Genie’s Wish

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Genie’s Wish

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Time for some mountain climbing
this time last year, Steven would’ve been hitting the town with the boys, sinking drinks like there was no tomorrow, touching up girls in the clubs.
Now? Now he’s at home, the twins are crying in the room next door and his tits are responding by leaking milk. His ass is itching for the next brood, and he is sinking into motherhood.
Sir started training my tits long before he actually got me pregnant. I produced about 800mls a day under his diet and excercise regime. It was so strange being so masc to the world and going home at the end of each day to strip naked and get drained dry by another dude.
After a few months of continuous milking, I was begging him to put a baby in me. He made my wish come true and put two in me instead
Hard to believe that this was me six months ago! Sir has had me on a regime of dick shrinkers, milk enhancers and IQ droppers.
Nowadays, my tits are four times bigger, swollen pale and blue with milk, my nipples large and dark, so eager of lips to suck from me.
my belly, tight and round protrudes from my midriff, shifting with His active babies.
My cock is now a useless two inches of meat, I haven’t got hard in months, and all of my orgasms have been coming from him fucking my ass.
He’s so proud of the mumma he’s made of me, thick and servile.
Brody spread his legs and let his best friends step dad fuck him raw. He never imagined 8 months later he’d be carrying that same step dad’s son and ready to give birth in a few weeks.
Mr Johnson liked how much my body was growing and bulging.
“Look at those tits, Brody!” He said, “It’s like your body has been waiting to grow a baby.”
He kissed down my neck, his hands moving between my breasts and the taught skin of my baby bump. My dick went hard, his fingers toying gently with my nipples. A groan escaped my lips.
There was a knock at the bedroom door. Mr Johnson continued to kiss me, grasping my tits more firmly. I squeaked with joy, his firm cock against my back.
“Hey Brody,” Sam called from outside, “Me and the boys are heading out for some pool, you wanna join?”
His dad massaged my tits, and just as I started to say “No Tha-“ he squeezed harshly and milk spurted out onto my belly.
Damn! This makes me want to write a story…

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Better With Brandon - Part 2
I honestly thought nothing would happen again between me and Brandon after that crazy fuck on the couch. When it was over and our skin cooled down, we put on our clothes and went back to watching the game. He didn’t say anything about it and neither did I.
By the next morning, it almost felt like it had never really happened. It was hazy and remote, like a strange, distant dream. I chalked the whole thing up to some kind of weird moment that comes out of the blue—one of those weird flashes of pheromones and chemistry that ignites in an instant and burns out just as fast.
But less than 24 hours later, Brandon came up from behind as I was bent over unloading the dishwasher. He put his hands on my hips and started pressing his crotch into my backside.
“Mmmm,” he murmured.
He leaned down and laid his chest across my back.
“Sorry, but it looked so good,” he whispered into my neck. “I had to touch. And feel. Maybe we should repeat what we did yesterday.”
I don’t know what I said in response. Probably none of the things a wiser man would have said. Because within minutes, Brandon had my pants at my ankles and he was dragging his cock back and forth between my cheeks. His flared cockhead scraped my hole. Then two quick pumps of Ivory Liquid from the dispenser on the counter and he was inside me.
It was quicker and easier this time. Smooth, like it was practiced and natural. It’s crazy to say that, because I was still wigged out by the reality of bending over for my son. But he was a carefree jock who didn’t stop to think about any of that. He just fucked and kissed and went on with his life. And because it felt good—really good, despite the whole thing being so unexpected—I went on with it too.
After that it became something very regular, almost something unremarkable that we’d do—without either of us really talking about it. We just carried on with our normal lives. Me, the middle aged single dad, working 9-5 and offering his newly adult son a place for the summer. And Brandon, the fresh grad working full-time for the first time and crashing with me until he saved enough for his own place. That banal dynamic persisted.
But then there would be a change in the lighting, or a pause in the show we were watching, and I’d catch Brandon’s eyes on me. They’d have this look, deep and romantic. And just like that we’d start kissing. And the kissing would lead to fucking, which would lead us back to kissing…. It was a tight circle of activity and it could spiral for quite a while.
I should be clear that “us fucking” meant Brandon fucking me.
I did try to go after him one time. We were naked and rolling around, and I grabbed him by the hips, pulling his buns to my crotch and tapping my cock against his hole.
He swatted my hand away.
“Sorry,” I said to him. “I thought we might switch it up this time.”
“Yeah,” he said, grabbing my wrists and then flipping me over onto my back. He poked his cock between my thighs. “But this is working just fine as it is. Isn’t it, Dad?”
Brandon said it in a steady, certain voice.
“Yeah, I guess it is,” I replied.
“Good.”
Brandon pulled my legs up onto his chest and pressed his fingers to my pucker, testing. Then he spit on his dick and pushed it in.
“Because I think this is great.”
“Yeah, me too,” I agreed.
It wasn’t a lie. I hadn’t felt like this in years.
***
I first thought the change between us was just sex, but of course there was more to it than that. We fucked regularly, and we kissed throughout it all. Deeply. Hungrily. Tenderly. That combo couldn’t help but change things.
First the kissing and touching spilled over into everyday life. It became routine for Brandon to grab me by the hip, or pat my behind, or give me a long, slow kiss—all in the middle of the day, disconnected from sex and for no reason at all. These actions were no longer reserved for foreplay; they had become everyday affection.
I have to say, I enjoyed it. I hadn’t done much dating since Brandon’s mother and I split, and it felt good to have someone paying that kind of attention to me. Someone noticing when I looked good in a shirt and encouraging me to change into a better one if I didn’t.
“The black shirt you wore yesterday looked much better on you,” he might remark. I’d go check in the bedroom mirror and realize Brandon was right.
We started hanging out together, and not only around the house.
“Where should we go this weekend?” I’d ask. “I can make plans, get us some reservations.”
Brandon always had ideas, and I enjoyed executing on them.
And sometimes we’d hang out with others. I liked how comfortable everyone was around Brandon. They had first met him as child, but everyone spoke to him differently now. They recognized him as an adult in his own right.
“Brandon, can the two of you come help with the fundraiser on the 5th? Starts early.”
“No problem,” Brandon said with easy confidence. “I’ll make sure this one”—he jabbed me with his elbow—is up and moving by 6:00. You can count on us.”
I liked that he was grounded, mature. He was growing into a fine young man. And that helped lighten the load around the house. He wasn’t a wastrel son to support like some of my friends had. If anything, Brandon supported me as much as I supported him. We just did it in different ways.
I cooked most of the meals because I had more experience in the kitchen. And I loved that any time I asked him “What do you want for dinner?” Brandon always had a new challenge for me.
I shared my login with him and Brandon starting handling the bank account, the bill pays, my investments. He had been an Econ major, he was interested in finance, and he was working as a junior associate in a financial firm.
So it was complementary. Everything even and balanced in its own way.
I suppose it was about making things even when Brandon emptied half the drawers in the my bedroom and moved his stuff in. We had been sleeping together most nights, and it was awkward for him to continually run across the hall to his childhood room, with its narrow dresser and tiny single bed.
I was OK with my stuff being crammed into a smaller space; I didn’t mind the congestion. I was due to go through everything and thin stuff out anyway. I guess it was a welcome prompt.
But he did take my side of the bed. Without asking. The one I’d slept on for years and years.
Apparently it was his preferred side too.
After sex we’d pull apart and he’d roll me to one side and him to the other. He’d turn his head to kiss me again once before he fell asleep, snoring, on what had been my side of the bed.
But relationships entail compromise and they bring change, right? So this was to be expected.
“I mean, this is getting to be kind of like a relationship, right?” I asked Brandon one day.
I don’t know why I said it. I guess I was just feeling a little fragile in that moment.
“Like?” he asked. He put his arms around my waist and pulled me in close. “No. This is totally a relationship. The best there could be.”
I kissed him back, relieved. Then I wondered for an instant when my peace of mind had gotten so caught up in Brandon and what he thought.
“Why do you even worry, Dad?”
He placed a finger on my lips as if to shush me, then he leaned in, removing his finger at the last second and replacing it with his lips.
“Do you need some extra lovin’ tonight?” Brandon’s hands glided over the curve of my ass cheeks. “I can give you what you need.”
I nodded.
“Don’t worry, Dad,” Brandon said, catching my chin with his fingers. “I love you so much. You’ll always be my best boy.”
I nodded again.
His smile arched into a smirk.
“Now get back on that bed. On your back, legs up. Get nice and open for me.”
My son fucked me until I forgot my fears, until there was nothing left but my whimpering into the pillow.
***
And without my even intending it, Brandon and I were together. We didn’t directly tell anyone, but they could see it. And they saw it well enough to know how it all worked.
When the doorbell rang, Brandon asked, “You ready, Dad?”
I nodded and he stopped to straighten my collar.
“Don’t be nervous, you look great.”
Some of Brandon’s friends were coming to dinner, along with a few of mine. We usually saw everyone separately but the time had come to meld our friend groups.
During their arrivals, Brandon changed the music.
The first playlist had been mine—old jazz standards playing through the speakers while I finished the risotto. At some point Brandon wandered through the kitchen, kissed the side of my head, and quietly changed it to something more upbeat and modern.
Nobody objected. Including me.
The apartment filled gradually. Michael and his husband arrived first, carrying wine. Allison and Stu from Brandon’s office. Then Greg and David, friends I’d known for nearly twenty years.
At 46, I was the oldest person in the room. Most of the gray hair belonged to my friends. Most of the energy belonged to Brandon.
He stood near the island talking to Allison, one hand wrapped around a beer bottle, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Every few minutes someone interrupted him with a question.
Where were the extra glasses?
What was in these appetizers?
Had he seen the game last weekend?
People treated him as the host. Even though we both were. Even though it was my house. Even though most of the guests had known me for years.
None of that mattered.
“Need anything?” I asked Brandon as I carried plates into the dining room.
Brandon looked up.
“Yeah. Can you go open the wine that’s meant for dinner? It should breathe a little.”
I smiled. “Sure.”
He gave me a little pat and went back to laughing with my friends. Telling a story about something funny I’d done a few days ago.
Half an hour later everyone was seated around the table.
I had spent most of the afternoon cooking. Brandon grabbed a knife and carved the roast.
Conversation moved from work gossip to politics to vacation plans.
At one point Greg leaned back in his chair and pointed his wine glass toward us.
“Oh, that reminds me.”
He turned to Brandon.
“Are you guys around Labor Day weekend?”
Brandon swallowed the rest of Cabernet and gestured at me to refill his glass.
“Maybe. Why?”
“We rented a house up in Sonoma. Couple of days. Pool, wineries, all of that.”
“Sounds fun.”
“You guys should come.”
I waited for Greg to turn toward me and get my take.
He continued talking to Brandon.
“We’ve got plenty of room. It would be great to have the two of you there.”
Brandon smiled.
“Sounds like fun. I’ll check the calendar.”
I opened my mouth to chime in and then closed it. Brandon hadn’t committed us, and maybe he had a reason for that. I’d ask him later.
The conversation moved on.
Ten minutes later Brandon reached across the table and stole the last
roasted potato from my plate.
I gave him a look.
He shrugged.
“You weren’t eating it.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It absolutely is.”
Everyone laughed.
“OK, OK, I’m not going to fight you over a potato.”
“Because you know I’ll win.”
More laughter.
I blushed. I felt a twinge of embarrassment but also a strange kind of pride.
After dessert, everyone drifted back into the living room. Brandon opened another bottle of wine and topped people off.
I was carrying plates back into the kitchen when I overheard Greg speaking quietly with Brandon near the bookshelf.
“He’s different around you,” Greg was saying, “Lighter. Happier.”
“Yeah. The divorce was hard on him, even a couple of years later. But I think we’re figuring things out now. He’s finally moving on.”
“You’re good for him, Brandon.”
“We’re good for each other,” Brandon said, looking over Greg’s shoulder and giving me a grin. “That’s how it’s supposed to be.”
I blushed again. I felt warm and content.
“Well, it’s nice to see it,” Greg responded.
Later, after the guests had gone and I washed up the pots and pans, Brandon came up behind me and slipped his hands around my waist.
“You did great tonight, Dad. The food was excellent and everyone had a great time.”
“Thanks to you. You kept everyone happy and drunk and laughing.”
He spun me around to face him.
“Yeah. We both have our roles. And we play them well. I appreciate that.”
He leaned in to nuzzle my neck. I wondered when my son had gotten so wise and confident.
But I didn’t stop to wonder why I needed that. I simply knew it was true.
Brandon kissed a little trail down my neck and started opening buttons. I shivered.
“You can leave the dishes,” he whispered hoarsely. “They can wait. I can’t.”
I nodded and let him pull me across the room, where he sat on a kitchen chair and pulled me into his lap. He pulled the shirt from my body and kissed the exposed skin, tenderly and with purpose. I could feel him swell down below.
I kissed back while my clumsy fingers fumbled with his shirt buttons. Eventually he took over, got his shirt off, and pressed our bare torsos together.
“You don’t think I’m too old for you?” I whispered.
“Old man, you are just right.”
He winked and I slid off the chair, came to my knees, opened his pants, and took him into my mouth.
Brandon’s dick was hard, in the way that a 22 year old is instantly ready for anything. Even so, I felt it swell bigger in my mouth, testing the limits of my throat.
“Keep going, Dad. Stay with me. I know you can take it all.”
I nodded and gulped him down deeper, inhaling the musky odor of his pubes.
He let me suck him until he was leaking like an old pipe about to burst. Then he pulled me up to standing, dropped my pants, and pushed me down over the back of the chair.
I gripped with my hands as his tongue dipped and dived between my cheeks, finding its way around my rosebud. It opened easily to him now; he had made me into the kind of eager bottom I had never expected to be.
I sighed with relief when he sunk his shaft into me. This is how I felt most alive now: speared on my son’s young, steel-hard dick.
He began to move. Hands on my hips, controlling my body and the rate of entry. Plunging in and pushing against my prostate in a steady rhythm.
Suddenly I flashed on a moment from earlier in the night. It rose up over my bliss and forced me to speak.
“Brandon.”
“Mmmhmmm.”
He didn’t stop his thrusts.
“Why didn’t you say yes to Sonoma?”
“I wanted to make sure it’s what you wanted for Labor Day weekend too.”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s what I want too.”
“Good.”
His thrusts got harder.
“Kind of hot that Greg didn’t even ask me.”
“I noticed that.”
He fucked harder.
“They all know.”
“Know what?”
Brandon was panting. A bead of sweat rolled off his pec and splashed onto my back.
“That I belong to you.”
Brandon grunted and fucked hard, like an animal, I pushed back more.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it, Dad?”
“Yes,” I whimpered.
His dick had swollen to an impossible girth, fully plugging my hole.
“You got it, babe.”
He leaned his sweaty chest onto my back and bit the side of my neck as his cock started pulsing, spilling his load into me. It was so warm.
“You’re mine,” he whispered. “Always and forever.”
I thought back to that strange moment months ago when we simply watching the game and Brandon leaned in to plant on a kiss on me.
My boy knew just what I needed. And he made it happen.
I knew I would follow his lead. Always and forever.
END
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I feel myself being folded in two, a cock pushes slowly at my hole, and then suddenly, all at once, is inside of me. It doesn't hurt, like I thought it would. Instead, I moan with pleasure.
Hands grabs me, a hand fondles my package, already much smaller and continuing to diminish. More will change in me before the end of the night.
There's a cock in my mouth, then another. I'm drenched in swear and cum, and piss I think. I do not know. I am lightheaded. I feel drunk and drugged. I giggle. I am drunk and drugged.
I notice that I do not have body hair anymore. I am smooth as a baby. I feel like I am watching someone else, as I am slowly being changed into the absolute faggot.
At some point someone puts a chastity cage over my newly tiny cock. I dont complain, dont stop it. I exist for the pleasure of others.
The night continues and I am lost in a sea of cocks and hands. At some point everyone at the party had a turn, and they start taking seconds, then thirds. My new mind start already to memorize the shape of their cocks, how they each like to be serviced.
Eventually one of my brother goes to sleep, and then another, and soon it's just me awake among a bunch of sleeping men. I feel calm. I feel horny. My hands slide on my new, smooth body, sticky from the night's adventure. I grasp my cage with one hand, and rub my new bubble ass with the other. Soon my fingers find my hole, permanently lubrified, always ready to be fucked.
I push them inside, rub my dick, moan as I try to cum from the action. No luck. I didnt expect much, but I had to try. It seems that everything they said was right. I can now only cum when I get the permission of a real man.
I let that thought swirls in my head a bit, trying to decipher what emotion it elicits in me. I'm not sure. It feels right tho.
I look at all my sleeping brother, wondering for a bit if I should find a place to lay down. But I'm not sleepy. I remember then that I'll never be sleepy again. One of the drug ensured that. From now on, they said, whenever I am not servicing one of my brother I am to clean the house and make myself useful.
I look at my sleeping brother, my eyes lingering on their cocks. My hole twitches, and I wish one of them was awake to fuck me again. But I shouldn't be selfish, this is not about me.
I step delicately around them, until I find my way to the basement, and start doing laundry. Once in a while, unable to stop myself, I bring my nose to one of the dirty underwear or sock that is laying there. It brings me calm, focus. I finally found my place.
Quickie Mart
“Alright sir, your total will be $134.18 today. Cash or Card?”
“Neither. I usually don’t need to pay for things like this.”
I was befuddled by the forwardness, “I’m sorry sir, but you are going to have to pay for your groceries today. Cash, card, or please get out of my line.”
“I’m sure we could come to an… arrangement.” In the middle of the store he took off his thin tee shirt.
He flashed a charming smile as he flexed his muscles, his torso on full display.
“I’m sorry sir, this is very inappropriate. I am refusing service. Please exit the store.”
“What, no one’s looking besides you. It’s just you and me right now baby,” his voice had gone low, smooth as silk, “come on, can’t you cut me a deal?” He practically shoved his musky body in my face. I felt a bead of sweat roll down my forehead. “You do me a favor, I’ll do one for you.”
Something about this felt strange. My face was flush as my clothes began to feel tight against my body. My polo suddenly was too warm, too tight, too scratchy against my body. My pants felt close to bursting. Even though my dick was straining against their right enclosure, begging to be set free, I felt the weight in my pocket more. My wallet was pressed tight against my thigh, a thick square almost squeezing out of my pocket. Unconsciously I had been tracing the outline.He had noticed.
“That’s it babe, pull it out.”
He shifted positions, placing his hand firmly on the wall behind me and began teasing. Treating me to a blast of his damp pits.
“Make your daddy proud.”
He was treating me like a child, “Please sir I-I”
“No please and begging babe. Just hand it over to me.”
I couldn’t resist any longer, “Ye-yes Sir.”
I was already holding the wallet. I fiddled for a card-
“The whole thing.”
I handed him my wallet. He flashed a winning grin as he pulled out my driver’s license.
“Awww, such a good photo of you babe.” He flicked the plastic back at me. The photo looked… wrong somehow. Too energetic. Too bright. But it was hard to focus. Under the heat of his presence and the heavy musk I was almost panting. He pulled out a green credit card.
“What’s my pin?”
I almost cried, “7352.”
“Good boy,” he swiped the card and took a step back. As the weight of him shifted I felt more relaxed, but somehow far emptier. “Young guys like you can’t be trusted with money anyways.”
A shiver ran down my spine, as my body stretched and settled. Energy pulsed through me. I hadn’t felt this way in years. “Would…would you like a receipt Sir?”
“No receipt. Thanks for asking. You’re such a good boy,” the words burned in my ears. I was sure I looked like a wide eyed fool, but I was waiting, hoping he would say…
“Oh, you can cum for me now.” He said it.
I felt a wave crash over my body as he said it. I ripped out of my shirt as I grasped for my dick, too late to stop the thick damp spot from forming on the front of my khakis.
“Hopefully that body reminds you of your Master.”
“Yes sir… thank you sir…”
“I will be keeping this.” He slid his wallet into his pocket, “And I expect to be able to use this whenever I need to.”
“Yes sir…” I watched as his beautiful body disappeared under his shirt again. Mine lay in tatters on the ground around me.
“Goodbye babe.” And with his dazzling smile he left.
“Thank you for shopping with us…” I shouted after him, far too loud and quickly.
As I looked around me, I couldn’t help but feel a deep shame and deep lust for what had just happened. My mind, body, and soul had realigned in just a few short minutes. There was only one question to ask myself,
“Shit… what am I going to tell my wife?”
A quickie I wrote this morning, let me all know if you like it. Thank you all for the support, notes, comments, reblogs, likes, etc.
“This device will give you MY intellect in exchange for some of your, uh… qualities. And your exam will be a piece of cake!”
Fountain of Reversal

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Online
I rushed back to the computer as I heard the notification. I had waited for a few days for the next stream, prepped with lotion and tissues.
"Yeah, you like it when I flex like this huh?"
============
My parents built their empire through hard work, so they tried to push me to work hard myself. Problem is, why should I? We're rich? I can be jobless for 100 years and still fly private jets each day. I resisted in every turn, but they got me by the end.
They passed away, and the requirement for me to get my inheritance is to work and do it successfully. So I chose the most fun job I can think of, streaming.
I bought the most expensive rig money can buy and just started going at it. Problem is, I wasn't getting as much money as is required by the will, and the deadline was getting closer. So, I made a shortcut.
I knew that to succeed easily, I had to be either a hot girl or man. I wasn't about to get myself new tits, so I chose to be as masculine as science permits. With a promise of hefty investment, a startup designed a custom enhancement to do just that. One which arrived the same day it was packed in europe. One which has apparently been consumed by the maid/adopted son.
Luis was an orphan that my parents took in during one of their trips to the third world. He's not exactly treated as an equal, but what did he expect? He's not blood. He's lucky my parents set him some money aside for school and that he's still living in MY mansion. Now he dares to steal my stuff.
I can hear the grunts coming from the state-of-the-art gym I built for what should've been my new body.
"Luis! Who gave you permission to take my shit?! You're fucking out I tell you! Out! Get the fuck o-"
I turn the corner only to be face-to-tit with the new Luis. Right away, I can smell the wafting man musk of the alpha body, a trait the company promised would be extra potent. I have met kings, billionares, and even secret trillionares, but this is truly the first time I felt inferior. A booming voice orders:
"Lick."
================
It wasn't hard to transfer my rights according to the will to him. He still had to work as was stipulated, but his streams got viral within seconds, so he got my his money pretty easily. He still streams for the fun of it, doing it from my old room while I pitifully watch from my new room, the tool shack right next to the pool.
"Another donation world record broke! You all know I don't need the money, yet you still send it to me. I don't care though, keep sending me more next time. Pitiful fucks."
Offline
I nearly emptied my box of tissues just in a one hour stream. Pretty much everyone watching does that it has become an accepted term, "Luis Effect."
I had no time to recover as a text came, ordering me to go with him. Probably to parade me around in his company as the founders' son turned faggot. No matter though, orders are orders.
I entered my old favorite car only to be greeted by him, shirtless and sweaty. A typical sight of him after his streams. His smell easily enveloped the confines of the car.
"I bought the startup that made me the worlds' alpha. Now they say they have prepped a drug at least 100 times more potent. Ready to watch me ascend fag?"
I spurted without help, muffled by the sound of the supercar roaring. I have always been resentful inside, but now even my inner voice tells me it's fate. It is fate that my parents got rich, it is fate that I was born, it is fate for Luis to be adopted, it is fate that Luis becomes the alpha... all for him, the formerly scrawny hispanic, to take his true place.
The Transfer Auction 1 - Vince
Once every month, late on the first Sunday evening, an auction would be held. But this was no ordinary auction. It was held at a secret location that only few knew about. Those people were either those that were extremely wealthy or those who were brought to the auction to ‘compete’. It took place in a rather large showroom with a huge luxurious stage at front. There were multiple rows of chairs seated before the stage, many of which were already filled by those eager for the show to start. As this was the men’s auction, naturally the entire crowd was made of rich men. The kind of rich you’d be able to sense at a single glance. High end tailored suits, designer clothes, expensive watches. The type of men that could spend thousands and hardly bat an eye. And yet, because of its unique and fascinating nature, this auction had drawn them all here. Because at this auction they could buy something they wouldn’t be able to buy anywhere else. So naturally when the lights dimmed, the crowd erupted with applause while a man made his way to the left side of the stage where the podium sat.
“Good evening everyone! My name is Gavin Alexander and I’ll be your host for the night!” He announced via the microphone.
“I can’t help but notice just how many of you there are so I suppose it’s only appropriate for me to say that this is a private event. AKA don’t be telling any poor folk about where we’re situated.” He laughed, getting a chuckle out of the small crowd. “But seriously, don’t. If we have to deal with the public then that means less fun for all of us!” He added, to which the audience murmured in agreement. “However, with that out of the way, let’s get this show started!” The crowd applauded once more as the stage lit up with spotlights, preparing for what was to come.
Moments later a group of ten men came onto stage, all in nothing but tight speedo and a number so that nothing was left to the imagination. The men varied slightly in age with the youngest looking around 20 years old and the oldest seeming to be in his 40’s. They also varied in height, appearance and race but the one thing that remained consistent throughout all ten men was that they were in great shape. Some of them were huge bodybuilder size, some were super lean with defined abs while others sat somewhere in between. Regardless, they were hunks to say the least.
The host walked over towards the first man in line. “As some of you may already know, this first group of men are our professionals. This means they’ll have a few guidelines which they’ll share with you as we proceed. After this our second group of men will be our criminal group who’ve been ordered to take part in addition to their sentences. As such these men don’t have the luxury of setting guidelines and so everything is up for grabs with them.” He stated clearly with a wide smile before making his way across the stage to the first hunk in line. “Now, to our first professional of the night, Mr Chase Adams! What are your terms?” He asked
“Well I’m cool with transferring muscle, body fat, hair and all that stuff. Only things that are off the table for me I’d say are genitals and anything to do with my face.” Chase listed off and as soon as he did the bidding began at around 400 grand. Many of the spectators eager to win a chance to ‘transfer’ with the well proportioned, fair skinned hunk. But one man in the crowd wasn’t the least bit interested in Chase.
Vince Hamlin. He wore a casual grey suit that hugged his lean form and honestly made him seem a little underdressed when compared to some of the other men in the audience. He was easily identifiable by his bald head while also keeping a nicely trimmed beard that framed his handsome looks perfectly. Vince sighed as he waited for the bidding of Chase to come to a close. The quicker they got to the sixth man in line, the better. Number six was only one Vince really had his eye on.
For the next half an hour or so Vince sat either on his phone or using his bidding paddle as a fan while he waited. Watched as the host defended down the line of hunks. The one after Chase was an asian man who had the face of a super model with an incredible swimmer's body. After him was another white dude who was the smallest of the bunch and prided himself on being so thin and lean. Vince couldn’t help noticing how more of the overweight men in the crowd began bidding once the guy mentioned body fat transferral was on the table. At last however he found himself sitting up a little straighter when the host finally approached the sixth man in line.
“Next up is Mr Darius Crawford and by the looks of it he’s our biggest man here tonight! But before we start fighting over him, what are your terms Mr Crawford?” He asked the hunk.
Just as the host had said, Darius was easily the largest contestant out of the group. He was huge all over with massive imposing muscles along with rich ebony skin and dark hair, not to mention being incredibly tall. Some of the gay men in the crowd were practically drooling at his mere presence, Vince included though he tried to hide it. “For me, the things that are off limits are my genitals, my race and my age in either direction. Besides that everything else is up for grabs.” He spoke with a deep, masculine tone into the mic before giving a thumbs up to the audience.
“You heard him folks!” The host said as he turned towards the audience again. “Now how about we start the bidding at… let’s say Six Hundred Grand? That sound fair Darius?” He turned back towards the bodybuilder who gave a satisfactory nod. “Six Hundred Grand it is!”
Right away people in the crowd began raising their paddles. 650K, 700K, 800K, 950K! The number kept rising and it was no surprise considering Darius seemed to be the grand prize of tonight’s professional selection. Just as the numbers were reaching the mid one millions however, Vince raised his paddle and shouted “Four Million!” There were a few glances in his direction, people slightly surprised at the sudden jump in bid.
“Going once!” The host beamed in Damian’s direction. “Going Twice!” He added. “Any more bid’s!? This is your last chance! Goin-” before he could finish he was interrupted by another bidder.
“Five Million!” Shouted a 60-something year old man.
“Seven Million!” Another one screamed with his paddle in the air.
“Twelve Million!!!” One more chimed in.
These bidders were persistent. More so than Vince had expected. Then again most of them are middle aged dudes with far too much money on their hands so he should’ve anticipated this. What he’d thought might’ve scared the other bidders off had only made them more desperate as the numbers only went into higher and higher millions. And so with a big sigh he threw his paddle up again and shouted “TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY MILLION!!!”
The host and the audience were stunned. “T-two hundred and fifty… million? I don’t think we’ve ever had a bid that high on one person before.” The host muttered before quickly trying to regain his composure. “Going once!” He began. “Going Twice! Any last competitor’s?!” There was a brief moment of silence and… nothing. “Sold! To the handsome gentleman in the grey suit!” He announced proudly with wonder in his voice.
Damian practically fell back into his seat, grateful that he didn’t have to increase his bid any higher. “Fuck this had better be worth it…” he grumbled to himself before resigning to sit through the remaining men on stage.
After that the bidding returned to normal. The host continued down the line of remaining hunks on the stage as each of them sold for a decent price around a million or so but none bothered to bid much higher. After all, everyone could tell Darius was the biggest prise to be won, literally, and Damian had already secured that bag. And so it wasn’t long before the tenth and final man in line was sold meaning the show could continue on to its next phase.
“Alright everyone! That’s all of our professionals tonight!” The host announced. “They’ll all be ready and waiting for those of you that one the bids but before that we have our second wave of men!” With that the professional made their way off stage to make room for the next group. Moments later ten more men were escorted on stage by the security. Like the professionals they were clad in nothing but speedos however, unlike the professionals, not all of them had huge sculpted physiques to show off. Two of them had decently impressive bodies but the rest varied. Some of them just looked average while a couple were slightly overweight. One of them was just a straight up bear with how huge and hairy he was. “Here we have tonight’s criminal selection! As previously mentioned these are men who’ve been ordered to be here by the court as part of their sentences which means anything is up for grabs!” It wasn’t surprising to Vince that this group had to be practically dragged on stage. There was no way in hell they wanted to be here but then again it was their own faults…
The bidding began with the host introducing the first criminal in line but Vince wasn’t the least bit interested. He’d already gotten what he came for so he pretty much just zoned out for the rest of the bidding. Most of the criminals had much lower starting bids than the professionals due to them not being in quite as peak physical condition. The two fittest men out of the group certainly had the highest bids to begin with them both starting at 100K. The bearish man however, though his starting bid was relatively low at around 40K, the audience got surprisingly competitive. In the end he was sold for a whopping Eight Million. Vince supposed some people in the crowd were quite eager to look a little more butch…
Eventually the tenth man of the criminal group was sold, much to Vince and every other winner’s delight. “And with that, the bidding part of tonight’s event comes to close!” The host stated. “Those of you who won the bids, please allow members of our staff to escort you to where you need to be. Everyone else feel free to help yourselves to the buffet. There’s plenty of food and drinks that are all on the house as a thank you from us for attending tonight!”
Vince got up from his chair and made his way over towards a group of staff with the other winners. The staff checked the numbers and each winner’s paddle to make sure everything was in order. Once that was taken care of they were led through a pair of double doors and down a long corridor with ten rooms on each side. Rooms 1A and 1B came first, on the left and right of the corridor respectively. The winner of the first professional bid was taken into 1A while the winner of the first criminal bid was taken into 1B. This pattern continued down the hallway with winners being taken into rooms that corresponded with whichever bid they’d won until they finally reached rooms 6A and 6B.
“Right this way sir.” One of the staff kindly ushered Vince towards 6A while the remaining winners continued down the hallway. Once inside he was shocked by the large futuristic looking machine that took up most of the room. It was a massive device that was connected to two chairs, both of which seemed to have some kind of helmet above them that was directly wired to the machine. He’d never seen anything quite like it… and they had at least twenty of these things?? It was only then that he finally noticed Darius, the gigantic hunk he’d won in the bid. He’d been sat patiently waiting since the professional bid ended and was eager to get up and greet Vince.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr…?” Darius began, holding out a large hand.
“Mr Hamlin. But you can just call me Vince.” The rich man responded before shaking Darius’s hand. “So I assume you’ve done this before?”
“Once yeah. A couple years ago.” Darius confirmed. “It didn’t hurt or anything. You just feel a bit weird for a while after as you try to adjust.” He explained rather nonchalantly. “And thank you by the way. I never imagined someone would bid that much for me. I know the organisers take 40% but that’s still one hundred and fifty million my way… I can’t thank you enough.”
Vince smirked as his eyes scanned over the hulking man’s form once again. “Your body is all the thanks I need.” He then turned his attention to the staff in the room with them. “So what’s next?” He asked. The staff explained that all they needed to do now was agree on what was being transferred. After that they just needed to get seated and the machine would do the rest.
“So what’s it gonna be?” The hunk prompted, taking a couple steps back to allow Vince a chance to take in everything that was up for offer.
“Your muscle. I want as much of it as you can give.” Vince didn’t hesitate for a second. He knew exactly what he wanted and who could blame him. Darius was a monster with how massive he was. “It’s always been a dream of mine to be huge like you. I’ve worked out a lot over the years but I’ve always struggled to put on any decent size. But now… suddenly it’s all possible.” Vince had to try and stop himself from salivating over the pure adonis before him. If he hadn’t been imagining having all that muscle for himself, he’d have been picturing himself fucking Darius’s huge muscle ass instead. If he didn’t have so much restraint he’d certainly have a boner right now.
Darius didn’t mind the lustful stares the other man was giving him. He wasn’t gay but, with how much this guy was paying him, he couldn’t really complain. “Yeah I figured you’d say that. I am pretty huge huh?” He gave one of arms a quick flex. “Was there anything else you had in mind?”
Vince thought about it for a second as he looked up at the giant before him. That’s when it hit. “How about some of your height as well? I’m 5’10 but I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to be over 6 foot and you look like you’ve got plenty to spare.”
He wasn’t wrong. Last he’d checked Darius was about 6’5 and was usually one of, if not, *the* tallest man in a room. “Depends. How much you thinkin’?”
“How does 5 inches sound?”
Darius went back and forth in his head for a moment. 5 inches wasn’t too much right? He’d still be about 6 foot afterwards… “Alright, fine. 5 inches. But no more!” Darius put his foot down on that. He might’ve been getting paid a lot but he wasn’t about to drop down to 5’11 or below. He was a tall fucker and he wanted it to stay that way. Thankfully Vince seemed more than satisfied with that.
Just then some of the staff chimed in. “Alright so we’ve got 5 inches of height and as much muscle as can be safely transferred. Is there anything else you want to request, Mr Hamlin?” Some of them were already inputting settings into the machine regarding his previous requests.
Vince thought for a second. Tall and muscular, what more could he want? He was about to say that was all until his eyes nestled onto Darius’s bulge. “Well… I know on stage you said it was off limits but I was wondering…”
“Nope. Not happening.” Darius didn’t even need to hear the rest to know exactly what Vince was about to ask. “Sorry man. My girl doesn’t care how huge and buff I am but she loves my big dick. Can’t help you I’m afraid.”
For a moment Vince thought of offering Darius a little extra money in exchange but he could tell just by the look on the hunks face that it wasn’t going to happen. Or at least Darius wasn’t going to agree with it anyway. Luckily for Vince he had a backup plan… “Oh alright. Just muscle and height it is.” He waved his hands about a little before turning to the staff. “I suppose we’re ready now.”
Once all was decided both Darius and Vince were made to sign a few documents confirming that they both consented to the transfer and that Vince would pay his fee afterwards or would be reprimanded accordingly. And once that was taken care of, they were taken back over to the machine…
As the pair of them were getting strapped into the chairs however, Vince whispered to the man that was doing his chair. “Hey. I’ve got a deal for ya.” As quickly and quietly as possible, Vince proposed that he would give the man and his co-workers in the room a hefty amount of money if they agreed to transfer some of Darius dick size to him. The man gave him an awkward look for a second, his moral compass clearly being challenged, but soon enough he agreed.
Before long both Vince and Darius had the helmets placed on their heads, ready for the transfer. It took quite a while for the machine to actually boot up. Vince could only assume this was due to the staff members negotiating the deal he’d offered. He could only hope they’d make the right decision. Eventually there was a loud engine-like sound as the machine roared to life. For a moment Vince didn’t feel anything besides the buzzing of the huge device behind him so he was taken by surprise when a bolt of energy from the helmet came surging through his body. It was an almost indescribable feeling, as though he was being filled with electricity but instead of being frying him to a crisp it was energising him instead! It felt… exhilarating! So much so that he didn’t even realise the transfer was already taking place.
Slowly but surely Darius’s muscle mass began to decrease. His arms getting smaller, his huge chest deflating, his legs shrinking. With every second that passed he lost more and more size. All of that muscle he’d worked tirelessly to gain swiftly vanished along with all the strength that came along with it. All of it being converted into pure energy that was processed by the machine. Before long Darius was a far cry of his former self, looking thin lanky rather than imposing.
Of course all that energy had to go somewhere and that place was Vince. As soon as the machine had finished absorbing Darius’s muscle, it began pumping all of that energy into Vince’s body. He felt it immediately. A burgeoning power growing inside him. Gradually his body started to inflate with new muscle. His biceps and triceps expanding with newfound size as his back and chest started to broaden. Even his thighs and calves began to thicken significantly by the second. Before long ripping sounds could be heard coming from Vince’s suit.
His jacket was the first to give in as the sleeves started to tear under the pressure of his growing shoulders and biceps. The sound alone was music to his ears. Vince couldn’t actually see what was going on due to the helmet but the tearing of his clothes was a good indicator of how big he was getting! His upper body continued to broaden and expand, causing his jacket to pretty much explode apart at this point, revealing the already ripping shirt underneath which no doubt wouldn’t last long. But before it had the chance, his quads had the honour of bursting through his suit pants in all their glory, their sheer mass not wanting to be contained any longer. And not a moment later the top button on his pants came flying off as well as his hips and waist grew thicker. But not as thick as his ass. Vince’s once average butt ballooned to a colossal size, practically elevating him in his chair with its mass and giving him a nice round bubble butt just like Darius once had. Soon after he couldn’t help but let out a grunt as his chest heaved forwards, two massive pecs forming at last and being the final straw that caused his shirt to tear apart at last.
But of course just because Vince’s clothes were in tatters didn’t mean the growth was about to stop there. His body kept expanding, growing even larger with muscle. His thighs had grown so thick that it was impossible for them to not rub against one another. And that’s not to mention how ridiculously swole his upper body now looked. By the time the machine had finally run out of energy to pump into Vince’s body, his muscles looked engorged with unbelievable size and strength. No wonder since it was cramming all the muscle of a 6’5 man into 5’10 body. He was so swole now he’d hardly be able to move properly. But of course that had been accounted for and was about to change with the next transfer.
The machine returned its attention to Darius once again, sucking even more energy out of him. Only this time instead of taking his muscle, it was slowly shrinking his body in another way. His limbs and torso all diminished until his height had reduced its way down to 6 foot exactly. On the plus side for Darius, his body didn’t look quite lanky now as it had moments ago.
Of course once this was done the energy was once again redirected towards Vince. He felt the energy filling him once again, only this time it felt a little different. Instead of expanding, he felt himself stretching out instead! His arms and legs all grew longer as his height increased, finally coming to a haunt once Vince reached an impressive 6’3. Simultaneously the muscle he’d gained moments prior was now able to spread itself out a little bit better across his larger frame.
Now was the moment of truth. Had that bribe been enough to get Vince the last thing he wanted? There was silence for a moment as if the staff were still debating amongst themselves on what to do. For a second Vince was worried his little plan had failed. That is until the machine roared to life one more time…
“Hey uhhh… sorry you two but we just need to make sure there’s no ummm… imbalance between you two before we shut this thing down.” Said a voice over the speaker.
Darius was of course none the wiser but Vince knew exactly what that meant. Slowly and carefully so that he wouldn’t notice, the machine started sucking more energy out of Darius. Unbeknownst to the professional, his penis was gradually getting smaller until it had lost about 3 inches of its size. When the machine turned on Vince however, it made the transfer nice and fast. Within second he felt his cock inflate, going from an average 5 inch cock to an impressive 8 incher with some added girth to top it off. The rich, conniving man couldn’t help but grin maliciously.
A few minutes later the transfer machine was powered down properly before the staff returned to remove the helmets. As soon as they did, Vince looked down at himself in wonder. His body. It was everything he’d ever dreamed. Gigantic in every sense of the word with bulging muscle all over! He then glanced over at Darius who looked tiny in comparison. The intimidating bodybuilder he once was now replaced by an average skinny looking dude.
As soon as his restraints were removed, Vince tore away the remaining shreds of clothes leaving him in nothing but his dress shoes, socks and underwear. The latter of which was struggling against all hell to contain his cock and ass right now. But he wasn’t concerned about that right now. All he cared about was how fucking massive he was!
The very first thing Vince did was lift his hands up to grope his pecs, squeezing the muscle with pure wonder. They felt so soft yet when he tensed his pecs they became firm and hard. After that he bent forwards slightly and flexed both his arms together, feeling as they bulged with strength. His biceps looked like mountains on his arms as they peaked with insane size that not many would be able to match. And his lats… they were enormous! Even pushing his huge arms permanently out to the sides, giving him more of a natural alpha stance. It was incredible. He *felt* incredible!
Before Vince could continue exploring his god-like build however, one of the staff members stepped up carrying a pair of large black boxer briefs, some white joggers and a huge black t-shirt. “We figured you might want a change of clothes before you leave Mr Hamlin. We always have backups.”
The rich Adonis smirked before taking the clothes. “Thanks. I had such a one track mind towards getting this muscle that I hadn’t even considered my clothes.” He glanced down at the remains of his suit strewn across the floor. “Sorry about that by the way.”
“It’s no problem at all sir. We’ve found most people actually prefer keeping their clothes on during a muscle transfer so they can rip out of them anyway. We assumed that’s why you didn’t undress.”
Without another word, Vince pulled down his insanely tight underwear from before and kicked them onto the floor. The staff turned away but not before getting a glance at Vince's huge cock swinging free. It seemed that despite his self control, he was still rocking a semi. Of course the new hunk couldn’t help smirking at this, knowing full well his cock already looked bigger semi-erect right now than it did fully hard before. He didn’t dwell on it too much though. After all, Darius was still in the room. Instead he just pulled up the briefs and joggers he’d been offered, loving how despite their huge size, they still fit him perfectly. He did however decide to keep the t-shirt off for now. He wanted to savour this a little longer…
Meanwhile, as Vince marched over towards a mirror to admire himself further, Darius stood looking down at his thin lanky body. He hadn’t been this skinny since he was a teenager. The last time he did a muscle transfer, the other guy already had a decent but of muscle himself so the transfer wasn’t too crazy. But now? Lord knows how long it was gonna take him to put all that size back on. “Well… back to square one I guess.” He huffed, looking over at the rich white dude across the room who was now enjoying all his hard work. He couldn’t be mad. After all, he was getting an insane amount of money for this. But still. It just felt weird seeing himself like this.
The now miniature sized bodybuilder made his way over towards Vince who had now begun poses and flexing in the mirror, enamoured by his new reflection. Even watching as he pulled down the joggers for a second to get a look at how juicy his new muscle ass was and judging by Vince's reaction, he wasn’t disappointed. “Hey man. Lookin pretty swole! You’re happy with the transfer I take it?” Darius questioned, keeping a positive attitude.
Vince turned to face Darius with a cocky smirk. “Oh you have no idea. It feels even better than I could’ve imagined. Happy would be an understatement.” He confirmed, flexing again. He also couldn’t help but relish in the fact that he was now the one looking down at Darius thanks to the height transfer. “Thank you Darius. I promise you I’ll take good care of all this.” He vowed before extending a hand out.
“You better. I certainly didn’t sculpt all that muscle so a rich white guy could waste it away.” Darius half-joked as he clasped the other man’s hand and shook it firmly.
As they shook Vince couldn’t help but grin inwardly. Darius still hadn’t noticed the extra dick transfer he got the staff the throw in. Not that it mattered if he did because soon enough he’d get the staff to erase the info on the dick transfer from any of the transfer machine’s data logs. By the time Darius realises what’s happened, he’ll have no way to prove it as all the staff in the room will be sworn to secrecy with Vince’s money. It was slightly evil, he knew that. But how could Vince pass up the chance to fuck and dominate dudes not only with all this muscle but with an even longer and fatter cock too! Besides he needs bigger equipment to match his bigger body right!?
The staff then took some time to go over a few details with the men. Listing possible side effects and what to maybe expect post transfer such as headaches and mild nausea for the first 24 hours while their bodies adjust. Vince was hardly listening though, only focusing on how fucking jacked he was now. Once they were done with the formalities however, they said the pair of them were free to either leave or join the rest of the attendees at the buffet.
At last Vince slipped on his t-shirt, adoring how it clung desperately to his giant pecs while the sleeves struggled to hold his biceps. With that he made his way out to the buffet where some of the other winners were already being admired after their own transfers. There were a few others who’d buffed up considerably as well as a few that seemed to have gotten younger with an age transfer no doubt. He even saw the guy who’d bidded on the bearish criminal and sure enough he was covered in thick manly body hair now as he was proudly displaying through his slightly unbuttoned shirt. Not to mention the huge bushy beard he now adorned.
The moment someone noticed Vince however, everyone stopped and looked. His transformation was the most insane of them all and it was no surprise considering who he’d won on the bid. Within moments the attendees and other winners alike came over to ask him how it felt and what it was like. All of them seemingly blown away by his transferral. Of course Vince revelled in the attention and it was now easier than ever to pick out the other gay men from the crowd by the way some of them looked at him.
The rest of his evening was spent being admired and complimented on his new body. It gave Vince a sense of confidence and cockiness he’d never experienced before but he couldn’t deny how much he loved it. He was frequently asked to flex his biceps by the increasingly drunk attendee’s and some people had even asked him to pick them up off the ground to which he did with ease. He even learnt how to bounce his pecs to his and everyone else’s delight. One very drunk dude even made a comment about how he wanted to shove his face between Vince’s juicy pecs. A wish that Vince was happy to grant as he pulled the guy in for a hug and made sure to squish the dude's face between the two slabs of meat on his chest. After which Vince even gave the guy his number so they could maybe meet up another time when he wasn’t so drunk.
Eventually the night came to an end and everyone piled out of the event, eager to get home. On his drive home, Vince couldn’t help thinking about everything he was going to do now. Besides checking himself out every morning he was going to love the attention he was gonna get every time he walked into a room from now on. He was also going to have a ton of fun buying new clothes to fit his gigantic physique. Not to mention how empowering it was going to feel to be the biggest guy at the gym from now on as he works to maintain all this. And most of all he couldn’t wait to get some hot guys to worship all his muscle before he fucks their brains out. He already knew he’d be pounding the guy he gave his number to in the near future. Maybe he could get ahold of the dude that took the bear criminal’s hairiness as well. The dude had definitely been making eyes at him. He was already pretty good looking before but now with all that body hair he looked gorgeous. Vince couldn’t help Imagining how good those bearded lips would feel around his fat cock…
Regardless Vince knew that he was gonna have the time of his life being the muscle beast from now. He reached down and groped his now fully hard cock through his joggers, smiling as he felt a full 8 inches of thick man meat down there. Oh yeah he had A LOT of self worshiping to do when he got home.
More Transfer Auction stories coming in the future!
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Being the introvert
My name is will and I’m a pretty free spirit guy who likes to have fun and make new friends, but there’s one particular guy who catches my attention the most at gym.
There was this guy named Tacitus who was tall, good looking and had a brilliant athlete physique, he tended to the gym daily lifting weights and high intensity cardio. He was a brilliant sight to behold and he stood out among people like gods among men, almost unreal. I found him pretty attractive so I attempted to find an opportunity to connect with him.
Every attempt to connect to him was like trying to find a needle in the hay stack, if you pick it up, you were risk also getting punctured by it. I tried connecting with him the way that most people do, such as waving at him when we locked eyes, when we went to shower I gave him a dab and said good workout and when he lifted weights I would ask him if he needed a spot thinking he might be more open if he believed I showed a bit of friendly concern for him.
Despite little results he seemed to be the strong silent type who was distant.
Eventually I came to the conclusion that he didn’t really think I was worth his time and this brought me a sense of animosity and envy.
So one day, I decided if I can’t connect with him, I’ll be him instead and possibly get to see the world in his perspective while I have fun with his body.
Now I have a special ability that allows me to shift my body into a spirit like form which allows me to enter the person to possess them, usually I use this ability for fun shenanigans, but for once I’ll use it as a social experiment, particularly being a hot introvert.
I waited till he finished his routine workouts which usually were in the morning and waiting till he was worn out which is when he would go in the sauna. When Tacitus was so distracted by his EarPods while laying down with eyes close, I saw my opportunity to take his hard working body by becoming a astral form and flew directly into his mouth at the moment he breath in.
For a moment he tried to resist despite being exhausted but I held the upper hand. After completely entering the body, I was in his stomach where I caused the already weakened body to contort causing muscle spasms as I situated causing feeling ecstasy as my possession cause my victims.
Once I locked in, I put my astral form into each limb as my cock went into his like a reverse fuck, which caused a erection in this body which may have been my excitement from being inside of him and position my head into his which caused him to black out and for me to take the wheel.
As soon as I came to, I immediately started feeling these muscles and removed his towel he had on to see his cock in full girth and his balls like the size of grapefruits. I then smelled his hairy pits which were sweaty and like the rest of his body was enough to set me on edge.
I then left the sauna to go and shower which allowed me to feel the sensation of warm water hit this sexy body as it with through the hair and ran down its skin.
Afterwards, I got his towel and dried off from head to toe and found his gym bag which I used to get his clean clothes to put on and his sweaty clothes to put in there place. When done, I went to the mirror to see this body from its own perspective which is when I felt a sudden shift in his thinking.
When I looked in the mirror, i started hearing his thoughts and could literally feel his mood shift in his body. I began to think to myself,
“How could someone with such a perfect body and appearance have such negative feelings.”
“The Day as Tacitus”
Afterwards, I left the gym and went about his daily routine which wasn’t hard to remember since I have access to his memories. When work was completed, I went to his home and showered before i went to bed. When I layed down, I found it hard to sleep, originally it was make mind playing today’s events over like a tap recorder and than a need for sexual release which is when I received a hard on. I attempted to go to sleep again, but the need for release kept me wide awake.
“Oh, well this is what the body wanted, I said as I proceeded to get his lotion set by him for this purpose and stroked Tac massive cock until load after load of cum came out like a faucet that wouldn’t stop dripping until it burst.
Afterwards I thought to myself,
“Damn, Tacitus body had a higher sex drive than most people and here I thought he was good at suppressing his sex drive. “Guess you only know a guy unless your deep inside of him.”
It was knee numbing when I orgasm in his body, I felt like I reach the next step of human evolution.
Damn he even organizes not only his sexy body but his sexual needs, that’s hot.
The morning came, Following his routine, I went to the gym, of course it wasn’t hard since his workout was muscle memory.
As I trained, I noticed how his mind also was very good at cognitive tunneling, so when he workout, that’s literally all he was lock into.
“I guess this is why he is not too socialable while training, his mind is lock in”, I’m lucky not to be a target in his shooting site”, I said.
After intense training, I went to the sauna to relax this body while laying down and when done I washed up and got dressed.
The night out as Tacitus
Today there wasn’t anything planned, so I decided to do what I wanted in his body which was to go out.
Tacitus is usually such an organized guy, but tonight he is gonna get down and chaotic with me to go to a gay bar, to see what I could pull off as him, seeing that a face as attractive as Tac should be shared with the world instead of behind door to a lonely mirror.
So I freshened up and changed to go to the bar to have a little fun.
When I arrived to the bar, I was amazed with all the attention I received and even heard other guys present talk about Tac about my looks. I proceeded to go to the bar table and asked for a drink and to my surprise, it was on the house. When I looked, I saw this hot guy who was sitting across from me who later came to sit next to me.
He said,
“So having a good time tonight”
Before I could speak, I begin to hear Tacitus thoughts speak, which almost hindered my actions saying things about how the guy next to me is attractive but filled with quiet anxiety, it almost couldn’t move. On the outside, I appeared composed and controlled but on the inside, it was like my world was on the verge of calamity with every thought that raced in my mind.
“My night is good”, I responded.
“Just one of those nights”
“What about you”
The man responded,
“Oh you, just completed a hard day at work.”
“Ohhh, and what type of work you do”, I said as to remove some of the spotlight off myself.
“Well I do work as one of the lead bosses of a construction company. I aid in planning and executing the construction of roads in most of Texas region, you know how the streets and roads are in need of repairs.”
“What about you, what your type of expertise, handsome” says the man.
“Oh, I’m just a police officer”, I said, “My job is basically to make sure people are safe and following the rules, that stuff.”
Oh, so I see why you have all those muscles, you must rarely have any trouble, says the man. Oh, how rude of me, my name is Simon by the way.
“My name is Tacitus, I said.
We had a conversation for well over a hour, as I talked, the mind thoughts of Tacitus relaxed if not became more vulnerable to Simon. Before I knew it, I was asking him to come over to Tacitus’s house to go further.
Once we got there, we couldn’t help but unleash the urge and passion that has build up all night. From drinking and talking came vulnerability and before I knew it, we were half dressed and making out.
Throughout the sex intimacy, I begin to take the lead in the sex encounter which I usually don’t do first when I possess other guys, I play the bottom role, the this introvert isn’t what he appears to be, nonetheless it never hurts to let your inner introvert out sometimes, ahaha.
Suddenly I began to lift Simon up and we continued to make out on our way to Tacitus’s room to start round 2.
Carrying him to the bed, I begin helping him take off his clothes both of us driving by the urge to fulfill our lust desperately. When all the clothes were removed, both of us were naked, able to fill each more than words can describe. I then turn him on his abdomen, pressing his ass cheeks with my hands to separate them as I feeling more daring and also guided Tacitus lust and passion begin eating this stud ass. Simon not being able to contain himself began to moan with pleasure.
After a while I stop and begin to put my hard cock into Simon’s glory hole and pressed my hands against his to the bed, bringing my head closer to his as if to desperately become one being.
I begin butt fucking the hell out of Simon as I thrusted in and out, increasing the pace until I reached the right rhythm. As I did this he proceeded to moan and cry as the pleasure was so much for him. Minutes passed and we both were reaching climax and couldn’t contain it which was when both of our muscle started tensing and our cocks ready the release as we proceeding bursting our loads at the same time as Simon became a cream filling for mine and his went all over the mattress, shooting out like a wild faucet going on and off as the edge diminished.
As the climax calm and clarity slowly returned, I thought to myself.
“I have to say I may have underestimated this shy boy, he’s more capable then he appears on the outside.
It’s funny that the only way to truly understand the introvert perspective and personality is to literally get inside of his body and its good that I have this ability, but I haven’t scratched the surface yet, I may be in him for a while, ahaha.
Two months since I swapped my own middle aged body with this hunky Swedish tourist’s, I remember him saying how much he wants to experience America. Since then, I’ve turned him into a real red neck American, got some cowboy boots and some jeans for this new body of mine. Showing off my new sexy Scandinavian muscles for all the guys in my small Kansas town, a few of them have also had the honor of tasting my new Scandinavian meat and being bred by my big sticky loads. The cap is the only thing from the original owner of my body, I love wearing it to remember who I stole this body from. I bet he’s still crying in his overweight middle aged body.
Halloween night felt like a costume Jamie couldn't take off. He wore a dark Berghaus quarter-zip, trying to project a hardness he didn't feel, but his reflection just showed a try-hard with a soft jawline and nervous eyes. His girlfriend, Chloe, was already half a bottle of wine deep and thoroughly unimpressed.
"Are you going to do the spooky voice, or can we just get this over with?" she asked, gesturing at the grimy Ouija board on the coffee table.
"It's about atmosphere," Jamie mumbled, placing the board between them. He'd bought it at a car boot sale, drawn to how old and grimy it looked. The planchette felt strangely warm.
They went through the motions, their fingers resting on the plastic triangle. "Is anyone there?" Jamie asked, his voice cracking slightly.
The planchette shuddered and began to move. G-A-Z.
"Gaz? Is that you, granddad?" Chloe giggled, taking a sip of wine.
But Jamie felt a jolt, a genuine spike of ice-cold fear. The name felt dangerous. The planchette slid again, faster this time. N-O-T G-R-A-N-D-A-D.
Chloe soon got bored and went home, but Jamie couldn't shake the feeling. Alone in his room, he felt a pull towards the board. He put his fingers back on the planchette. "Who are you?"
M-A-T-E. C-A-N H-E-L-P.
A voice, low and rough, echoed not in the room, but directly inside his head. Bored, ain't ya? I can tell. This whole life... it's a bit fuckin' tame.
Jamie flinched. "Who is this?"
Name's Gaz. I'm stuck in this shite piece of wood. But I can still do things. I sense what you want, Jamie. You wanna be bigger. Harder. More exciting. I can give ya that. Three wishes. All I ask is you let me tag along for the ride. See the world through your eyes for a bit. What d'ya say?
Jamie’s heart hammered. It was insane. It was a trick. But he was so tired of being himself. "Okay," he whispered. "Deal."
A Few Days Later
A few days later, Jamie was walking past a pub when a group of lads, the exact kind of guys who intimidated him, started giving him shit. "Look at this pretty boy," one of them sneered.
Normally, Jamie would have flushed red and hurried past. But Gaz's voice was a poison drip in his ear. Go on, mate. This is what you wanted. Time for yer first wish. Just wish for the balls to handle it.
"I wish I had the balls to deal with this," Jamie thought, a desperate, panicked prayer.
It felt like a switch being flipped. A surge of pure, violent adrenaline flooded his system. His fear vanished, replaced by searing-hot rage. He didn't feel confident; he felt feral.
"What'd you fuckin' say to me?" The voice that came out of his mouth wasn't his. It was a guttural snarl, his accent twisting into something ugly and common. He shoved the main lad, hard. The ensuing fight was a blur of clumsy, brutal violence. Jamie won, leaving the other guy with a bloody nose, but his knuckles were raw and his whole body screamed in protest.
He stumbled away, horrified and buzzing. Gaz's voice cackled in his head. See? Works a treat, dunnit? Now I'm linked up proper. We're gonna have a great time, you and me.
Jamie's life began to unravel. Gaz was a constant presence, a vulgar commentator on everything. He filled Jamie's head with crude thoughts about men and made him feel nothing but irritation for Chloe.
Jamie started looking in the mirror and hating the soft, middle-class boy staring back. He felt pathetic. The body didn't match the aggression simmering inside him.
"This is your fault," Jamie hissed at the voice in his head.
My fault? I gave ya what ya wanted! It ain't my fault you're built like a fuckin' twig. You look like a pansy. Maybe you should use wish number two to fix that.
He was exhausted from fighting. Maybe if he just gave in a little, things would get easier. "Fine," he growled. "I wish I looked the part. I wish I was properly fucking built."
A jolt of searing, electric heat slammed into his spine, so intense he cried out and dropped to his knees on the floorboards. His bones groaned, popping and cracking as his entire frame was brutally reshaped.
He felt his shoulders crack and widen, stretching his t-shirt until the seams screamed. His clavicle felt like it was being pried apart, creating a broader, more powerful base. The change was agonizing, a wave of raw power he couldn't fight.
Then came the muscle. Searing heat flooded his torso as slabs of pectoral muscle swelled into existence, hard and defined. His stomach clenched violently, the faint softness there boiling away in seconds, replaced by a brutally etched six-pack. He gasped as his arms, weak and slender moments before, began to swell. His biceps and triceps inflated, veins popping up like thick wires under his skin, his arms becoming thick, powerful weapons.
The fire concentrated low in his gut. A deep, demanding ache growing in his dick. He could feel himself thickening, lengthening inside the torturously tight denim of his jeans. The pressure built, an intense, throbbing weight as his cock swelled, growing heavier, thicker, a dominant cut of meat straining for release.
He tried to scream, to say "What the fuck is happening?!" but the voice that came out was alien. A low, familiar, gravelly rumble that vibrated in his new, thicker chest. "W-wha... the Fo'k" The sound was a shock, a rough, guttural sound that wasn't his. It was Gaz's voice. It was his voice now.
Finally, a brutal purge. Memories of Chloe, of gentle kisses and shared jokes, dissolved into static. His university course, the books he’d read, the future he’d planned, all of it was wiped clean. The thrill of a scrap behind the pub. The taste of cheap cider. The feeling of a stolen moped vibrating between his thighs. His thoughts became simpler, heavier, focused on survival, on power, on the heavy, aching weight between his legs.
He was left on his hands and knees on the floor, panting, sweat-soaked. Slowly, he pushed himself up. He looked in the mirror. Staring back was the man from the picture. Hard eyes, thick hair, a powerful, leanly muscled body. His jeans were impossibly tight now. He hooked a thumb into his waistband, pulling it forward slightly to look down at the thick, heavy bulge pressing against the zipper.
Gaz stared at his own hard reflection, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face. He could feel the last scraps of Jamie fighting inside, a pathetic whisper in a hurricane.
"My turn, pretty boy," he rumbled, his voice low and final. "One wish left. And it's mine."
He met his own eyes in the mirror, his voice a raw command.
"For my one wish: Shove this straight prick in a cage in my head so he can't do shit but watch. Make this body mine for good. And make every lad who sees it desperate for my cock."
Jamie's consciousness was slammed backwards, locked into a spectator's chair in his own skull. He had eyes and ears, but no mouth, no hands. He was a prisoner watching his life on a screen he could never turn off.
Gaz felt the last resistance snuff out, replaced by the faint, satisfying hum of Jamie's silent, unending scream. A final surge of power hardened his body, locking everything into place. It was done.
It was the brutal, demanding ache in his jeans.
His new cock was a heavy, insistent presence, a thick slab of meat that pulsed with a need so intense it was the only thing he could think about. This body hadn't been used properly, and its new engine was screaming for a test drive.
"Right," he grunted to the empty room. "Time to break this in."
He didn't bother with the front door. He vaulted the back garden fence with an easy, powerful grace that felt completely natural and landed silently on the side street. He shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking, a predator looking for prey.
He turned the corner onto the main road. Bathed in the orange glow of the streetlamps, two lads were walking towards him. They were deep in conversation, smoking and chatting.
"Nah, mate, you wish she was lookin' at you," one of them, with a sharp fade, was saying.
The other, in a baseball cap, just grinned. "She was, dickhead. You was too busy..."
His voice died in his throat.
Their eyes had lifted from each other and locked onto Gaz as he approached. It wasn't just a glance. It was like their brains hit a brick wall. The banter, the smiles, the thoughts, all of it vanished, wiped clean. The light in their eyes went out, replaced by a dumb, slack-jawed hunger. They stumbled to a halt in the middle of the pavement, their bodies going rigid.
Gaz didn't break his stride. He walked right up to them until they were forced to look up at him, their faces a mask of mindless, desperate need. He could see the bulges forming in their trackies. He smirked. It worked even better than he'd imagined.
He stopped, towering over them. He jerked his head towards the dirty pavement at his feet.
"On your knees," he commanded. His voice was a low, gravelly rumble.
Like puppets with their strings cut, they dropped. The scrape of their joggers on the concrete was the only sound. They knelt side-by-side, looking up at him with the blank, total devotion of a dog waiting for a command.
Gaz unzipped his jeans, the sound loud in the night air. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, aching with power.
They didn't need to be told twice. They surged forward as one, clumsy and desperate, their mouths open. Gaz grabbed the back of their heads, feeling the rough buzz cuts under his palms. He leaned back against the brick wall, a wave of pure, triumphant power washing over him.
Inside, he could feel the frantic, silent scream of Jamie shattering against the walls of his mental prison. And Gaz just grinned, shutting his eyes as his first two subjects got to work.

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#THEINCIDENT
The air in my old room smells of old farts and defeat. I settle into bed, and the old mattress creaks under a weight I've never borne before. I feel the friction of my new, voluminous belly against my thighs, the constant tension in a back that has lost all muscle definition, the perpetual chill on a scalp that is now just smooth, hairless skin. Every morning I wake up expecting it to be a nightmare, and every morning reality hits me in the form of this fifty-four-year-old, bald, overweight body.
Moving back to my parents' house was the most humiliating thing. This accountant's body, the Robert "Bob" Jenkins body, couldn't afford the rent on my loft. My protein and gym sponsorships... our sponsorships... evaporated as soon as people saw what I had become.
But the worst wasn't the material. It was Jenna's look, filled with confusion and then pure revulsion when I tried to explain that it was me, Kyle, trapped inside this... shell of grease and gray hair. "Kyle, this isn't healthy. You should get help," she said before blocking me everywhere. My friends, my gym brothers, just make excuses now. "Uh, dude, we're just really busy," they say on the phone, and I can hear the discomfort in their voices as they speak in the deep, breathy voice of an older stranger. Even my own parents tiptoe around me. Mom avoids eye contact, and Dad only talks to me about the weather, unable to connect with the older man who claims to be the son he was so proud of.
With a frustrated growl coming hoarse from this alien throat, I grab my laptop. I need to wallow in my misery. I navigate to my old Instagram profile, @KyleTheTitan.
And there I am. Or rather, there he is. Bob, I guess his new young brain acted quickly and changed my social media passwords. It should have been easy; he had my phone number and my face.
The photo is a stab. My V-shaped torso, my rock-solid biceps, my chiseled abs, all dressed up like a suit by that grinning imposter. He's wearing only tight gym shorts and holding a tub of the protein I helped promote. The headline reads: "New horizons! Grateful for this second chance and for my partners at @FlexFuelNutrition who believe in me #SwapCorpSurvivor #StrongerThanEver."
I feel a fierce nausea burning in my stomach, a stomach that is now soft and round. That body was my temple, my identity. I shaped it with years of sacrifice, pain, and discipline. And now that financial softie, Bob Jenkins, is there, grinning like a fool, taking in all the glory, endorsements, and health insurance showering the "innocent victims of the Incident."
Rage courses through my veins, but it's followed by a much stranger and more treacherous feeling. As I stare at the screen, admiring every muscle cut I've carved, an intense and completely involuntary arousal begins to grow in my groin, swelling against the restrictive fabric of these hideous polyester pants my father lent me.
I look down, with horror and a hint of fascination. An erection, firm and insistent, deforms the fabric. It's this old, rejected body responding to the sight of my own former body, a body everyone desired and now no one denies Bob. The disconnect is so surreal it almost makes me dizzy. I hadn't touched myself in months, my enormous, hairy balls swollen from the withdrawal from accepting this perverse reaction. The confusion is total.
Suddenly, a notification pops up in the corner of the screen. An alert from a local news network.
"Protest outside SwapCorp offices: Victims call for halt to 'cure' research"
My heart pounding in a way this new body finds alarming, I click.
The video plays, showing a crowd in front of SwapCorp's glass building. And there, in the front row, with my powerful chest puffed out and my voice, now strangely modulated with the conviction of a middle-aged man, shouting into a megaphone, is Bob Jenkins.
"Our bodies are not experiments!" shouts the muscular figure that was once me. "This body is mine now! It's a gift. SwapCorp must stop its dangerous quest to reverse the process. We demand to be acknowledged and left alone! My name is Kyle, and this is my body!"
The crowd cheers. Camera flashes illuminate Bob's defined pecs as he struts in front of the camera with a charismatic smile, the gaze of a crowd of men and women never leaving him.
I sat frozen in my teenage bedroom, mesmerized by the live action. Before I knew it, my cock was out of my pants, and my hand was pumping up and down. The smell of my old cock filled my room, and sticky precum lubricated my fingers until my cock exploded, completely staining my laptop screen.
Completely in ecstasy, lying on my bed and completely exhausted, all I could hear was my old voice on the computer.
"Yeah, I think I'm putting this body to better use. I'm sure the real Kyle thinks so."
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Hey, hello again! I hope you haven't forgotten me. I just wrote my first story since my return and posted it on Ko-fi. Thank you so much for your patience, and I hope you enjoy this old story from my archives. See you sooner than you think!
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Swap app: it should always have been this way.
Tired of your perfect life? Tired of every girl at university wanting to spend a night with you? Do you want to be an ordinary person for just one day? Or how about an even better, a friendless nerd with nothing to do but have the day to yourself? Well, SWAP APP is here, the app that fulfills all your dreams… even the darkest and most twisted ones you have inside, like being dominated by your own body, like the pathetic nerd you always wanted to be? You can read more here in my new story
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