "Eventually, I succumbed to my desires and Asmodeus let out an evil laugh. He then turned to smoke and entered Joan's mouth.

Seeing this play out, I got a major hard-on as I saw Jaon's body arch its back and his muscles bulged as the demon made its way through the body.

Eventually the body stopped convulsing and slowly stood up. But instead of his eyes being the usual brown colour it turned black before returning to normal.

"Damn.. this is one hot body!" The demon now inside Joan exclaims as he begins flexing his new muscles and pinching them.

Seeing him all shirtless in his underwear gave me a hard on and I came in my underwear. Suddenly he snapped his fingers and I saw a duplicate of him standing in the center.

"You know... I found you admiring my chiseled body... why don't I give you my old body? I mean, once you're inside my old body, every part of your existence will fade and no one will remember you."

I didn't hesitate to take the offer and he turned me into smoke and threw me into his body. I can feel myself invading every part of this new body and all the sensations as the pleasure keeps building up.

Eventually I was in full control and I felt all the muscles I now have.

Suddenly, I felt multiple hands come pull me into the ground. "W-What the?! What the fuck is happening?!" "Oops hehe"

"Did I forget to mention? I'm wanted for murder after killing my dad, aka the demon king. And now... you've taken my place hehe.."

I tried holding to something, anything, but the pull was so powerful that I got grabbed into the depths of hell. "NOOOO! PLEASE I'M NOT ASMO-"

I am perplexed. This.....this can't be real. How the fuck all of this happened? Why the fuck am I sucking my own dick?

I try to hurt the motherfucker by biting on this replica of my dick he deepthroated into my mouth, but somehow I just cannot bring myself to do it and instead sucking it even harder

"Yeah, feels good to keep sucking it huh, you drunk bastard?"

This impostor keeps pounding me relentlessly and I can feel like I'm losing my consciousness once more as this wet, musty dick almost block all my respiratory process. Work brain, please work, what happened last night? And....why the fuck do I feel so small? What the fuck is this blonde bangs in front of my eyes? AND WHY THE FUCK I'M ENJOYING THIS?

"Told ya I have a gig quite early the next day when you stumbled across me and my friends last night at the club but you fucked me till God knows when and now here we are, 11 fucking AM and my agent already told me to just fuck off for screwing up that gig. Now, I guess this is the decent payback for making me lost a gig. Gonna fuck you till you blackout,"

When Tyler had asked me to meet him in the university’s gym over the weekend I was a bit confused. He’d told me he was spending the weekend visiting family out of town the day before and he wasn’t due back till Monday. 

So when I saw this handsome guy with perfect stubble, slicked back hair, and deep brown eyes  spinning a basketball on his fingers and looking my way, I didn’t know what to think.

“Leo! Glad you can make it!” the stranger said in a low sensual voice. It had the same deep tones that make you just shiver. 

“Um… I’m supposed to be meeting a friend around here. I don’t suppose you’ve seen a guy a little shorter than me with really dark hair and pale skin?” I ask doing my best not to stare this titan of masculinity in the face.

This guy drops the ball and says. “Dude, Leo it’s me. I know I may not look like Tyler anymore but… well so remember how I said my grandparents were really into spiritualism and stuff? Well turns out they could teach me how to astral project my soul into another person’s body!” 

I stood stunned not knowing how to respond. 

“I know it may be hard to believe but this is so cool! I know how to play basketball now. Plus it’s so cool seeing the world from this height. who knew 8 inches made the world seem so different. And… you’re staring at me funny… are you-”

Without another word I approached Tyler and began feeling up this new body of his. I had to look up to even catch his gaze again. Not that I wanted to. Not when there was so much of this new body to explore…. to touch. 

“Woah didn’t think you’d be buying my story so fast. But it’s pretty cool isn’t it? I grabbed this guy after he finished practicing at the gym. I’ve got all his skills and memories too! It’s wild. And… wow that feels good. Your hands on my arms… on my chest and… I…I… thought I was gonna have to explain how this works or something…. but wow I can’t believe…. woah… you really know what you’re doing.” Tyler said beginning to moan.

My light touches and subtle strokes of his body caused him to continually back up into the bleachers. “I… wow. Sorry. I’m genuinely so curious but I can’t take my eyes let alone my hands off you…” I said almost dazed by this beautiful man before me.

“Let’s… head back to our apartment… I don’t know how long this possession will last but I think you and me both are thinking we can do something pretty quick.” Tyler said with a cocky smirk.

For the most part I actually just wanted to have him like his buddy aswell but I really was fascinated by his behavious, besides that amazing shapes of cause.

Reza was laying on a pool plushie in Bali, taking a drink and relaxing while looking around his surroundings.

"Shouldn't have fucking killed me just for being a disappointment to you and your fucking condescending bitch ass, Dad... now I'm living your life while you're gone..." Reza says while fondling his nipples and his boyfriend walks in.

---

Three months earlier...

This is Zack. He's a college student who majors in Public Relations and is a popular student.

But behind closed doors, his home life is a wreck and it's all because of his dad, Reza. He might look kind in the picture, but in real life he was an abusive jackass of a dad who always beat Nate up cause he thinks Nate is a disappointment.

One day, Nate found a tome filled with forbidden spells inside the campus library and took it home. When he looked through it, intrigued by the spells inside it, he came across a spell of astral projecting, where someone leaves their phiscal body and can travel anywhere.

Reading this, he remembers that there are movies of people doing this and they can possess anyone, so he decides to finally get revenge on his Dad and waited for the right time.

After another round of getting beat up by Reza on that night, Billy had his mind set on doing the ritual and so he got some candles he found at home and put it in a circle.

He then sat in the middle and did the incantation word for word while his mind filled with rage over all the abuse he got from his own dad who was supposed to love him and instead chose to abuse him.

A few moments later he could feel himself getting detached from his physical form and found himself floating, half naked.

"Damn, it actually worked!" He says as he floats around the room, excited at seeing himself as a spirit.

"Now then... time for revenge!"

He looked around the house and found his dad cleaning himself up after a shower.

"Should have fucking beaten him to a pulp..." Reza mumbled to himself.

Hearing this, Billy, unseen to Reza, hardened his resolve for revenge and puts his whole left arm into Reza's.

Doing so caused Reza to feel a cold sensation and gasped. "W- what the fuck? Why's it so cold all of a sudden?"

Suddenly Reza hears a voice, "Hi dad... since you think I'm a fucking disappointment... why don't you just... disappear?!"

"Fuck! B-Billy?! Please, son, please!!" Billy, not giving a damn what Reza says, puts in his bulging spirit cock into Reza's ass, and Reza moans.

"F-f-fuck! Please, Billy-" Reza can't find the words as the penetration is too much for him to handle.

"Aw, I thought you can handle this, daddy-o, since you have all the fucking muscles and used them to beat your own son," Billy said mockingly as he laughed at his dad's growing erection.

Once it was just Billy's head left, his dad kept begging, whimpering, "p-please son, forgive me.."

"Woww, all that time I asked you to forgive me, you didn't and now you want me to forive you? Fuck you," was Billy's words before he put his head in and merged with his Dad's, and Reza fell to the floor.

After what felt like a half hour or maybe more, Reza woke up, but now it's Billy in control.

"Mmm finally..." Billy/Reza growled in pleasure. "Your body's MINE!"

He then flexed his new arms in front of the bathroom mirror. "Damn... I'm so fucking hot!" He proceeded to pinch his new nipples andflicking it, causing the already growing erection to shoot out a lot cum.

In his head, he could hear his dead whimpering, begging Billy for forgiveness, but he didn't give a damn.

Billy then remembered a spell he came across and went back to the tome. The spell is to throw out the soul out of the body. This gave him an evil grin.

He then read the incantation and immediately he felt the soul of his Dad going up his throat and his dad's spirit goes out through his mouth.

"W-what are you gonna do to me?!" He tries to go back in but it seems that the spell also locks the previous owner out of his body.

"Well dad.." Billy says, while looking at the spell on soul obliteration. "I'm now you and now..."

He snaps his fingers and the real Reza's soul is obliterated, causing him to cease to exist.

"NOOOO!" was Reza's last words. Then Billy went over to his old body and destroyed it with a spell.

"Now then... where were we?" Billy, now Reza, says as he pulls off his pants to look at his new dick but jot before taking a selfie to commemorate the moment of his new life.

--- In the present...

Billy, now Reza, has been living a new life ever since. He discovered when he destroyed his old body, his previous identity ceased to exist, as no one can remember Reza ever having a son so he was pretty sad but also happy at the new lease on life.

He has even went to join a competition and won! And now, he'd get ion dating apps and hookup with a lot of guys., even hooking up with some of his fellow competitors.