I hired Nick to do some tile work in our kitchen last year. Seeing his thick, muscular body and thick salt and pepper stubble, I knew I wanted him more than just for the job. Harvesting a man like this always comes with a risk. He owned his own business and had a wedding ring. There could also be kids. All of which would require commitment to play his part. I weighed that with the benefits and decided he was still superb candidate for conversion.

I waited until he was finished with the job just as he finished sealing the grout lines. I gave him a pat on the back. That was no friendly gesture, that was me sealing the deal. He fell backwards with the injection as his mass drained from his body over his handiwork. I got a free tile job and a bodysuit out of the venture.

I decided to take my new body out to the gym. I love the way people look at me in his flesh. This man of 48 kept such good care of his body. I’m more than happy to preserve it in the state forever.

I knew the risk when I converted him. Now I am married with a wife and daughter. Thankfully he spend so much time in the garage working on his hobby of restoring classic cars that they don’t bother me too much.

The benefit still outweighs that minor inconvenience when I see myself in his body. It’s been a year now and I’ve come to enjoy occasionally playing the Daddy role.

His hobby has opened up new opportunities for me. The garage is a perfect place for my other bodysuit related activities. I have his car buddies over all the time. Some of those buddies have benefits. Andrew was one of those buddies.

I asked him over to help me drop a transmission. With a little bit of work came a little bit of fun. Andrew loved, sucking Nick’s cock. During one of these sessions, I couldn’t resist, but adding Andrew to my collection as well.

This morning I was a skinny twink.

Soft face, lean hairless body, no real muscle. I was the kind of guy who got called pretty more than anything else. I lived alone, fucked a different man every night, and never thought my life was about to get completely rewritten.

It was my friend Sarah’s fault.

She’d always joked about how she wished for a proper husband. Someone strong and masculine. Someone who looked like he could handle life. As we were chatting she said it out loud, “I just wish you could be my perfect husband"

The change hit me without warning.

A deep heat flooded my body while, my shoulders cracked and broadened, filling out into a thick, powerful frame. My chest surged forward into heavy, solid pecs as dark ink burned itself across my neck, chest, and hands, tattoos forming. A full beard pushed out across my sharpening jaw. My hair shortened into a sharp fade, as muscle packed onto my arms, back, and legs until I looked like I’d spent years doing hard physical work.

By the time I looked in the mirror I was gone.

In my place stood a heavily tattooed, bearded, muscular man in a high-vis jacket. I was the exact kind of man Sarah had always described when she talked about the husband she wanted.

And then reality around me rewrote itself to match my new body.

New memories settled in like they’d always been there. A wedding day, the guys on the site I now work on as my groomsmen. Sarah’s smile. Me fucking Sarah senseless. The excitement I felt finding out she was pregnant. The weight of a small child in my arms. A house that wasn’t the small flat I used to live in. Early mornings, work sites, the feeling of coming home to my family. My thoughts changed as well, I wasn't gay anymore, I was a total boobs man now. The though of watching Drag Race now bored me, I would much rather watch football with a beer in hand.

I stared at my reflection, running my hands through my thick beard, taking in my neck tattoos and how my shoulders fill out the dirty high-vis.

This morning I had been a skinny twink. But no more, now I was Sarah’s husband. Now I had a kid. The strangest part was how right it already felt. I lifted my phone, took the mirror selfie, and exhaled slowly. I should be mad, but i'm not, this feels right.

Posted at:

X - Twitter

“Okay, but be serious, who’s your actual celebrity crush?” “I told you it’s…it’s yeah it’s Chris Pratt.” What was it about the worst memories that made them lurch their head at you? Kyle wondered as he tossed and turned in the middle of the night. Every time he thought about the office party earlier, he could still see one of his coworkers, Derek, nearly choking on their beer. They had all been too drunk, which meant they were fun enough to suggest truth or dare but not good enough at hiding their judgements. It had all come to a head when it was Kyle’s turn. “Truth”, he said, because the last ‘dare’ someone got was to email what they really thought of the last project to their boss. 

Who’s your one big-time celebrity crush? 

It was too easy, which meant that Kyle felt too safe. Even now, he groaned into his pillow just thinking about how naive he’d been. He thought if anything, he would have been made fun of for choosing someone who was ‘safe’. It would be the same thing as saying that his favourite hero was Superman, something just seen as basic and too plain. Yet somehow the opposite happened. He said Chris Pratt, and there was that horrible moment of silence, where he could see everyone just glance at each other.

You serious? 

Oh god, Kyle thought. He had a horrible moment where the world fell out from under him. He had told these people he was gay, didn’t he? Kyle’s throat bobbed up and down. Then the tension in the air had grown taut as he could suddenly see the smiles turn to slight frowns, out of disappointment and sympathy. They realised that he was being serious. 

Oh…Oh, you mean…Isn’t he like super Christian?

Yeah, and uh I mean he was cool as Star-Lord, but I dunno, I haven’t seen him in much.

No, no, he was in the…the well, the…

What?

The…Mario movie?

Ew, oh my god, that’s him?

Derek-

Oh shit, like no offense Kyle, yeah, he’s…he can be like cute…

I mean, I don’t get it, but go off.

The conversation had quickly devolved after that. It was the worst kind of cruelty, not cruel enough for Kyle to call anyone out on it later, but just soft enough to sting. The double takes, the certain looks, the comments that could have been taken either way. 

The drunken people trying to recover and trying to make it less awkward while somehow making it so much worse. He remembered shrinking further into the couch when his coworker Derek kept bringing it up. No, no, I’m surprised, man. I just thought you’d be more into like that guy from Bridgerton. Chris is just kinda…I dunno, like regular. 

Kyle felt a shiver down his spine as his face pulled inward, cringing. Logically, he knew everyone was drunk in their beds, letting the night float away in a haze of booze and dissolve into hangovers and half-forgotten conversations. By tomorrow, Derek probably wouldn’t even remember half the stupid things he had said. Nobody had screamed at Kyle or called him disgusting or even insulted him, technically. But it somehow made it so much harder to justify the awful twisting feeling still lodged in his chest, and now he just felt guilty for feeling bad in the first place. 

“Just wish people would get it,” murmured Kyle sleepily into his pillow. He didn’t know why he said it. He thought that maybe he just needed to get it out of his system. Either way, Kyle let himself just mutter it and then finally, felt sleep drag him under.

The next morning came fast. Kyle groaned, the beginnings of a hangover throbbing behind his skull. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but when the room swayed slightly, he wondered if it was because he was still drunk.

As he got up, wondering how alcohol could make someone sleepy enough to collapse into bed but not enough to feel well rested, he paused. A familiar voice drifted faintly from his neighbour, familiar enough to have him stop what he was doing just as he rolled out of bed. He blinked and then cringed.

Of course, the first thing he would hear was Chris Pratt. His loud neighbour was probably up watching something again. The constant sound of music and movies that bled into his room made him wonder just when, if ever, did his neighbor slept. 

Kyle sighed tiredly as he went to get ready. He yawned later as he swiped through his phone, barely paying attention to the articles:

Chris Pratt Industries announces new subsidiary focusing on…

It’s Pratt! The new gameshow sweeping…

“I always wanted to be a writer,” Writer Chris Pratt tells all in exclusive…

When he saw Chris a couple of times, he groaned. But then again, it was just the algorithm, he thought. Not just some fate mocking him through constant reminders of what happened last night. It was early, but Kyle hoped he could get into the office before the others. It only took him a few steps out of his apartment before he ran into one of his neighbours, seeing their door open.

“Oh hey, Mr-” Kyle expected to see the old man from downstairs emerging into the lobby with his usual slow and careful gait, cane first. He had gotten to know a couple of the people around his building well enough, and the retired medical doctor downstairs was one of them. Kyle had gotten used to their little morning exchanges over the past year and liked how the man always called him ‘son’ or compared him to one of his grandchildren, as all old people do.

But then the figure who stepped out into the hall was anything but small or frail or elderly. Kyle watched a solid wall of muscle and flannel fill the corridor as the figure ducked their head slightly beneath the doorframe as they stepped out. 

He blinked, seeing the figure wearing the same flannel and jeans that he caught Mr. Bennet in. He knew because he always thought the old man dressed younger than he was. Kyle couldn’t fully see them as they whistled (the same tune he caught Mr. Bennet whistling) and faced the door, locking it. He could only see the ridges of their muscular back, the back of their auburn hair, and their thick neck.

But as soon as the man turned and did a double-take to look at Kyle, Kyle’s mouth fell open. Shock pulsed through him, ice cold like frost had just been injected into his veins. He had half a mind to think he was dreaming and another half to wonder if hangovers could cause hallucinations.

“Oh there he is,” the familiar stranger said as a smile spread across their face, showing off their pearly whites. Kyle couldn’t help but stand rooted on the stairs, blinking like his vision would fix itself suddenly, like the man in front of him would turn back to Mr. Bennet. As if the man who stood at the base of the steps was going to stop, looking like the man staring up at him, Chris Pratt. “You alright son?” 

Kyle felt his brain short-circuit.

“I…” There was a sudden heat across his cheeks. This had to be a prank show. He saw something like that on Amazon, some man who thought he was going to be in jury duty but it was actually secretly recorded. This would have to be one of those, he thought to himself. But as he waited, there were no cameras that came out or any host clapping and laughing away. 

“Son?” “Chris,” was all Kyle could reply, taking a cautious step forward. 

“Uh yep that’s my name. You alright, sonny? You look a little pale. Didn’t you say there was an office party or…” “Chris…” Kyle replied, feeling dumb as he stepped around his neighbour, staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at them in morbid fascination. “You’re Chris Pratt.” The man just smiled at him even brighter.

“Sure am! Why?” Why? Kyle couldn’t even begin to list the number of reasons why as he backed up and clipped the apartment mailbox that jutted out of the wall. As he did, his eyes did a double-take over it. Usually, the place was bad at updating the names; some old, some new, some were just blank. But no matter what apartment number, Kyle could see all the names listed: CHRIS. C. PRATT. CHRIS PRATT. MR. PRATT. CHRIS. CHRISTOPHER. PRATT. CHRIS PRATT. KYLE. 

All the same name in different variations and lettering again and again and again until it was his. He could hear Chris say something again and any other day, he would have jumped at joy to meet his celebrity crush. Perhaps it was the anxiety from last night, but all he could feel was horror before he stepped out of his apartment to breathe. But it wasn’t any easier to do so. Before him was the busy and bustling outside of his city and everywhere he looked, there he was, Chris. 

“Hi Chris!”

“Hi Chris!”

Two dogwalkers who looked identical to one another waved at each other as they walked by, dressed in the same outfit of polo shirts, shorts, and trainers but with different colours. 

“Good morning Chris!” “How are ya doing Chris?”

Kyle looked on, seeing a Cop Chris Pratt dressed in a tight dark blue uniform laughing as he crossed the street toward a man hosing down the front of a cafe. Then he watched the man get into a police car, where an identical Cop Chris Pratt sat waiting for the coffee. The first was carrying. The two of them smiled at each other and relaxed as they drank at the same time.

The cafe owner, Barista Chris, wore a green apron stretched across a broad chest with shirt sleeves rolled casually to the elbows and exposing his thick forearms.

He waved over towards Mailman Chris Pratt, who was walking by in a pastel blue uniform: starch shirt, tight shorts, boots, and cap. They greeted each other like old friends, both flashing the same easy grin, the same squint around the eyes, the same cheesy cute confidence Kyle had spent years quietly obsessing over from afar. Except it wasn’t far, now it was everywhere.

His body moved on its own as his mind reeled. He felt like he was being puppeteered on his walk to work whilst he was scanning the streets for all the different variations of the same Chris. Construction Chris Pratt barked out laughter among some others, skin slick with sweat and shirt smudged with stains, as his auburn hair was beneath a hard hat. Cyclist Chris Pratt breezed past him down the street, his muscular body trapped in lycra, with his rear held out above the seat, poking out. Kyle stared, distracted by the thick ass coated in spandex. A Business Chris Pratt hurried past him with a briefcase and a loose tie, speaking animatedly into a phone. If it were in a movie, Kyle would have thought it was just another endearing character played by his favourite actor. 

No matter what different Chrises he came across, they were all friendly. All of them stopped and spoke to each other or waved and greeted one another whenever they could: “Hi Chris!” “Hi Chris!” “How are ya Chris?” “Good Chris!” “You’re looking good Chris!”

“So are you Chris?”

Kyle’s chest tightened, hearing the exact same deep voice everywhere he went. All the voices overlapped with an uncanny familiarity, making the city sound like Chris Pratt interviews playing from a hundred televisions at once. But it was more than just the people; the city itself had been warped. The buildings were all familiar, yet they were all different. His local cafe on the way to work was no longer Bean There, Done That but PRATT’S ROAST with a massive mural painted on the side: Chris Pratt holding a coffee cup with a smile. The gym across the street had turned into CHRISFITT.

Kyle had taken the long way to work, only another couple minutes, but one that passed by the theatre. His curiosity got the better of him as he wanted to see what a world of Chris Pratt movies looked like as he scanned the marquee:

GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY VI: RETURN OF STAR-LORD JURASSIC WORLD 9 THE SUPER MARIO BROS. MOVIE 5 PRATT IDENTITY

Before him, he saw different Chrises enter and leave the theatre, none the wiser. As soon as he turned to leave, he looked at a bus passing by with a poster of Chris Pratt, bearded and in flannel, carrying an axe. The background was a mountain and beside him was a floating bottle of cologne with text underneath: RAW. WARM. CHRIS. 

Oh my god, Kyle thought with wide eyes. My job! He rushed over to the office building, getting there in time like he had taken a shortcut instead of the long way, as he stared up at the words above the glass door: PRATT FINANCIALS. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck…” muttered under his breath as he pushed through the revolving glass doors, nearly colliding with someone on the way in. He said someone, he knew who or what it was, another Chris: charcoal suit, tailored sleeves, tight tie. 

“Woah careful dude-” “Yeah sorry Chris,” grunted Kyle, hearing the man behind him.

“All good- Wait how did you know my name-” Kyle skidded to a stop at the company directory behind reception (ignoring Receptionist Chris, suited and with thick rimmed glasses): PRATT FINANCIALS (Floor 8), PRATT LEGAL (Floor 10), PRATT & PRATT CONSULTING (Floor 15)...

On and on it went as the same name repeated endlessly in different fonts and logos across the entire illuminated board. That’s when he saw the next Chris and paused because he recognised this one, or rather, specifically who they were meant to be. He could see the same pierced ear, the same exact reusable coffee cup, even the same ‘lucky tie’ that he found out about on Truth or Dare. 

Oh my god. 

It was Derek, or rather-

“Hi Chris!” For the first time, someone had used that greeting on him, as Derek Chris turned to look at Kyle. Kyle pointed at himself in confusion, seeing Derek Chris giggle. “Yeah, you dude. Who else would I be talking to?” Kyle looked at the lobby full of different Chrises, including the receptionist right behind him.

“Uh…”

“So come on, man, we gotta go. Big meeting, remember?” Derek Chris took Kyle by the shoulder and started the walk towards the elevator. Kyle suddenly couldn’t focus, being so close to Chris, as he took in the sharp scent of cologne that battled with lingering alcohol and musk. The cologne smelled earthy, and he wondered if it was the same one he had seen advertised before.

Kyle had seen so many walls of muscles walking around, but now he felt like he was almost melting into their touch. To tell the truth, he always had a slight crush on Derek.

It’s what made last night hit even harder, to be judged by him of all people. To see Derek like this, all goofy grins and huge muscles and just the warm, approachable vibe of Chris made something else in Kyle melt. All the safety he had felt he had lost last night suddenly returned tenfold as he only realised as they waited in the elevator, that Derek Chris still held him.

“Uh…so about last night, dude, I…I’m sorry about that. I just never had anyone admit I was their crush.”

Kyle blinked.

Crush?

Wait…

“Oh, wait, Chris, I-” “Shh dude, just lemme talk. When you said you had a crush on Chris last night, I thought you meant Chris from Accounting or like Chris from HR, but then you said Pratt, and I knew you meant me.” “I mean, Chris, they’re all-” “Shh, seriously. So uh, I just wanna say thanks and uh…well, to do this-” “Wh-” Chris suddenly kissed Kyle. One large hand remained curled around Kyle’s shoulder while the other came up instinctively to steady his waist, pulling him gently closer as their mouths met. Kyle made a startled sound against the kiss, his brain short-circuiting instantly beneath the overwhelming sensory overload of it all.

There was something telling him that this was wrong.

Maybe he had to find a way to stop all of this. That logically there couldn’t be a world full of the same Chris, and yet all those thoughts died when he felt his hand press against Chris’ chest, and he could feel all the firm and warm muscles. Chris kissed him again, smiling before the elevator dinged and the two parted. 

“There he is,” said Derek Chris with the same goofy grin Kyle had come to love on the real Chris Pratt. “Hey, uh, I’ll see you later. How about lunch?” Derek Chris asked as he and Kyle stepped off the elevator, and Kyle blinked, his brain still needing a minute to catch up.

“Uh sure…” 

“Awesome. It’s a date.” A date? Kyle didn’t know his face could get any hotter. “See ya around, Chris!” Then he blinked again. All previous thoughts and feelings had come back to him, worried about the state of the world, worried about how long it could keep up with this many Chrises. But most of all worried about one thing. If he were the only person unaffected, how long would that last?

His eyes widened suddenly as his mouth forced itself into a grin; a goofy grin. Oh no no no wait no I’m- I’m…

“Sure thing, Chris!” Kyle CHRIS replied with a wide smile as his teeth began to straighten and all his thoughts melted away. The only thing he could focus on wasn’t his growing feet or stretching body. It was how much he looked forward to his date with Chris.

Ah…Chris and Chris…We’ll be the best couple in the office, he giggled, even as his wide eyes were filled with fear, and looking around. All he could do was smile and carry on to his desk, helpfully marked Kyle CHRIS PRATT.

GAY GHOST RESORT - PERFECT OPPORTUNITY

So this guy was the perfect build. I took him over the moment he made it to his room. He would never wear this speedo. Had to buy it and put it on though. It had to try to not jerk it till my husband found a body. So I sat at the pool and waited

"Hey there handsome" a man walked up to me and said. He instantly kissed me and i knew it was the hubby. We eventually broke the kiss

"Your room or mine" he asked.

"Mine" I said in my deep voice "mines bigger "

"I hope so" said my husband while rubbing his new body