💋

Oops... sorry about this. I'm sure it's all rather shocking right now...

Your boyfriend here, he's an ex of mine. And I like to have some fun with my men by giving them some... triggers. So when you saw your geeky boyfriend put on the cap and jokingly said, "Now turn it around!"—well that activated one of those past prompts.

And this? This is what he looks like a little over halfway through the change. He's gonna be even dumber, bigger, and hornier than he is now—nothing like the the charming beanpole you're used to. The transformation is rather radical, but looking at your reaction I'm not sure you object.

Kris was simply in a bad mood when he told the woman at the club to fuck off. Well, to be honest, he said more than that: he called her a fucking bitch, and then told her to fuck off. Her eyes seemed to flash red with rage, jabbing him in his bony twink chest with a manicured finger, speaking with passion and disdain. "Boy, if you're gonna talk to women like that with that mouth, the least you can do is make her cum with it." The obviously gay guy blushed and then turned beet red in confusion and embarrassment. Something about the adrenaline of the moment even made his dick chub up a bit, or so he told himself.

He shook his head, stumbling back a few steps, ignoring the tingling feeling running across the flesh of his lips. He excused himself, leaving the woman to her anger and rushing outside where he quickly called a cab to come pick him up and save him from the awkwardness. Not only had his boyfriend stood him up, but he went and made an asshole of himself in front of some chick who totally thought he was a douche now. He knew better than to call her a bitch! He loved women, all his friends were girls, he was gay for crying out loud. He just wanted to take his frustration out on someone.

To do that on a black woman in a gay club… Wow. Awful judgment call, Kris. Good going.

He makes it to his home, rushes inside and slams the door behind him. Rubbing his face, he lets out a sigh and wastes no time making his way to his bedroom, where he flings himself on the bed and starts to fall asleep. Tomorrow will be better, he thinks, sleepily, still chubbed up and grinding lightly against the sheets below him. They feel so warm… so soft… so inviting. His eyelids are fluttering closed before realizing his lips are parting, tongue swirling out of his mouth, ready to have a french kiss makeout session with his pillow.

When he finally wakes up hours later, he's face first in a pile of drool, and as he tries to sit up, it feels as if someone has tied two massive bricks to his chest.

Kris groaned as he managed to roll over, panting for breath as it seemed to take all his energy to heave his chest up and down. His bulge felt so swollen and uncomfortably tight in his sleep shorts, like every movement was causing skin to rub against skin, chafing. He glanced down with a bleary blink, and then he gasped in shock and a little in fear. "FUCK!" booming out of his still wet and slobbery mouth was a low, husky bovine drawl, a bro's voice, and attached to his once pale, flat chest were now two thick slabs of bouncing, dark brown pec meat. Popping in place. Seeing how huge his chest was made him also notice how massive his shoulders were, how wide he was, how even though he couldn't see over his rock hard set of tits, he could feel his much fatter toes wriggling so much further down than he remembered them being. He forced himself to get off the bed, rising to his feet.

He could feel the vibration of his newly plumped up ass jiggling just behind him, and it took all his effort again to glance over his thick as fuck shoulder. With a wide look of panic, he could still see the massive jock globes shaking inside the tight prison of his mesh shorts. And the smell wafting up from the sweaty damp crack… whew! He glanced at his huge black hands, reached them upwards to feel the contours of his face, realizing very quickly that everything about him had been replaced. Not just his body. He could feel a much wider, sharper jaw. His brow felt furrowed, thicker, his nose large and his lips still slick and kissable and jutting out from his face. He pressed a finger into his fat, muscled up pec, noticing the stretch marks to the sides of his torso, from the sheer hulking size of him. He began to sweat, feeling that same sticky heat flare up beneath his armpits where black curls spiraled out, wafting the scent further across his bedroom.

He was so much taller, so much bigger, and as he stared at the black hunk he had become, he thought of the girl from the bar.

He remembered her eyes flashing red, the words she said to him, and his heart began to race and make him pump out even more sweat.

And then, so strangely, his dick began to get hard. He was just thinking about the girl he was an asshole to, and then suddenly he was remembering more about her than he noticed the first time, how she was wearing that cute peach top. How it hugged her curves, gave her tits an extra oomph, how those bouncing juicy breasts had been swaying up and down and jiggling ever so slightly the whole time they had been speaking. His newly massive cock lurched, radiating lust, and he moaned a low and desperate sound. The shaft throbbed against his tight boxers, his sleep shorts reforming into douchey sweaty workout pants loosely tied around his narrow waist, abs rippling on display.

Why was he feeling this way? He was as gay as any other twink in the state, he was frightened and confused to suddenly be a massive black dude with a hard on for some female stranger he demeaned last night, but he couldn't stop his brain from wanting to literally demean her further. He pressed his calloused hands on either side of his head, blinking back tears as he felt the distinct wiry curls of his new hair, his entire race had been changed against his will.

The whole time he stood there and stressed, he couldn't control his pecs and make them stop bouncing. Up, down, up and then down, POP POP POP.

And his ass kept swaying and jiggling and moving like a big chunk of jello behind him. He reached a hand back to rest against it, feeling the squish of the soft meat beneath his fingers. Against his will and giving in to his curiosity, his still hard cock directing him to tighten his body, to flex his biceps and get a look at just how truly sculpted he had become. As he flexed and then clenched his ass cheeks, his body moved on its own accord, giving his booty an extra playful shake to really make it bounce up and down. Like it had done this before.

But as he did so, he could feel his newly tight, puckered hole inch open just enough for a hot puff of protein reeking air to hiss out of his ass. PRFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT!

A whiny voice echoed in his mind, wailing, begging to be forgiven, for the curse to be lifted, but Christian felt like he was in heaven. Nothing mattered more to the man than getting women off. Being covered in the juices of the female sex. Hearing them moan, feeling them vibrate, bounce, shake. Nah… he was a fucking breeder. An alpha. A real gentleman.

And after he finished swallowing down all her pussy juice, he'd be having her bounce up and down on his ready to burst python in no time. He'd be sure to leave a mini me baking in her womb as a thank you for her service.

Fuckkkk! He sure loved WOMEN.

Marcus was really regretting his wish. All he wanted to do was spend time with the hot guys in the Frat House down the street, but he never meant that he wanted to spend time with them as a brother of the house. He wanted to be sucking on their cocks, sniffing their hot swampy armpits, not trapped inside a meaty sweat covered body without any ability to control it. He hated the version of himself he was now, his big thick hand scratching at his ass crack and pits, sniffing his rank stench. He felt so gross and stupid, lounging around in sweat pants, laughing at the dumb misogynistic jokes, flexing when given the cue.

He kept waiting for something fun and gay to happen, for all the hot guys to start kissing, or for someone to play pop music to relax to, but the best he got was kisses on the cheek and bros slapping his cock with a callused palm, muttering “no homo, brah!” Rap music was blaring, causing him to scream inside his head, but the vessel he was inside just nodded along and tapped his big stinky foot. “This shit is tight,” he drawled, at the same time his hand pawed at his fat package.

One of the frat boys he had the biggest crush on came and sat beside him, throwing a muscled arm over his shoulder, his slick armpit hairs touching his skin. His thick cock remained deflated, up until the bro shoved his cheap scratched up phone in his face, laughing. “Fuckkk Mark, look at these mommy milkers,” he said, showing off a GIF of some big boobed porn star squeezing her fleshy tits together. Instantly, Mark as he was now affectionately called, could feel all the blood rushing to his cock, a low groan leaving his open mouth, the stank of morning breath blowing out, but his bro didn’t care. He reached his big meaty hand into his sweats, at the same time his bro was doing the same thing. “Fuck brah, let me pull us up something good,” the dude said, using his sweaty pube covered fingers to quickly bring up a porn video, lesbians scissoring to be exact.

Their slick pussies sliding against each other, their titties bouncing. Mark couldn’t help it, even if a tiny gay voice was screaming in his head, begging him to remember that he was a gay boy who wanted to be fucked by frat boys, not be one. Mark was only hyper focused on the swaying tits and squirting pussies on the phone screen, he didn’t even glance over at his bro jacking his cock because that would be gay. No one in this frat was a queer. Least of all him.

Once he busted his load to the moaning MILFs, he didn’t even clean up, he just shoved his thick cock into his sweats and stretched out, shoving his bro away as he squeezed out a hot protein fart. Everyone laughed, breathing in the hot fetid stench, loving the sense of brotherhood in the house.

Everyone except for the old Marcus, that is. But this is the prime of Mark’s frat boy breeder life.

Thanks for the Warm Response! Here's a shorter piece - Occam

It’s definitely not normal that they invited me to this party. It was a direct invite too, obviously. I wouldn’t show up unless someone explicitly asked. From what I understand frat parties don’t usually have a guest list, but I am not one to just wander in. 

Judging by how unpleasant this is so far I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have accepted Derek’s invitation at all. I start to look around for the nearest exits which is when Derek finally shows his face, approaching me with two drinks in hand.

“Sup bruh! I’m so stoked you could make it! This party is gonna be absolutely killer soon so I hope you can stick around!”

“Ah, well I was-”

“I brought you a little drink broski! I know shit like this isn’t your cup of tea so I figured you’d take the assist, this stuff’ll loosen you right up.”

I take the cup from him and just avoid wretching from fumes of alcohol coming from the cup now in my hand. I assumed it was just a beer but it looks like some horrible mixed drink.

“It’s Everclear and Hawaiian Punch bro! As soon as you get past the first taste you barely notice the burn!”

He continues to stand there as I fail to brainstorm a way out of at least trying this. I see a potted plant across the room and know my next move. I’ll give the drink one chance to get Derek off my back and dump it as soon as he turns his.

It’s honestly not as bad as I thought it would be, it doesn’t even seem alcoholic actually? It’s just sweet? Almost to a sickly degree. I don’t really taste the punch either, it's just… 

I start to take another sip before noticing that impossibly, my cup is already empty. I only took a sip though? Something, something is not right. I start to freeze up before Derek starts shaking me, his hand holding a second cup of the punch high above his head shouting, “Brooo! You just demolished that! Fuck! I’ve gotta see that again!” He shoves the second cup into my hand and begins to push his way back towards the punch bowl “Everyone outta the way! This nerd has got to have more to drink!”

I watch him longer than I should have, dumbfounded holding this drink that I didn’t want. Don’t want? My vision gets blurry as I watch him maneuver his massive body through the crowd. Woah, I guess this is what alcohol does? I feel myself start to grin watching him struggle to fill a two-liter with whatever that punch is. Jungle juice? Oh Shit? Is he bringing that to me? 

The DJ switches playlists and I feel excitement quickly start to build in my chest. I fuckin’ love this song! I start to inch towards the crowd before I’m elbowed in the face and my glasses fall directly into my cup.

“Hey dude! I need those to fuc- I need those to see” I instinctively shout as I look to see my glasses just peeking out of my cup. Before picking them out though, I notice that my vision is actually better now? Which briefly starts to set my veins afire once more, why have I been going to a fucking optometrist for years I start to think, clenching my jaw before I look closer into my cup.

This alcohol must really be getting to me or Derek is pulling another prank on me or something. My hair looks so stupid up like that. I start to move my hand to fix it before seeing my arm reflected. 

Or is that even my arm? It shouldn’t be? It’s the size of my head. I shouldn't be able to life something that size if I wanted to. I need to get some fresh air, or just some quiet space. I need to get out. I need-

“Party king coming through! Sorry bro I couldn’t get the bottle to fuckin work so I hope two more cups will do” I see two cups clenched in massive hairy, may as well be, paws starting to pass back through the dance floor. My own hand flexes and I drop my drink, spilling it all over my shoes as I bolt to find a bathroom. Cheers of “Party Foul” ring out as I dash, completely ditching my glasses without a second thought.

I weasel my way through the crowd feeling less agile than usual. Finding it much easier to shove these pipsqueaks out of the way than to squeeze between them before I find peace in the second floor restroom, miraculously without a line outside. I don’t question why I suddenly know the layout of this house as I slam the door and take a deep breath. Music still comes through the door as I reach for the light and prepare to look in the mirror.

The haircut was the least of my concerns. I look like a beast as I start to hyperventilate. I feel the music outside the room quicken matching my heartbeat, my newly 20/20 eyes stare into themselves as they turn from blue to a deep brown and visibly lose acuity. I feel my biceps pressing against the sleeves of my t-shirt narrowly avoiding a deliberate flex to rip the shirt apart. 

I notice a stink other than jungle juice coming up from my feet as I feel them beginning to push against the tongue of my shoe. I collapse to the floor and quickly struggle to untie my laces before squeezing my feet out. Immediately apparent are drastically rattier socks than I remember putting on to get ready for this party. Full of holes and stains, I dread knowing whose socks these are and what is happening before recognizing them as my own. Or really they could be any of my bros socks but who cares.

As soon as this thought pushes its way into my head a pit drops into my stomach. I am an only child, I don’t have any bros, or well, I have a house full of bros now right? Getting up off the floor I again glance into the mirror. My jaw is wider, my stubble itches but just like it always does, right? I put my face in my hands creating enough strain in my small shirt to force a tear down the back. Why am I wearing such tiny tiny clothes anyway? Must be Derek hazing me again huh. I think holding in a guffaw, I wonder how he got me in these?

I tear the rest of my shirt away before doing the same to my pants which is when I learn that I have apparently been going commando this whole time. Now free of these nerdy-ass clothes I flex in the mirror. Pecs popping like always, my bros always say the hair hides my pump but who cares bro I want to look like a man. I briefly shake my cock at myself in the mirror smirking and see laid out behind me are a change of clothes that Derek must have laid out for me. 

There are a pair of slides, some athletic shorts and a massive stringer that says “Party Prince” Bro! He must have made us matching shirts! 

I quickly start to change to match with my Bro and see cologne on the counter. I’m sure bro won't mind if I use it. Each spritz I feel myself fill out my tank even more, veins beginning to peak out down my arms and my package becomes even harder to miss in my shorts. I do a few more poses in the mirror before hearing a knock at the bathroom door.

“Bro you in there? The party’s dying without you bro!”

- "Come here."

I heard those two words and turned around. Henry was there, lying on the couch wearing just his underwear. He was smiling at me with his head held up by his arm. He had firm muscles, velvety skin, thick hair on his chest and face, seductive eyes. I felt at peace, joy grew in my body instant by instant. Then, in the blink of an eye, I would return to reality. My wife was on the couch looking at me with concern. She would ask me why I had that blank look on my face, and I would lie and say I was just tired. I would not have been able to explain to her what had been happening to me over the past few days.

I had seen Henry again in a café a couple of weeks before, in passing. I hadn't had time to greet him properly; he was holding two coffees to go. Just enough time for a "how's it going, bud?", saying that we hadn't seen each other in a long time and that we should definitely get together for a catchup, for old times' sake, maybe at the usual pub down the street. Then he had disappeared, and I was stunned. Henry was still a handsome man, of course the years had passed for him too, but he still had a muscular physique, I could tell he was still keeping in shape. I was suddenly reminded of when he stood shirtless on the couch, his arms raised to show me his muscles and armpits, his smell penetrating and masculine, his eyes intense and magnetic, as he waited for me to kiss him on… what? I didn't know what had come over me, a strange thought had crossed my mind, as if Henry and I had been…something more than friends. Nah, a trick of the mind, for sure.

He and I had been roommates a decade earlier, two guys just out of college trying to make their way in the world of adults. At first I wasn't very convinced, in fact, I almost disliked him, but as the months went by we became really good friends. We shared several interests, from the gym to video games, we often ended our evenings challenging each other in front of the TV or out having a beer at the pub together with other friends from that era. We had no worries, we knew we had a bright future ahead of us. The only strange fact for me was that while I was slipping from one girl to another during that period, he never talked about women. I never knew his orientation; he was a very private guy. Of course, looking back, I remembered the way he would come out of the shower with just a towel on, the seductive look on his face. I used to wait for him outside the bathroom, anticipating the sight of his body soaked with drops of water, waiting for the moment when he would undress and join me ready for… again? What was wrong with me?

This strange feeling that had begun since I had seen him again continued over the next few days, happening at the strangest and least appropriate times. Nostalgia for the times when we lived together mixed with the presence of these unreal images, fantasies so vivid they almost seemed like memories. It happened at breakfast, as my wife was pouring coffee in front of me and I looked at her smiling, happy to have her by my side, that Henry suddenly appeared in my mind. He was sitting on the table in our old house, in his underwear, a smile on his face, his hairy, muscled pecs in plain sight. I could feel a deep arousal kindling in my lower belly, I could feel my penis hardening in my underwear. In an instant I was on him, my tongue lost in his mouth ready to take me in, our chests brushing against each other as I laid him down on the table and removed his underpants to… I chased the thought away by shaking my head and returned to reality, to my wife and our breakfast. I had never been interested in men, I considered myself a totally straight man…maybe something was changing? No, absolutely not, it couldn't be.

It used to happen even when I would get into playing video games, the only hobby I had left over the years in my spare time, the only escape from the work that forced me into hellish schedules. There I was, joystick in hand and a few heads to be blown off the TV when memories of evenings spent challenging each other with Henry resurfaced in my mind. We used to stand in our underwear on the couch, side by side, in full competition. I often lost because damn, Henry was really good. My penance was always the same one, if I could call it that way. In fact I have to admit that sometimes I used to lose on purpose. All I had to do was get down on my knees in front of him, pull down his boxers and take his massive cock in my mouth while he continued to play. Occasionally he would look at me with dominating but satisfied eyes as I used my hands and mouth to pleasure him, moaning with satisfaction... then the thought would fade and I would feel sleazy, disgusted by what had gone through my mind, I had to go drink to get that imaginary taste off my lips. At that point I would give up video games and get on with something else, trying to forget.

Day after day it was getting more and more complicated to stay focused, even in the most trivial activities. In some moments I would just look down at my feet and sink into another vision. I would find myself in my underwear, my cock rock hard, as I watched Henry kneeling in front of me. He was saying he loved my penis so much and couldn't wait to swallow it all, and inside I felt immense gratification. When I finally penetrated his mouth, I let out guttural, animalistic sounds, no longer recognizing myself, my hand on Henry's head pushing him harder and harder. Finally my cock erupted in his mouth, I could feel his throat swallowing my cum with satisfaction. When he was done, he would pull off my penis, a white stream of jeez on his lips, and smile in delight... then, after a moment, it was all gone, my eyes staring at the floor. My cock between my legs was marble-like, my breathing heavy, my mind increasingly unable to distinguish dream from reality.

The most problematic moment, however, was when I was having sex with my wife. As I undressed her, as I satisfied her, as we were joined in amplexus, Henry would enter my mind leaving me fearful…but also extremely aroused. I remembered, hoping they were just fantasies, when he would stand in front of me in his underwear in front of our -- wasn't it just my? -- bed, and I had to be obedient and watch him from below, admire him because he was so beautiful, a magnificent and sexy stud. Our naked bodies joined over the sheets, our hard, wet cocks brushing against each other causing intense shivers of pleasure. I felt I wanted him so badly, I would sling myself over his penis and let him penetrate me like a little slut. He would look at me excitedly, dominating me with his thoughts, making me feel like I was only his. Then he would explode inside me... and I would come back to reality, ending the intercourse with my wife, extremely aroused by what I had just seen in my mind.

The whole situation was somewhat disorienting. To find myself face to face with Henry in my memories-like fantasies was disarming. But stronger than anything had become my desire to see him. So it was that I decided to write to him one morning, just before breakfast. - "Hi Henry, sup? Hope this is still your phone. Just wanna ask to meet up, for old times' sake, if you like. Maybe at the old place? Let me know bro."

The answer was not long in coming and surprised me as I was getting dressed to leave. It was only two words, but they were enough. My mind started to remember everything. - "Come here."

In an instant I was crossed by a wave of heat, something moved inside me. All the months spent with Henry reappeared in my head, no longer as dreams or fantasies…but as real memories. I remembered everything, finally. Ten years earlier, with Henry, we were not just roommates, we were lovers. I knew how it had started, when he had shown me that video on TV. Before that moment I found him insufferable, arrogant, I still don't know how he convinced me to watch that spiral on the screen…but it was a blessing. How I had loved him, Henry. The first kisses, the first fucks, our established routine of lovemaking and hobbies. Him asking me to pretend we were just friends outside our apartment and me indulging him, almost unaware of what was going on between us, only to be turned on again as soon as we got home. I remembered everything about him, every inch of his skin, the glint in his eyes, every hair of his beard, his chest, his saliva, his muscles, his firm ass, his huge cock. It had all been mine, his smell, his taste. I also remembered how it had ended, just a job transfer, a promise to see each other again, and then, perhaps, a spell broken. But not entirely, it seemed. Because more than anything else I remembered one key detail. Henry was not merely my lover. Henry was my Master. - "On my way, Master."

Henry immediately sent me his new address. I left my house quickly, without even saying goodbye to my wife. As I moved quickly to reach my Master as soon as possible, my head emptied of all thoughts and worries. It was never over, I thought, I had always been ready to return to him. Henry would be there, as I liked to remember him, lying on the couch in his underwear waiting for me, ready to begin again the life I had forgotten all this time.

By: bodilychanges

Mike took a breath, shaking himself of any final anxious thoughts and assuring himself of his imminent success. He brushed a speck of white lint off the sleeve of his jet black, Calvin Klein suit whilst awaiting his name to be called. His aura of confidence was palpable to the other people in the waiting room; Mike knew that he was far better, not just for the job but also in general, than any of the people sitting around him. His resume was flawless, an early graduate of Stanford University, the top of his class in every course, with a major in economics and a minor in communications, he was an upcoming prodigy of the business world.

Mike believed himself to be only worthy of the best, applying for an accounting position in only the top corporations on the market. Thanks to his parent’s connection with the CEO, he was able to procure a spot for a personal interview only offered to a few applicants. It was only 7 a.m. but he was about to get his dream job at the TG&TF Corporation Headquarters. It was a renowned corporation throughout the world, owning and investing in more companies and start-ups you could probably count on your fingers, TG&TF Corp. is an economic powerhouse that has dominated the market since it was established. Even though it’s run into a few scandals here and there, lawsuits from low-class families (that can afford to sue) claiming their loved ones had disappeared, no one has batted an eye. Mike scoffed even at the thought, who gave a damn about the scum of society? Less of his tax, which he didn’t even pay, going towards the homeless and drug-addicts; it was a good thing. Being born and raised in southern California, he had grown to resent anyone unlike him. The poor were disgusting and dirty and his faith in Christ taught him to despise those against the bible like gays. Above all, he despised illegal immigrants who leeched off people’s hard work and did nothing for his country.

Suddenly, the door to his right opened and a busty woman in a tight black dress walked out with an iPad in hand. A man briskly followed behind her, pure anger in his red eyes and muttering something under his breath. In a tantrum, he stomped out of the room and slammed the door behind him. Mike caught a few of the words before he left, something about how much of a bitch the boss was and how the interviewee would take his talent somewhere else. Mike smirked, another one bites the dust.

Mike turned back to the secretary, tracing his eyes up and down her accentuated curves. He adjusted his glasses and ruffled his straight, dirty blonde hair. He was the spitting image of a spoiled rich boy, standing at around 5’11 with a lanky build. His face was quite attractive however, piercing blue eyes and a chiseled jawline, usually what drew the girls he slept with and left behind.

As he eyed up the woman, he noticed she glanced at him, almost reciprocating his gaze with an enticing half-smile before she announced, “Mike Chandler?”

With a nonchalant smirk, Mike rose from his seat, placing the magazine he was reading back on the coffee table and strode over to the secretary. “Right this way,” she gestured to the blond 24 year old. Mike walked past her into the connecting hallway, behind him he heard the door close shut and quickened click-clacks on the floor from high heels following behind him.

They walked together throughout the hallway in silence, Mike checking out the young woman’s breasts bouncing up and down in the corner of his eye. After a passing a couple more rooms, they arrived at a final door at the end. “So Mr. Chandler, our CEO’s office is right behind that door where your interview awaits. Word of advice, he likes using trick questions so be careful…” the secretary then brought her hand up to Mike’s arm, gently stroking it before speaking in a sultry voice, “I hope I can see more of you around. Good luck.”

With a wink at that last comment, she left back in the direction they had came. Mike, already having forgotten her warning, felt even more confident in himself. He took a few steps to the office door and knocked twice.

A deep, masculine voice came from the other side, “Come in.”

Mike obeyed, opening the door to his future.

Atop the dark oak desk sat a gold engraved name plate, Walter Hargreaves CEO. Behind the oak desk sat an older caucasian man dressed in a silk black suit, obviously fitted for his body. The man was quite attractive, his muscle was obvious even through his suit sleeve, he was someone into DILFs would have wet dreams about. He had an air of confidence with a hint of ego unmatched. Gelled hair and a clean beard, daunting eyes filled with unmistakable in-control-energy, probably in his early forties. Behind the man was the unbeatable view of LA, glass windows revealing the surrounding skyscrapers and bustling streets below. However, his tie is what stood out the most. It was an average, black tie, but on it was a diamond studded tie-ring that seemed to have a small light blinking on and off.

There was a moment of silence between the two men before the CEO spoke. “Mike Chandler correct? I’m quite familiar with your family. I hope to get to know you just as well.”

Mike smirked and walked across the large room fashioned with various decor such as a clearly expensive satin couch and the grandest platinum flat screen TV he had ever seen. “Thank you sir.”

“Ah don’t mind all those formalities, Walter is fine,” smiled the CEO kindly, hiding a mischievous grin while holding out his hand.

Mike shook his hand firmly and took a seat, a bit more relaxed and feeling as if he was on an equal level to the CEO of the largest corporation in America. “Haha, like Walt Disney,” Mike joked. Walter chuckled and kept up the fake, warm smile. The CEO then glanced at his computer and typed something, which Mike boldly assumed was him either bringing up the interview questions or Mike’s resume.

“As you may know, TG&TF Corp. has around a hundred smaller companies connected to us through an investment system. We give them the money to do whatever business they do and we earn a share of the profit, allowing us to make money here at the foundation without even lifting a finger. Think of it like tree, with TG&TF branching out into many different industries such as food & drink like Coca-cola, high end fashion companies, and even construction & infrastructure. We have our hands in the pocket of practically any company you can think of. So what makes you a great candidate for an accounting position in our corporation?”

After a brief pause Mike began with, “Well for starters I’m an early graduate of Stanford University, top of my class nonetheless-

“No no, I’m not asking for your educational prowess. I’m asking you what about you makes you a good fit,” Mr. Hargreaves interrupted, his tone now a bit more cold.

“My parents-”

“Not asking about your parents either Mike,” the CEO rejected, cutting the younger man off.

Mike was starting to get a bit sweaty, not only confused by the question but frustrated that Mr. Hargreaves wasn’t allowing him to speak.

“If I may Walter-”

Mr. Hargreaves heaved a sighed, “If you have nothing to say about yourself then what makes you think that you’re worth hiring at all?”

Mike began to feel hot with anger, never before in his life has someone treated him with such disrespect. “I think that if you could just let me speak-”

The burly CEO yawned, “I think this interview is done. I don’t think you deserve a job here at TG&TF. Please see my secretary on the way out and let her know you will not be working here.”

Jumping up from his seat, practically fuming at this point, Mike shouted, “Fine! Fuck you and this job. I only wanted you to hire me so I could bang your secretary anyway!”

There was a pause between the two men, only the sound of Mike’s angry huffing filled the room. The tension could be cut with a knife. Slowly rising from his chair, Mr. Hargreaves dropped the last of his nice-guy facade and in a low growl questioned, “…You mean my wife?”

Mike’s anger & frustration quickly became fear and embarrassment as he looked up at the now towering man above him. “Shit I meant umm… your uhh… well, with all due respect sir-” Mike scrambled to recover from his critical mistake.

“You see, even though you absolutely failed the interview, your parents paid me off to hire you. However, I know your type quite well, a spoiled brat that goes around believing you’re better than anyone else in the room. Your resume might be perfect, but no company will ever hire you because of that insufferable arrogance. Even that prestigious university you graduated from, you were only admitted because of your parent’s could sign a check. You can flash around that shit-eating grin and charm everyone you meet but I can see right through you. In fact, just because of that last comment, I think I’ll have to personally take that pompous attitude into my own hands and set it straight. Maybe then we’ll see if you’re good enough to work under me.”

Mike could feel himself shrinking down in terror. “Wait please Walter I’m sorry! I promise I’ll never say anything like that again just please give me one more chance,” Mike begged for the first time in his life. It was hard enough admitting he was wrong but it was even harder pleading to someone he barely knew.

Walter slammed his fist, “That was your first mistake! Who calls a possible employer or even a CEO by their first name you conceited little shit?” He was fuming and Mike shuddered, almost on the verge of tears from the older man’s yelling. With a shaky voice, all that he could mutter were insufficient apologies as he slowly began trying to back out of his chair.

With the press of a button on Walter’s computer, Mike was pulled back down into the seat as hand and leg cuffs appeared out of the chair, shackling him down as a gag covered his mouth. “10 years ago I invested in a start-up company run by a bunch of neuroscientists and physicists that promised me they would change the world. Best decision I ever made. In 3 years, they came back with the most groundbreaking innovation I had ever seen, something they called a Chronivac. A machine that could bend reality to my will that could be easily programmed into something like a computer and controlled remotely somewhere like this tie. What do you think having a machine with the ability to change anything I want, ranging from turning an apple into an orange or completely rewriting a human being’s life, makes me? The most powerful man in the world.”

Fear and anger flooded Mike’s eyes, he was trapped and gagged, flailing around in his imprisonment of a chair in an attempt to get out.

“Now what should I do with you… a total reality check should be sufficient enough punishment yes? What do you think?”

The strap covering Mike’s mouth retracted instantly. “My parents will pay however much money you need just fucking let me go!” the blond boy yelled.

Walter groaned, “Foolish boy, you still don’t realize that this has nothing to do with money. Regardless, your parents don’t care for you. You’re nothing but a leech to them which is why they paid me to hire you just so you’d have a life of your own. They see you like how you see everyone else, especially the less fortunate.”

Furious he had been so carelessly insulted by someone with more power than him, Mike jerked forward from his restraints and spat saliva all over Mr. Hargreaves. “You have no idea what you’re talking about fucker. You’re just some big talk CEO who’s dick went limp-” Right before he could finish his mouth strap returned gagging him of his final say. However, Mr. Hargreaves wasn’t fazed, wiping the saliva from his face with his handkerchief all he had was a grin. “Nothing left to say? Well that talk gave me the perfect idea of what I can do for you. I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted, a job under my corporation, but let’s see if you’ll learn a lesson from a life without your trust fund.”

Mike struggled in his confinement as Mr. Hargreaves brought his hand to his tie-ring and tapped it, causing the previously tiny blinking light to turn on. “How exciting! The last time I transformed someone their family sued me and I had to pay millions for the cover-up. This time though, I’ll be more careful. How about we start with a blank canvas?”

Suddenly, the arm like tentacles shot out from around the room, beginning to rip every last bit of Mike’s clothes off him. In mere seconds, his $1000 suit laid tattered and torn on the floor. His eyes widened with shock as he was left barren, his flaccid cock and balls completely exposed to the evil CEO beginning the first part of Mike’s torment.

“For your new occupation you’ll need far more muscle than that, don’t you think?” provoked the CEO, who touched his tie-ring again.

As if the universe was listening, Mike began to feel a tingling sensitive wash over his body. Though filled with fear and resentment, there was this feeling of masculinity Mike couldn’t ignore. Testosterone coursed through his veins as he flexed what he could of his body while being restrained by his cuffs, causing his body to begin growing. His body stretched out, going from his above average 5’11 to 6’2, but his restraints adjusted to this change and transformed with him. Abs popped in, each one by one, reaching a total of 6 chiseled bumps. The changes moved from his torso to his chest and arms as he flexed causing his twig-like biceps to explode into meaty pythons. Mick’s guns were the stars of his show, veiny chick magnets. They were his pride and joy, always taking the chance to flex for his admirers. He then puffed out his flat chest involuntarily, causing his barren chest to fill out into pillowy pecs. Along with the changes with his upper body, his previously shaven and odorless armpits began to itch and tingle. Beyond his thick ‘ceps laid a sprouting bush of musky body hair, deep in his rank and constantly sweaty pits. His previously shaven pubes began to germinate, becoming a thin blanket of hair behind his thickened cock. However with this change cementing, he began to lose his intelligence in exchange for physical strength. A wave of nausea came over Mick as his IQ washed away. Tears welled in his eyes as he felt himself slowly grow dumber and dumber and by the end, he was unable to even compute 2+2 in his head. History rewrote itself to accustom to this change and instead of the preppy snob he had always been, he became the rich bully that pushed around other kids. 1st Place trophies in science fairs and math competitions became MVP awards and #1 Quarterback plaques, all thanks to endless hours in his mansion’s custom built gym that allowed him to grow into quite the man. A side effect of the new body was that Mick’s limp dick began to change as well, losing a bit of it’s length but enlarging in girth.

Mr. Hargreaves watched in delight as the once snobby know-it-all became the dumb bull of an all-star quarterback that got whatever he wanted with his daddy’s money and big muscles. He could feel a slight erection coming on as he watched the helpless boy change. Feeding into his primal desire, Walter sauntered over to the helpless jock, admiring his work and the first step of his process. Going behind the chair, he placed his hands over Mick’s pecs, beginning to fondle and pinch the hefty breasts, giving into what he wanted to do so desperately, make him his personal cumdump.

Mick began to thrash around to get the ball wealthy man away from his utters. He was filled with rage as his body shimmered with a layer of sweat caused by his attempts at resistance and his eyes only could see red. He could only watch helplessly as the CEO massaged his new perky tits, which deep down Mick knew felt amazing, but he was no faggot right? At the thought of becoming gay, Mick’s meathead-bully personality completely took over, fighting to get out of his cuffs and beat the CEO to pieces, causing Walter to walk back to his desk and continue observing from afar. Alas, no matter how strong Mick was physically, it was no use against titanium restraints. However, the CEO allowed him some freedom. “Remove the gag.”

Instantly the chair retracted the mouth cover. Within seconds, Mick taunted, “You fucking faggot! Let me go so I can beat you the fuck up. Yeah I bet you love seeing naked alphas like me. You wish you could suck my fat cock right now don’t you fag-”

“That’s enough,” Mr. Hargreaves interjected, causing the mouth gag to return instantly. It was true though, he had a wife in his secretary but that relationship was all just to save face in the public eye. He was a faggot but there’s no truth that can’t be hidden with money. Sighing, Walter became lost in thought, wondering how he could ever rid a human being of such a hate. “I think we’ll do your race next, you’ll need to fit in with everyone else in the crew of course…”

The CEO’s wish was commanded as Mickey began to feel a tingly sensation throughout his lanky body. On a subatomic level, the protons of his DNA began to unravel and rewrite themselves as his genetic alleles decoded from caucasian to hispanic. On the surface, his pale white skin cascaded down his body to a browner shade. “You know, I think I’ve always had a taste for latinos. Maybe Mexico… no Nicaragua? Hmm no that won’t do. Ah yes! How about El Salvador?”

Mickey’s whiteness washed away, he was a Salvadoran stud through and through. With this change, his body underwent more and more physical transformations. The first thing to go was a few inches off his height, following the stereotype of latino men not being the tallest. Even so, the more he shrunk, the more it meant his muscle mass compacted into his body. Mickey’s horror faded away as his upper body shrunk and lower body retracted, reaching what he knew he had always been 5’8.5” 174 cm. His previously beer-can cut caucasian cock became his favorite appendage as his foreskin returned to become the hoodie of his chorizo. With the perfect measurements of length and girth, the meat could reach a fully erected 8 inches and was thicker than spanish sausage. His straight dirty blond hair curled up and colored itself dark brown marrón. Michael’s other areas of body hair followed suit, his exposed crotch hair sprouted even further, turning a blanket into quite the bush of curly, musky pubic hair. In return, his body odor became a bit more pungent and wafted off the scent of hispanic spices especias. Though he was no longer the snobby white boy, he still reeked of arrogance. He came from a long line of the richest hispanic families in America, and not only was he loaded, but he was one of the hottest men out there. The hispanic hunk was the best soccer player el mejor jugador de fútbol headed straight for the big leagues, and the girls and guys couldn’t help but fawn over him. Even though he was no longer white, Michael still believed himself to be far better than everyone else. No one was his match, not on the field, not monetarily, and not even in bed. Around campus his reputación preceded him, notorious around campus for having the biggest cock and the highest sex drive. Open to both girls and guys alike, he didn’t care who he fucked as long as he could feel the satisfacción of creaming inside, as if he was shooting his shot into an open goal.

However, the horny CEO knew that a change of race wasn’t enough to rid the young stud of his mentality and ideologies, but he knew the perfect remedy for that. Fully drawn to the idea of ruining the snob’s life and changing him into his ideals, he continued with “Now, how about we strip you of that privilege.”

Suddenly, as something was drilling into his mind, Michael’s screamed in agony, which was muffled due to the gag. He closed his eyes as his memories began erasing away in a burning sensation, all to start his new life on a clean slate.

In reality, the world had forgotten about Mike Chandler, the heir to one of the largest fortunes in America. The Stanford graduate with a bright future and a horrible personality had never existed in the first place, instead people knew Miguel Chavez. In his memories, his mamá, papa y él left their country of El Salvador when he was 10 years old in search of a better life in America. Thankfully, some family that had left for the U.S. years ago were able to help them have a safe trip to their new home in the land of freedom. As soon as they got there, they began to settle down, ingraining new roots in a foreign country where they didn’t speak the language or know the culture. They didn’t have much but they worked tirelessly to create a future. Though undocumented, they were able to get low-paying jobs, rent a home in the barrio of LA, and send Miguel to school. The Salvadoran boy grew up humbled by the world, knowing he had no chance at college due to his poor grades and jock IQ, he focused on building his body and playing the sport he loved, fúbol. However, he knew due to his economic class he would never have a chance at making it big. Once he turned 15 he began to work, hopping from job to job to provide his tired parents with the income they desperately needed. As he got older, he turned from fast food to physical labor and even sex-work sometimes. His bisexuality opened the door for many clients and the muscles he gained through fútbol, construction, and years at the local run-down Planet Fitness made everyone crave a piece of the hispanic himbo. He loved showing off his body and boy was he good at using it, his reputation of being the best fuck around always preceding him. Through it all, he was able to provide para su familia.

All of the long-gone Mike’s memories, including his money, his accomplishments, and his education, were being taken and reformed into Miguel’s memories. In his younger years, he would come from preparatory school to his mansion, driven by his chauffeur. Now that was nothing more than a fantasy to Miguel, as instead he walked home from his ghetto high school to his small, one story house. No longer was his family always absent due to business trips, now he was a mama’s boy that worked tirelessly to provide his undocumented family with the little money he earned. The Chavez’s didn’t have much but what they had was each other, an everlasting familial bond Mike had never known. Even at 24 years old, still lived with them till this day, commuting from the barrio to his job everyday. Miguel was thankful for what he had and though he wasn’t the richest he had an amazing body, a kind heart, and a loving family, who could ever ask for more?

Out of nowhere, an arm-tentacle appeared from under the seat, holding a fleshlight in its grasp. Miguel watched as the arm made its way to his flaccid Salvadoran meat, scooping it up, and beginning to jerk it off. He could only moan as all of his memories of his life as Mike churned in his balls and began to culminate in his cock. After a few more strokes up and down and Miguel even beginning to move his hips up and down to fuck the fleshlight, he moaned through his gag, shutting his eyes as he released the final remnants of Mike into the sex-toy, forever ridding the spoiled white boy from the world.

Mr. Hargreaves observed giddily as Miguel then fluttered his eyes open, awakening a new man. He knew that the boy was nothing more than his slave, he could do anything he wanted with him, a complete puppet for his own personal control. Behind his desk and under his pants, his 10 inch cock was fully erect and dripping with pre as he watched his newest transformation come to fruition. The hispanic hunk looked around the room in a daze, confused on why he was in such an opulent room. Why was he naked? Why was his mouth covered and his arms and legs cuffed to a chair? Was he kidnapped? Now panicked, his eyes shot to the well-dressed daddy standing in front of him. “It’s alright Miguel, remember you’re here to please me…” Mr. Hargreaves reassured with a mischievous grin.

Almost instantly being soothed by the man’s voice, Miguel relaxed and then began to smirk seductively. “Why don’t you let me out of these cuffs papí so we can get to that,” the latin lover cooed in his accented voice. Almost instantly, Mr. Hargreaves disabled the chair’s constraints, allowing Miguel to take his ‘first’ steps out into the world. However, he didn’t run or fight the man, he had no reason to. Miguel was here for his boss’s pleasure, a frequent occurrence. You see, a few years ago Miguel started work at TG&TF Construction, a company owned by one of the largest corporations in the United States. On one of the projects at the corporation headquarters, he met the CEO who personally came to oversee the job. Instantly, the two felt a connection to each other, growing close as Mr. Hargreaves kept an eye on the Salvadoran stud, inviting him out to drink and to have certain talks about future construction projects in his office, alone. Together, the two created a symbiotic relationship, Miguel got promotions in TG&TF Construction, plus money on the side for his services, to provide for his familia and Walter got his own slutty Salvadoran sex-toy.

Slowly strutting over to Walter, Miguel felt up and down his new, naked body to arouse the wealthy tycoon, and it was working. “Sorry about that baby, you know how much I love a little bondage,” his boss flirted.

The horned-up stud couldn’t resist anymore, he felt completely in his element. His body was amazing and undeniably sexy. As he began stroking his uncut 8 inch chorizo and caressing his muscles for Mr. Hargreaves’s viewing pleasure, he could see the DILF’s cock print through his designer dress pants. “Come here,” the CEO demanded, beginning to massage the growing erection under his pants. The escort listened, climbing onto the man and allowing the two to get up-close and personal with each other. They began to passionately make out, hot and horny as Miguel grinded on the older man’s lap. They got sweaty, Miguel tearing off Mr. Hargreaves clothes as he smacked the younger man’s slutty ass.

“Flex for me baby,” the captivated CEO growled.

Miguel obeyed instantly, flexing his thick biceps and exposing his rank pits. His body odor, which was quite tame before, reeked of heavy spices and pungent musk. He was proud of it however, unashamed to let people catch onto the scent of a real man.

“You like that papí?” Miguel flirted as Mr. Hargreaves dove into the sweaty boy’s armpit, lapping up every drop of sweat and tasting the must first hand. Mr. Hargreaves moved from the escort’s pits to his pecs, worshipping the woman-like breasts, suckling on each nipple, and fondling his hefty jugs.

Mr. Hargreaves moved his hands down to his pants, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning to release his own 10 inch fuckmeat. Miguel’s face turned into a huge grin, as if he was a kid on Christmas morning, as he watched his client’s python flop out. He dropped to his knees and began to suck, bobbing his head up and down what he could fit in his mouth. It wasn’t long until Mr. Hargreaves came, shooting his load straight down the smelly brute’s throat, who swallowed it all happily.

“Thank you for this Miguel, I’ll have my secretary forward you the payment soon,” Mr. Hargreaves obliged greatly through heavy breathing as he buttoned back up his pants.

“No problemo papí. I have to get back to work pero I’ll see you later sí?” the slutty himbo inquired, rising from his knees and walking towards the giant office’s closet to grab his work clothes.

“Of course,” Walter walked over to Miguel, helping his secret lover to put his construction attire on. They looked each other in the eyes before they kissed each other goodbye.

He walked out the room, going back through the hallway he had once been a completely different man in just an hour ago. The busty secretary met Miguel at the door leading to the waiting room, giving him flirtatious smile as he checked her out for a bit. He had just came but he was still horny as hell. However, he was already late to work and didn’t have time for a quickie with his boss’s ‘wife.’ He begrudgingly opened the door but winked a goodbye to her as she followed behind. He stepped into the waiting room and watched as all the men, who were dressed in expensive suits looked up at him. A few of them chuckled seeing the sweaty construction worker out of place while the others punched their nose, unable to handle the pungent stink of a real man. “Fucking coños,” Miguel mumbled under his breath. If there was anything he hated in the entire world, it was people who believed they were better than everyone else because of their money. As he walked out of the waiting room, he heard the secretary call one of the pompous assholes for their interview, but he knew Mr. Hargreaves was going to reject them all anyway.

Later that same afternoon, Miguel had been working for hours at a construction site near downtown LA when he suddenly felt a buzz in his pocket. Curious, he wiped some sweat off his brow and removed his gloves, pulling out his phone to see a notification from Mr. Hargreaves. Opening his messages, his eyes lit up with excitement seeing a picture of his boss’s fully erect cock with an attached message, “Can’t wait to see you again.” Miguel felt his own dick harden in his pants from just seeing his papí’s python, being turned on by the idea of pleasing him again. Miguel smirked and raised his phone up to send a picture reply of his perfect bod that had been sweating for hours under the hot California sun. He was always down for un otra vez.

Welcome to Body Swan N’B! The premiere destination for all your body swap needs! We all know traveling can be hard. Booking flights, booking travel, and most importantly those outrageous prices. Don’t worry. We’re here with the solution! Why go to those snobby body swap hotels, when you can swap from the comfort of your own living room right into the amazing destination of our choice. Our list of thousands of home owners want YOU to take their body out for a spin from the comfort of THEIR own home. 

Choose between a collection of countless locations and individuals of your choosing. Want to cruise in the Caribbean as a local? Want to sample authentic Parisian cuisine as a refined food connoisseur? How about ride the Texan planes as a real cowboy!? All of that is possible and more with Body Swap N’B! Don’t believe us? Just listen to our satisfied customers

Reviews:

DisneyDad85: 2 out of 5 stars. 

My family and I were planning a trip to Disney and I wanted to find somewhere close to the park. The location was just as promised, a 3 bedroom with a great view. The bodies were not what I expected. I assumed when the listing described a “great way to enjoy the best parts of youth” that we’d be given some family friendly bodies. Not some local young men who were rooming together. I guess “young” is relative as my eldest boy found himself in the most mature body.  Being slightly overweight was new for him as he was always so nerdy and skinny. And as always, on his phone talking to his friends bragging about his new body. 

He loves being the oldest and eating whatever he wants without worry of food allergy. I told him that he wouldn’t like it if he had to worry about all that weight he’s putting on his new body later, but he doesn’t listen. 

Then there was my youngest! He loved the vintage aesthetic to the rooms we were given and he couldn’t stop playing with the phones there. 

He was certainly happy that he was tall enough to ride all the rides at the park, but I did not like how he was now able to consume all the alcohol at the various bars around the area. But being 6′7 and confident, it’s no like anyone would think to card him. Meanwhile I was now the only one of our party not old enough to drink only being 20 years old! Gosh… maybe I shouldn’t have snuck into that bar on the final day of the trip. I can’t believe I drunkenly renewed our vacation for next year! Still trying to contact customer support to discuss cancellation!

Overall good vacation, but just make sure you inquire about the bodies before making a big trip. I still feel just like the reckless 20 year old I was a few days ago. Almost like I’m still on vacation… maybe another trip will do us some good in the near future. 

AlwysABridesMaid: 3.5 out of 5 stars

So I like to imagine myself being very open minded when it comes to these swaps and vacations! I’ve tried out loads of these vacations with my girlfriends  and I when we did sorority parties in college! However, I’ve got to say this is the first time me AND my entire party ended up as ALL guys. Normally it wouldn’t be an issue as we love exploring new experiences and locations, but I don’t think my best friend the bride envisioned being surrounded by a bunch of hairy men during her wedding ceremony. That’s right every single one of her bridesmaids were now half a foot taller and a lot more manly than she expected. I’m mostly mad that I couldn’t fit into our tailor made dress. That being said, the wedding still went off without a hitch! We had so much fun doing spa days, bachelorette parties, and the actual day of wedding in our new bodies despite the small hiccup. 

Would I do this again? Definitely given a heads up about the party. But now that I’m intimately aware of some new male physiology I’d definitely like to try it again. The best man certainly wants to do some more exploration with me after last night. Anyway, has anyone ever heard of the so called “side effects” people keep referring to? The bridesmaids and I all found ourselves inside these book smart engineers and now I feel like my IQ is through the roof. All the girls and I can do at the nail salon is just gab about research papers, new theorems, and the latest technological marvels making the news!

WifeGuy88: 1 out of 5 stars

I swear I’m a feminist. Gotta get that out there before I say that I’m not sure my wife and I should do another of these trips. I heard that there used to be lots of safety procedures when it came to these swaps, but I recently heard that unlike Swap Hotels, they do not have to cover any kinds of safety or ethical costs associated with normal swapping. 

I’m getting ahead of myself. The reason I’m not jazzed about Body Swap N’ B is because… I was a bit jealous my wife was bigger than me…. I know we booked a room for a loving couple…. But I didn’t expect both pairs of that couple to be male. Being a former college athlete and finding myself in a 5 foot nothing twink was a big enough shock.

 But when my wife came stomping in from the other room as a big mass of hair and muscle… well let’s just say that weekend went very differently than I imagined… It all feels like such a blur…. And my ass is still sore…

But no! I’m leaving this as a warning. There are reviews saying your mind thinks differently after the swaps and that some people are claiming they are stuck in those bodies longer than they like! Also my girlfiend signed us up for another trip and due to their zero cancellation policy I know we’re gonna be there sooner than later if things go their way! Not that I mind…. I rather liked being thrown around by a larger man for a change… I’m sure it’s gonna be a lot of fun… but that doesn’t take away from the fact that this company can’t keep getting away with this. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my wife some new male outfits that she wants to try for our next vacation. 

BenTheOrganizer: 5 out of 5 stars

Great for family reunions! 

Normally I was the one that plans all these big family events. Criticism here and there about this location being too hot, too cold, or too far. But hey! Finally got a family gathering we can get behind! Who would’ve thought that it was when my entire family were in the body of one of the biggest college fraternities in the state! Turns out aunt Marjorie doesn’t have time to comment on my lack of partner when she’s doing a keg stand while uncle Larry cheers her on. Turns out cousin Jeremiah can’t brag about making partner as his law firm when he can finally cut loose dancing to some music! Racist grandpa Marvin won’t be making any problematic remarks about minorities when he’s enjoying his big black body so much. And the younger second cousins aren’t nearly as annoying when you can share some beers with them while we all test out our new muscles in the frat’s personal gym. 

My parents were surprisingly the most into the idea. My mom and dad are some of the most heteronormative couples I know but it wasn’t 5 minutes before someone found them making out the frat house locker room. They kept saying it wasn’t gay if it was two bros, but I don’t think any amount of “No Homo” could save face there. Especially when they were caught a few hours later doing the same thing.

As for me… well maybe I put myself into the hottest guy there, the frat president, on purpose when I filled in the special requests portion.  But hey. I think I  deserve it for a job well done. In fact as I’m writing this review I’m still in his body! After all thanks to the “Extend your Stay” option, we were able to  extend our swap vacation for another 2 weeks.  Maybe if this continues going so well I can talk to the company about having us keep these bodies.  I don’t think my entire family can go back to their old lives when they are loving being loud, raucous, muscle heads every day of the week. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got another frat party to plan. Thanks Body Swap N’ B!

Body Swap And Breakfast is not liable for any lasting physical, mental or reality changes. Any long lasting development of new abilities or attributes that is shared with a previous swapped body please contact your doctor. Body Swap And Breakfast is not affiliated with Swap Hotel and its affiliates.

Like Alice in Wonderland?

Katie was at this Air BNB with her family for this annoying family vacation. She was too old for this but she was still trying to find ways to enjoy herself. The morning she woke up she did not see either of her parents. On the counter, there were tiny cookies with sayings on it. The one Katie grabbed said “Eat Me”.

“What is this like wonderland now” Katie said annoyed but she was hungry and didn’t want to make breakfast and the cookie looked pretty good. What she didn’t know was her parents found the cookies their this morning and they were already long effected from what the cookies can do to the eater.

Katie ate the cookie, and within moments she felt off. Suddenly she began to grow in height. “Holy hell” she said as her clothing was getting tighter on her taller body. She was in shock, as she looked at her hands. They were growing larger and widening, as callous formed on her palms.

Her hair began to recede into her head, as she now had a shining bald head. “Did this cookie do this” Katie said in a deepening tone, as his body began to fill out with muscle. His arms began to expand and widen, as his frame began to thicken. Muscle began to expand on his back, as his chest was hardening and gaining a toned appearance.

Pecs formed on his chest, as a dusting of chest hair grew, and went down to his now toned stomach. His height was towering as he was easily over 6 feet and still growing tall. He used his roughy hands to feel his smooth bald head, as he felt stubble forming on his face.

His body was large, as his legs began to thicken and grow with muscle which helped the growing man to keep his balance. His feet began to crack and grow. His toes got larger, as they widened. Katie looked down at his growing feet as they took a more masculine appearance and were gigantic for how big was getting.

His black shorts were tight on him, as a big bulged formed between his legs. His new manhood grew between his massive legs, as he was now standing at 6’9 with a size 16 shoe. Katie looked around disoriented, as his face began to fill out and harden.

His nose got larger, as his thick chin strap appeared on his face. His face continued to shift and change, as Jack’s voice continued to deepen. The cookies that were placed in this house magically altered people and made them someone completely different.

Jack’s old life seemed like a dream, as the giant man’s eyes went blank for a second before his mind reset. Jack looked around at this house wondering why he was there and where he was.

He was a foreman construction worker, and he was barely dressed in a house he was never in. He went outside in just his shorts and looked around wondering where the hell he was.

Samuel was a huge tech junkie and a pro hacker based out in Virginia. Not only that, he had dabbled a bit into the transformation community and has been trying to get a hold of a copy of Chronivac. Instead, he became the first hacker to breach the security systems of Gaia Corporation, rumored to be behind this new app.

He went through all their data servers and found what many have been looking for. PHOENIX. The new app. Samuel downloaded the .app file and installed it into his old Samsung phone. It was definitely flashy with all its hyperrealistic graphics. It was a lot like what many said about Chronivac - full body scan of the user, dials for muscle, handsomeness, eye color change, the tools to ‘rise from the ashes’.

Unfortunately, Gaia Corp. was able to detect his breach, and… well, he rose from the ashes the hard way. Now a California surfer/model, Sam’s still quite tech-savvy, if posting a shirtless pic on Instagram counts.

When I answered the phone and it was the police saying “it’s about your boyfriend”, my heart sank fearing the worst. But it was okay, he was alive and well, but had been involved in some kind of accident. Apparently he might look differently. After a few hours of impatient waiting, I heard the keys turn in the lock. I waited anxiously in the kitchen.

“Hey babe, it’s me” I heard from the hallway, but it was a deep rumble of a voice. I froze rigid in the kitchen, only to see some hunk of a man come around the corner. 

“Who are you?!” I shouted at him nervously.

“Babe, babe, don’t worry, it’s me! I don’t know how all this happened, but, but, it’s still me inside, I promise! I was just driving past the abandoned building where there are all those conspiracy theorists outside, and next thing I know, I am sitting at the wheel of a pickup directly behind our Prius in these weird clothes.” The stranger explained.

I dared to walk closer to the man in front of me and then a waft of locker room and cheap aftershave hit me. 

“Apparently I’m going to be stuck like this for at least a few weeks” He continued, subconsciously adjusting his junk. “But I’m not allowed to tell anyone to avoid a panic. I had to beg them to let me tell you!” He came closer and bear hugged, unused to his new size and stuffing my face into the crease of one of his massive arms. “So I still have his truck because I can’t really fit in our car now. It’s ludicrously big and uses far too much gas, but there’s no other option. I also need to gather all my clothes for him and take them over and then I can pick up some of his stuff for me, since none of my stuff will fit me for now.” 

When he was a kid, his classmates called him giraffe for being so tall and always run away from the bullies that he called "hyenas" once. When his mother remarried during his final year in elementary school, his stepbrother and stepfather bossed him around the house and treated him like shit all the way until college. The jocks in highschool and uni bullied him constantly as his growth spurt halted and he's just lanky....not even towering tall, while the girls avoided him like the plague, especially after the whole pirate debacle (he dressed up as a pirate to a movie theatre near his college, that even his date that day eventually bailed 10 minutes after the movie started). All the mistreatment even continued in professional settings as he believed he's been skipped for the promotion he deserved just because of his look! He is working in the IT department of a bank for God's sake, not even working in customer services or marketing that might use those kind of shallow judgements in "appearance" and "personality". All of that, compounded by the reality where every hookup forced him to be the bottom because of his frame, caused him to be really angry to the whole world. But it turns out that he's not the only one angry to the world for the perceived injustice.....

I mean that look of yours is so much less innocent now. I see that dark side under there, taking over. That’s it. It feels good. Feed that anger, let it all out. Nice. That’s it bro. Bigger. Give in, jock out, show my what you got and… there… you… grow.

I woke up to the sound of clanging weights and an unfamiliar, strong scent of sweat. Confused, I opened my eyes to a bustling gym instead of my usual bedroom. My reflection in a nearby mirror showed a handsome muscular Asian man – a stark contrast to my skinny, white self. My eyes were immediately drawn to the well-defined muscles. The chest was broad and with bulging pectorials. "What the...? This not me," I muttered, staring at the stranger in the mirror. My name was Mervin, a geeky guy who loved computers, but now, I was somehow this man named Hao Zheng.

I attempted to articulate my thoughts, but I quickly noticed a struggle with language. "Why talking so haawd? Eng... Eng-rish words not come out light." I muttered, feeling not just a struggle with language but a slowness with my thoughts. Simple sentences felt like puzzles I had to piece together. "My voice... sound so low. Deep, with accent. Bù kě sī yì!" Ideas and concepts that I would normally process in English were now forming in Chinese, making me feel even more disconnected from myself.

As I tried moving around with my new heft, I felt an uncomfortable body odor emanating from me. The scent was overpowering, and pungent. My mind was clouded, and I found it hard to focus on anything other than lifting weights. "Lift more, tink less," I heard myself saying. “No pain, no gain. Duì ma?” I find myself fist bumping some Hispanic bodybuilders who I could only assume were gymmates.

Exhausted from the workout, I trailed behind my gymmates. "We go work now, lift real stuff," one of them said with a Puerto Rican accent, slapping me on the back. I nodded, trying to fit in, but inside, I was screaming. I discovered Hao Zheng was a construction worker, a life different from my own. Looking down, I saw hands that were rough and calloused, bearing the marks of hard work.

The sun beat down on us, and I felt sweat mix with the dirt on my skin. "You carry this," a coworker said, handing me a heavy load. The words were simple, but my mind struggled to grasp them. "Yes, I carry," I replied, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears. "Why so slow today, Hao?" a colleague asked. "Not feel good," I mumbled, unable to explain the inner struggle inside me.

Exhausted from the day's labor, I trudged back to what was now my home – a small, dingy studio that reeked of neglect. The odor hit me the moment I stepped in, a mix of stale food and unwashed clothes. The thought of showering in the cramped, unkempt bathroom was too much to bear. So, I simply let my clothes fall to the floor, leaving my dirty work clothes in a pile on the floor.

As I stood in front of the mirror, I hardly recognized the person staring back at me. The muscular physique, the broad shoulders, and the rough, calloused hands were still a wonder to me. For a moment, a sense of pride swelled within me as I marveled at the muscular physique. "This... strong body,"

Touching my face, I felt the rough texture of the skin, so different from my own. My reflection showed a face hardened by sun and labor, with a stern expression that seemed perpetually etched into it. I took a closer look at the scars and marks that adorned this body, each a testament to a life of hard physical work. "Maybe Hao Zheng not so bad," I whispered.

Not caring about the dirt and sweat that clung to my skin, I lay down on the small, uncomfortable bed with the smell of the day's toil surrounding me. I felt disgust, not just at the odor, but at the entire situation. "Wǒ shì shéi? How this happen?" I thought, my mind still reeling in confusion. The bed, with its lumpy mattress and musty sheets, slick against my skin. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the unfamiliarity of my surroundings.

The Beast

It happened so fast your body nearly tripled in size, you collapsed onto the ground, your close ripped apart leaving you naked, but as you reached for your phone suddenly you felt clothed again. What you saw staring back at you was amazing.

Fuck the sight of you hairy and muscled a full beard engulfing your face had you rock hard. You felt the testosterone flowing through you, making you a beast of a man, a hairy beast that needed to satisfy his most basic need, you needed to fuck and unlike your urges before a dude would no longer satisfy you, something happened when you transformed. All you craved was women, women with big tits. Your new massive dick was made for fucking the opposite sex, for spreading your seed and creating an army of god like men like you.

You put on as little clothing as possible and headed out, by the end of the day you'd return with a harem of woman wishing to please this muscle god.

Don’t blame me for this one, you guys voted for something diabolical.

= = = = =

The references were esoteric. In fact, I had to hide my true research from the university, under the guise of reclassifying “ritualistic” items. The irony did not escape me. I was actually looking to access a “ritualistic” item that was classified as mundane. 

Legends spoke of a god of flesh. One that manipulates the body as one would manipulate clay. Its name has long since been lost to time, but there are echoes of his work in the myths of old. We often hear of a creator god shaping man from the earth, of half-human hybrids and giants and other such peculiarities. Glimpses of this god of flesh. I had only read into such a figure from a blog by happenstance. A miracle of probability. 

I eyed the needle, now in my hand. It was unassuming but carried a supernatural weight to it, like the weight of time immemorial. I grinned, practically moaned as I pricked my finger with the needle. 

I expected some sort of magical fanfare, maybe a gust of wind but found none. I stared at my hands and then I noticed it. My hands. My flesh. I could feel all of it. I stared intently as I pinched the skin above my finger, I willed the pleat to hold its shape and smiled. I was ready.

- - - - 

I thought through the myths, now partial realities in my head. Though I felt myself brim with power, I knew the drawbacks- there had to be a reason the myths had not made it to present day. The answer appeared in my head. There is only so much one man can do, and being giftedoften made one a target. A word echoed in my head. “Protection”. That did seem to match my records. Humans of old would change their flesh to be stronger, more resilient, adapting to every circumstance thrown at them. But the weakness persisted. One prick to channel the same power as the god of flesh, and another prick locks you from that power again. I smiled to myself. I just needed to get… creative. 

Joey Cooper was well-known around the college. A fifth year senior majoring in Sport Science. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he always meant well. He had an air of confidence to him that often aided his statuesque form. Despite this, something else drew my interest even further. His unattainability. The man was often called by his nickname “old faithful,” having been in a relationship with his girlfriend Britney for as long as any can remember. Guys and girls from all walks of life have tried to tempt “Juicy Joe” (A nickname he wasn’t aware of). None of have succeeded. 

And then there was Charlie Cooper, his younger brother, a freshman with the face of an angel. He had unattainability in a different sense. Kind eyes and gentle curly locks framed a face that often wore a worried expression. Unlike his brother, he was timid, and a bit reserved. He had a lack of confidence that seemed to be a hindrance to his social life. Charlie would often shied away from conversation, despite others regularly visiting his dorm. Charlie roomed with Joey in the school dorms, a rarity for this campus. I overheard a conversation with Charlie once on this oddity. Beneath his unintelligible mumbling he mentioned something about being “faithful to Brit” and getting Charlie “out of his shell”.

I bit my lip thinking about the prospects.

— - - - - -

“Oh hey Joey!” I waved casually as I approached a Joey returning to his dorm room, face flush and covered in a sheen. He must have just come from the gym. He was consistent with his workouts, so it was no surprise he would still be in campus after finals to get one last pump in.

“Hey dude! Uh, sorry I don’t remember names to well”. He replied back in a friendly manner. I shook my head at that.

“No need to apologize. I don’t think we’ve ever formally met.” He looked back at me expectantly, hand outstretched to greet. I shook it as I continued. “My name’s gonna be Joey too”. He nodded and smiled politely but the man’s face couldn’t hide his visible confusion.

I clung onto the lack of rejection on Joey’s part as an invitation for myself. As he continued into his room, I followed, allowing the door to close behind us. The silence from the near empty dorm was deafening. He turned around, again making a polite smile. “Uh hey again… Joey… can I help you?”

I dropped all pretense, rushing to his bed and taking a whiff. “Fuck dude, you smell so hot”. Everything in the room carried a small sample of his scent. Like a gentle sweaty musk overlaid with his detergent. I looked to the sweaty Joey, inching closer and taking a whiff of his fresh personal scent. Divine. I felt my jaw unlock in a small moan. His post workout scent was like a concentrate of the pleasant musk I smelled before. Like raw testosterone and shallow breaths, and a hint of earthiness that exuded power. Juicy Joe. I was drunk on the scent, mind transfixed, until I caught him staring. He was starting to get upset.

“Hey bro, you should probably lea-“ He froze as he saw me extend a nerve out of my hand, like a red root outstretched into the air. “The fuck?”

He began stepping back but as soon as my nerve landed on his arm, he struggled back into stillness. I smiled in euphoria as I felt every individual root of my vein burrow into his skin and connect with his. Checkmate. He watched as more and more of my nerve rooted into his flesh, screaming as he felt the violation to his sense of touch. 

“No one can hear you bro, it’s after finals, remember?” I twirled the needle in front of him before setting it on the table. “Can’t have you taking a shower and removing your natural cologne”. Joey was still frozen as he saw me begin to undress. Juicy Joe had a body brimming with power, and I knew it would burst at any moment. I took care as I undressed, rooting and unrooting my nerves, and making sure to always keep at least one red thread of control on him at all times. 

Joey glared as he saw me finish placing my clothes in a neat pile on the floor. “Your turn”.

“What the fuck dude!? What makes you think-“ He was cut off as the red strings bridging our flesh began to writhe. In turn, he felt his meaty arms begin to move, and pull down his compression shorts. The feeling was altogether unfamiliar, as he felt his own flesh betray him and move to my will. I willed him to hand me the soaked shorts. Even with the power of the god of flesh on my side, I could feel Joey struggling for control through sheer willpower alone. I laughed a little in my head. There are other ways to break a man. 

I brought his heavenly scented shorts up to my face, gorging myself on the potent raw musk of man. Like a pungent blast of earth and humidity and testosterone. A Joey-concentrate. I could practically feel the potency of it clawing at my nostrils. A sweat-laden Joey reeked in the best way. I must have been lost in pleasure, because my eyes refocused to his pleading face. “P-please man, just stop whatever this is. What do you want?”

I laughed. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s you. I want you. Every part of you.”

A few more nerves shot from my legs, and directly into his. With some new tethers in place, I pulled the threads connecting my arms to his, and quickly slipped under his sweaty workout shirt. I clung to his muscled chest for dear life. ‘Bless these stretchy workout shirts,’ I thought to myself. I felt along the ridges of his spine, across his shoulders which screamed power, and with my hands, I greedily caressed the flesh previously only touched by Britney. I gripped our embrace tighter. Joey was screaming and writhing, soaking the shirt further and my body in his struggle. I moaned as he screamed, as every turn and twist his body made also pushed my chest closer to his, confined by his own workout shirt. I sighed dreamily as his struggle compressed us closer together.

With the power of the needle, I made myself much more malleable and began to slip my arms to into the arm sleeves of his shirt. I spiraled them across his meaty biceps, possessively claiming every square inch of his flesh as my own. I did the same with my legs, wanting to bind us further.

The sight must have been bizarre- two men, naked from the waist down, both in the same sweaty workout shirt. And the smaller man, stretching and wrapping his arms and legs over the other.

“Now for some real fun” I stated, as I shot out as many of my nerves into him as I could. He screamed at the sensory assault as he fell unconscious. I merely continued rooting into him, relishing in being able to feel every inch of Mr. Unattainable. I slowly stumbled our bodies toward his mirror, making sure to have him grab his own phone.

= = = = =

When Joey came to, he saw my head hanging to the side in front of his, and his body enveloped by mine. He panicked when he saw more threads from my face rooted into his neck and mouth. “Fuck Joey, I can feel how strong your lungs are. Even your breaths feel like a top jock” I moaned. 

Like raindrops, I felt his tears stream down his cheek and onto my face. “L-Let me go man. Look I’m sorry for whatever I did to you. I swear I don’t remember doing anything.”

I laughed callously. “No need to apologize, bro. You haven’t done anything to me. I just want you all to my own.” I brought his phone up to his face so he could see the name on the call screen. Britney.

“Babe?” She answered. “What’s up?”

“H-HEL-“ He tried to holler. Instead, his neck swelled and throat strained as he my red thread began to writhe. 

“Joey? Is everything all right?” She asked in a worried tone.

“Fuck yeah it is,” Joey’s mouth laughed, while his eyes showed fear. I continued to use him as my mouth piece. “You’re so boring, Brit. Just called to tell you it’s over.” Tears began to well in his eyes. I could practically hear the tears in Brit’s eyes over the phone.

“Joey… I. Is something wrong? You never call me Brit. I told you how my dad used to…” She trailed, trying to rationalize the situation.

I continued the puppet show as Joey’s eyes continued pleading with me. “Nothing’s wrong, Babe. In fact, it’s finally all right over here.” He stated with a smile. Joey’s eyes winced at the venom spewing from his mouth.

Joey grunted as he tried to stop his free hand from fondling my ass. “Do you know how many girls and guys wanted in these pants, Brit? Do you know how hard is to always turn someone down. They all want a piece of Juicy Joe.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess you mentioned it once…” She sniffled. “But I thought we were fine” said a choked up Britney.

“Fuck no this isn’t fine. Look at me. I’m a fucking bull.” Joey was forced to say, while sticking his tongue out. I briefly stopped his hand from groping my cheek to force it into a biceps flex. He tried to squirm his head away but was ultimately forced to lick it and moan. I huffed and whispered in his ear. “I bet you taste fucking salty, Joey.” 

“Babe, what’s wrong? You never talk about your body that-“

“Brit, just shut the fuck up”. That seemed to shut her up. “Always fucking whining too…” I made Joey huff. The upper half of his head was sobbing now. I forced his free hand back over my ass, and used his other hand to set the call to speaker. “It’s over”.

Joey dropped the phone on the table- still mid call, as I willed his other hand to cup my other cheek. Squeeze. “Fffuuuuck” I moaned. “You’re fucking mine, Joe.” Like his musculature, I commanded my cock into a malleable state, snaking over his, encircling it like a fleshy sleeve. Then, all at once, my red threads of control stirred, as Joey fucked his thick jock dick into my makeshift cocksleeve. “I’m fucking yours”. I made him say. My eyes fluttered in drunken bliss.

“Joey- who is that?”

I felt his head struggle as he tried to stop his body from growing hard. At this, I made sure he had full control of his cock. His plump ass cheeks tightened as his body was forced to thrust into me. I saw him wince, but we both felt the change. Even without me controlling it, his cock stirred to life.

I willed my flesh puppet to answer. “Oh, him? I’ve been fucking him during this call, Brit. That’s how boring you are. Stupid too- we’ve been fucking for months and you never noticed” I make him say it to his reflection as well, topping it with a sleazy grin he never wore. I also made a point to moan, to force him to thrust his hardening dick into me in loud, boisterous grunts. “Fuck. Brit. You. Never. Felt. This. Good”. I make him gasp in between breaths. 

“So you’re fucking him, right now?” She asked, now turning to anger.

“Mmph… YES” I let him shout, as I tightened my fleshy trap around his engorged dick and milk his seed dry. To add to the injury, I released control of his mouth at the same time, so in that moment, he felt himself scream bloody pleasure and coat my flesh in his juices.

“YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD TO ME,” Britney shouts, before hanging up.

Perhaps it was due to the pleasure, or the bombardment of his senses, or the sheer perversion of the situation, but Joey’s eyes rolled back to its whites and his head slumped into my shoulder. 

I basked in the moment, coated in the sweat and baby batter of Mr. Unattainable. Breathing in sync with his unconscious form. With his head still slung forward, I willed his upright form to give my ass another squeeze. “Take me, bro. I’m your fucking meat puppet. Feel me. Use me. These muscles, this body. It’s all yours. I’m all yours.” I make Joey say. Mr. Unattainable wholly mine.

I kept him upright, facing the mirror without a care for how sore his post-workout body already was. I made sure he stirred awake, to still see himself playing and groping my fleshy form, bonded together supernaturally by the god of meat. He sobbed silently at our union.

With Joey whimpering and broken, I began to retreat into my original form, letting his arms and legs and chest free. All that connected our two naked bodies now was just a single thread of red. But just one thread was all I seemed to need. I no longer felt resistance from his body, as his sullen face just looked to me with defeat. 

I made him reiterate my will. “I’m all yours,” Joey mumbles. I puppetted him to close the distance, and pull my back towards his abs. Joey did not resist as body grinded into mine. He clumsily grabbed my head for a sloppy kiss. And once again, I tasted and experienced something only Brit previously had. His tears smeared into my cheek as I started making him kiss me. My eyes fluttered closed as I was in ecstasy. True pleasure. His lips slowly pried mine open, then the tip of his tongue touching mine. In our deranged intimacy, I savored the taste of Joey’s mouth and of his tongue now forced mine. I didn’t want this to end. Joey’s body pulled back from the kiss and began groping itself, repeating his new mantra. “I’m all yours.”

Still repeating his mantra, my eyes locked with his, before he grabbed the needle from the desk and pricked his hand with it. In that instant, I heard the door unlock. 

What were the chances? Another miracle of probability. There was a single late final on campus, for an upper div class that freshmen rarely took. And yet, it seemed there was one freshman that did happen to take such a class.

Just my luck. 

Charlie.

= = = = =

As the toxicity poured from the bucket hat to his mind like an electric sensation, Isaac cannot help but smirk as he now feels at home and not weirded out inside this studly tattooed body that he can call his now. The longer the hat stays, the more Isaac forget about his old look and overall life as brand new memory of sporting glory, juvenile delinquency and epic college life filled his brain to the brim while his massive snake elongated to a length that was once foreign territory for him but it's simply a semi now. The victorious groan of all the football matches he and his team won, the roar he let out to match the scream of the pussies he destroyed elicited sadistic smile from his face as a newborn alpha emerged for the whole world to witness, ready to spread his toxic influence to any audience that wanted a piece of his life.