Male Shapeshift

"Dude. Stop asking. I won it fair and square. Go find another body to win. You shouldn't have offered your own body as collateral."

He walked away but then came back, "I really need it back, okay? And please stop doing only fans, and posting my dick online. It's not fair." He begged.

"Well, it's not your dick anymore, is it? It's mine." I groped my package in front of him. "All mine... I'm the new Oliver" the package straining against the cage of my blue jeans.

I never saw him again. I got a boyfriend a few weeks later after countless hooking up.

My boyfriend Aiden went missing for a couple days, and came back different. He kissed me. I didn't refuse as I was horny. I thrusted into him. He started to thrust his own heavy dick inside me. He kissed me during, and whispered, "I want my body back for your boyfriend's body in return.

I was rapidly moaning, 'Fuck. Fucking finish!" I felt his load fill up the bubble butt he so desperately wanted back.

We discussed everything in the shower, "Where's my real boyfriend?"

"Does it matter? Neither of us will downgrade. He's in the body a weak 23 year old twink. I won it after gambling for it. And managed to win again after challenging your lover here. His ego couldn't not be his downfall. Now, here I am. A body I don't mind inhabiting."

"I..." I froze.

He looked down at his former dick. 'I'd prefer to not pound my own former assets everyday... Switch with me. And I will show you what that body can really do. I see you jacking off to your- my former reflection in the mirror. You'd love to get fucked by it."

"Okay. But I'm in charge." We went and got switched.

It was only 3 days inside my boyfriend's body before a man came knocking, a twink man with a charming face. He demanded that this body be returned. The rental company of body swapping known as Swap Shark, handed me a bill and placed my soul into that twink. And he left.

I became furious. I demanded the body back, "My boyfriend rented his body to you? How? why?"

He laughed, "He unknowingly signed a contract with Swap Shark for his body to be used by others for a period of 5 years for a lump sum of only 50k. He's trapped in the passenger seat while others drive him. Sorry for the deception."

"That's not right. This is criminal. I need to call someone." I yelled. Oliver in the original flesh, "I don't think so, I was given a great deal for tricking him. My body back for your boyfriend's body now being a money maker. Plus you get to be my beautiful submissive twink."

My new body felt less powerful. I was pretty. But no power in my muscles. "What are you going to do to me?" I gulped with shallow breaths.

"Get on the bed. The body you're using was already cleaned out for bottoming before arrival. And with this dick... that's all mine. You could say I beat the game, "Fair and Square". But maybe if you're a good twink, I'll let you rent out your boyfriend's body to use again. With big dicks comes big loads to carry." He patted his dick. And inserted it inside me from behind me.

Oliver ramming my hole making my dick leak, "You're just my type, a twink that can take a hit from my dick's extra large loads. Thanks for the body back. No more gambling away my precious body. You deserve a reward for taking such good care of it."

We went at it until my ass was overflowing. I swear the loads were never this big when that body was mine. It must respond differently to him. "I will have to hope he'll honor his promise to let me use Aiden's body. Better me than a stranger." I thought.

There was nothing fair or square about this. Swap Shark is nothing but a criminal organization of swap-body theft schemes.

“Kayla told me to return the spare key she had given me, while she’s at work,” Chad explained. “But I thought I might wait here for you.”

“For me?” I responded incredulously.

“Let’s not pretend you’re not attracted to me,” Chad taunted, still stroking his cock. “I know you want me—and my big dick. Now’s your chance, bro.”

“I—I don’t think this is a good idea,” I protested feebly.

“Why not?” he countered. “Your sister dumped my ass. I’m a free man. I can stick my dick wherever I want—and I’m choosing your ass. You know you want this big cock.”

Chad was right. I did want his big cock. I used to eavesdrop on Kayla telling her girlfriends how Chad had a big one—a real pussy splitter—and that it was a lot to take. Sure, she was complaining. But I could tell she secretly loved getting dicked down by a big one. The two of us had that in common. And so it was nearly impossible to turn down Chad’s offer to give me that big dick. But I wasn’t going to make it easy on him.

“You just want to fuck me to get back at my sister for dumping your ass,” I argued.

“Yeah, that’s partly true,” Chad laughed. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a slutty size queen who wants to ride me. It’s a win-win for both of us.”

A win-win. How could I argue with that?

“Okay,” I surrendered far too easily. “You can fuck me.”

“Good,” he smiled wickedly. “Then climb on this cock and ride it.”

Dutifully, I stripped down in front of him. Reaching into my bedside table, I pulled out a bottle of lube and a Trojan.

“You can forget about that condom,” he barked. “Kayla always made me wrap it so she wouldn’t get pregnant. But you’re gonna take my babies, got it?”

“Uh huh,” I nodded, secretly eager to have Chad’s warm load inside me.

Deftly, I lubed up my hole while Chad watched with eager anticipation. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Get that cunt good and wet for this big dick.”

With my hole readied for him, I tossed the lube aside. Climbing onto the bed, I straddled Chad—and promptly sat upon his big dick, expertly taking him to the balls.

“Fuuuuck,” he exhaled slowly. “Your hole is so fuckin’ tight.”

“Tighter than Kayla’s pussy?”

“Duh,” he laughed. “Now ride this big dick. Ride it like you own it.”

Placing my hands on Chad’s firm pecs, my hard cock resting on his washboard abs, I raised my hips and began to work my hole up and down his swollen shaft. Rhythmically, I worked his cock like a piston, taking every inch of him in and out of me—over and over.

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” he marveled, propping his muscular arms behind his head. “I think you’ve done this before.”

“You think?” I laughed in jest, grinding down on him harder.

“Your sister was always so vanilla when we fucked,” Chad shared as I continued to bob up and down on him. “But you—I always knew you’d be a dirty slut in bed.”

“I think you’ll find I’m nothing like Kayla,” I replied, activating my sphincter, gripping his cock from within me. Expertly, I contracted and released his shaft, massaging his cock inside my depths.

“Holy fuck,” he exhaled, his toes curling. “It’s like you’re jacking my cock with your ass. How the fuck are you doing that?”

“Lots of practice,” I purred, licking my lips, reveling in the feeling of his big cock inside of me—a cock that once belonged to my sister but was now mine.

Eagerly, I began to pick up the pace, riding Chad’s big dick like my life depended on it. Chad’s hands went to my hips, slamming my body up and down on him harder and harder, faster and faster—pushing his cock into my warm depths deeper and deeper. The pace was too fast, his desire too frenzied. It couldn’t last.

“Dude,” he warned, biting his lip, “I think I’m gonna—I’m gonna—FUCK, bro—get ready for it.”

“That’s it,” I encouraged. “Gimme that nut. Fuckin’ breed my ass.”

“FUCK,” Chad grunted in release, his head hitting the wall behind my bed as his body convulsed beneath me, his big cock throbbing rhythmically inside me. A warmth emanated from deep within me as his thick load coated my depths.

With his balls now fully emptied inside me, I quickly dismounted. Upon release, Chad’s wet, cum-slicked cock slapped against his meaty thigh. Ravenously, I dove between his legs and licked his cock clean, sucking the last bit of cum out of his cock slit.

“Damn, you are a dirty slut,” he laughed. “And full service.”

“I aim to please,” I smiled devilishly. “But you better get your ass outta here before Kayla gets home from work. You got what you came for.”

“Shit,” he scrambled off the bed, yanking on his crumpled clothes from off the floor. “Here,” he pulled out the spare key from his pocket. “I better leave this with you.”

“Nah,” I refused. “Keep the key. You can use it whenever you want to fuck me again.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely,” I affirmed.

And then Chad did something that I never would have expected—he pulled me into his arms and kissed me, tongue and all.

“I’ll be back later tonight,” he assured me with a slap on the ass. “So plan on giving up that sweet cunt to me again.”

“But—but what about Kayla?” I stammered.

“What about her?” Chad laughed. “Your sister dumped my ass, which means she gets no say as to where I stick my dick.”

Johnny hummed a soft tune as he worked the shampoo into the young man's hair. The white foam piled up thick and sweet-smelling. The customer, a slim white guy with floppy blond hair, relaxed into the chair, eyes closed. He had no idea what was about to happen.

Johnny's fingers moved in slow circles. With each rub, strands of hair came loose. They slid down the young man's neck, onto the floor. Johnny kept humming.The young man felt a tingle. It started at his scalp and spread down his spine. He wanted to open his eyes, but his body felt heavy, too heavy. He didn't notice his shoulders pushing wider against his T-shirt. He didn't feel the fabric tighten over his chest as muscles swelled.Johnny kneaded deeper. More hair fell away. The blond mop thinned, then vanished from the crown. The hairline crept backward, leaving a smooth, shiny dome on top. Dark stubble pushed through the skin around his jaw and upper lip, rough and thick.

The young man's body grew dense, beefy. His arms thickened, veins rising to the surface. His hands, resting on the chair, turned into tough, square paws. His thighs spread apart as his whole frame became solid, heavy with man-weight.

But it wasn't just the body. Johnny's fingers sent thoughts into the young man's brain, soft and sneaky. The memories of college classes, video games, and a shy girlfriend melted away. New thoughts pushed in: sweaty nights, hungry mouths, the smell of leather and whiskey. A need that burned low in his belly.The young man's lips parted. His breathing deepened. He forgot his old name. Now he was Victor, a forty-year-old divorced man who hadn't been touched in too long. A man who craved rough hands and a hot mouth. A man who knew exactly what he wanted.

Johnny rinsed the last of the foam away. He watched the reflection in the mirror: a balding, beefy man with a face full of stubble, his T-shirt now too small for his thick chest. The man's eyes were still shut.Then Johnny leaned close. "All done," he whispered.

It was the only thing in my life I actually looked forward to anymore.

The bus was packed with the same dead-eyed zombies as always. I wedged myself against a pole, phone held low, and opened my secret Tumblr feed. I scrolled past thick chests, veiny arms, and arrogant smirks, my cock twitching against my thigh with every new image. The guy next to me smelled like cheap cologne and defeat.

God, I’m so fucking done with this.

I didn’t want to just live like this anymore. I want to be rich. To wake up whenever I wanted and jerk off all day in some massive bed if I felt like it.

Fuck that — why stop at rich?

I want to be hot. Huge. Powerful. The kind of man people drooled over. The kind who took up space and made others feel small.

My thumb kept moving, heart beating faster, when a GIF suddenly loaded.

Holy shit.

I turned the phone off like a secret nobody else could watch

=============

The second I stepped inside my tiny room, I started stripping. Shirt, pants, boxers — my daily ritual. But tonight my heart was pounding harder than usual. I knew what I had waiting on that screen.

I didn’t even make it to the bed. My cock was already throbbing as I wrapped my hand around it, slowly stroking while I was still standing. In my head I kept replaying that GIF on loop: his perfect body, that cocky smirk, the way his hands gripped those legs like he owned every inch of anyone beneath him.

His beauty. His roughness. His raw fucking power.

I grabbed my phone again and opened my little secret.

There he was — even better than my imagination. The man I want to be. The man I deserve to be. Just pixels on a cracked screen… yet I could already feel his magic pulling at me, like the universe was daring me to want it harder.

I stroked faster, eyes locked on a loop showcasing his power, my breath getting ragged. “Fuck… I wish that was me…”

The screen flashed.

==============

For a split second everything vanished — my shitty room, the phone in my hand, the familiar weight of my own cock.

Then the world slammed back in.

I wasn’t laying down anymore. I was on my knees, powerful thighs spread wide, muscles burning with effort. My hands — no, his hands — were gripping two smooth, trembling legs, folding them back hard against a slender chest in a deep mating press. My hips were driving forward on pure instinct, slamming a thick, heavy cock into a tight, twitching hole.

What the fuck—?!

Panic exploded in my chest. This wasn’t my body. This body was huge — broad shoulders, thick slabs of muscle, veins popping along my forearms as I held the twink’s legs open. My cock felt monstrous inside him, stretching him wide with every thrust. I could feel the heat, the insane tightness gripping me, the way his walls fluttered and clenched.

Below me, a cute, flushed twink stared up with wide, watery eyes, mouth open in a silent moan. His smaller cock leaked against his stomach as I drove into him again. I didn’t know him. I’d never seen him before. But this body knew exactly what it was doing.

“F-fuck—” I gasped, my voice deep and rough, nothing like mine.

I tried to stop, but the hips kept moving — powerful, relentless thrusts that made wet, obscene sounds every time I bottomed out. Pleasure rolled through me like a drug. Every stroke felt better than the last. My new cock was so much bigger, so much more sensitive. I could feel his hole milking me, greedy and hot.

The smell of sex was thick in the air — sweat, lube, and raw musk. I could taste salt on my lips. My new heart was pounding hard in my wide chest.

This isn’t real. This can’t be happening.

But it was. I was him. The man from the GIF. Rich. Hot. Powerful. And right now I was balls-deep in a twink, wrecking him.

My panic started to melt as another hard thrust made him cry out. A low, feral groan left my throat. My hands tightened on his legs, pushing them further back, folding him in half. The motion felt… natural. Like the body was teaching me what it wanted.

I could feel every inch of this new body coming alive under my control. The burn in my powerful thighs as I drove forward. The flex of rock-hard abs with every thrust. The heavy swing of my massive balls slapping against his ass. My thick cock throbbed inside him, so much more sensitive than anything I’d ever felt — every ridge and vein dragging along his tight walls sent sparks up my spine.

“Shit… so fucking tight,” I muttered, voice thick with lust. My hips snapped forward harder, chasing that mind-numbing pleasure. I looked down at my massive chest, sweat glistening on carved pecs, the way my abs flexed powerfully with every thrust, the thick cock disappearing into his stretched, pink hole.

This body was responding to me more and more. My fingers dug deeper into his soft thighs, feeling the strength in my grip. I could hear the wet, filthy sound of my cock pounding into him echoing in the luxurious bedroom. The twink’s desperate little whimpers were like music.

Slowly, I started to control the rhythm. No longer just being carried by instinct — I was steering it. I pulled back until just the fat head of my cock stretched his hole, then slammed back in with a powerful roll of my hips, savoring every sensation.

This was mine now.

I leaned in closer, pinning him completely, and let the body take over even more. The panic was still there, flickering at the edges… but it was getting quieter with every deep, claiming stroke.

Then the memories slammed into me all at once.

One second I was panicking — the next, everything clicked.

I am Yoshi.

37, world famous actor, owner of a sleek penthouse overlooking the city, a supercar, and more money than most people could spend in three lifetimes. Respected. Feared. Desired.

And married.

A beautiful wife was out right now — elegant, high-society, none the wiser. She thought I was “working from home” again. I saw her face in the painting next to me and memories flood: smiling at charity galas on my arm, kissing me goodbye in the morning, completely oblivious to the fact that her husband regularly destroyed tight little twinks like this one in her own bed.

A low, possessive growl escaped my throat as another memory locked in. This no-name twink was just another stress relief. An eager hole I used whenever I needed to remind myself I could take whatever the fuck I wanted.

“Fuck…” I breathed, voice deep and commanding. My hips snapped forward harder, driving my massive cock balls-deep into him. The memories made everything hotter. I wasn’t just fucking him — I was cheating. I was the rich alpha who had it all and still took more.

The twink moaned loudly beneath me, his smaller cock leaking all over his stomach as I folded him in half. My new body knew exactly how to wreck him — brutal, confident strokes that made his eyes roll back.

I grinned, sweat dripping down my carved abs. “That’s it. Take my cock like a good boy.”

The words felt natural now. The old me was already dissolving, buried under waves of power, money, and pure sexual dominance. I had a wife at home… and right now I was balls-deep in a secret twink, stretching him open like he was made for it.

I slammed in again, groaning at how incredible my thick cock felt. Bigger than anything I’d ever had before. Veiny. Heavy. Perfect.

This was my life now.

And I fucking loved it.

The Adhinegoro family left for Budapest, and then London, to celebrate the family's favorite club Premier League victory. They left their sprawling Dharmawangsa residence to their trusted and diligent housekeeper, Aryo, who decided to try on the new tricks taught by his girlfriend. As he scoured through the laundry bin he should've washed, Aryo instead slide on the musky Calvin, damp athletic shorts and then the worn, sweat-and-cologne infused loose jersey on his skinny frame. He quickly filled in the clothing appropriately as his quad thickened, cock snaked down to fill the pouch even more and the jersey become tight yet fitting nicely on his now developed muscular form.

While my roommate is leaving the kost-an for the week to enjoy Bali with his girlfriend during this long holiday period, I decided to put on his clothes and pretended to be him as my form instantly shifted to resemble him as long as I put on articles with his DNA still on the article.

Patrick was a total jerk—hot-headed, arrogant, the kind of guy who made you wonder if British "gentlemen" were just a lie. As his work partner, not only did I have to put up with his attitude, but I was constantly cleaning up his messes before he blew our deals. So, yeah, helping myself to that damn fine body of his feels like fair. The guy did have a damn good shape.

Ever since I kissed someone for the first time, I’ve known about my power. I can take anyone’s body I want. Total control. The only way to be free is when I decide to leave—and that usually happens after I’ve jerked off so many times I get bored.

I reach down and squeeze my aching bulge, trying to adjust it. The leather seat of my motorcycle is hot from the sun, keeping my cock painfully hard. I glance around the empty parking lot, then slide my hand into my shorts, gripping my leaking dick. Soon I’ll be doing the same thing inside his body. God, he’s a real man—hairy, thick, masculine. All of that is about to become mine.

Footsteps approach. I yank my hand out fast. A second later, he’s right beside me. Sergio. My target. He joined the gym recently, but I noticed him from day one. The moment I saw him shirtless in the locker room, I knew I had to have him.

“Hey, Sergio. How’s it going?” I’d spent weeks building rapport, hoping it would make this smoother. “What did you train today?”

“Hey man, thought you’d already left,” he says, bumping fists with me like we’re bros. “Chest day. It was brutal.”

“I bet. Every time I hit chest I feel like I can’t even breathe,” I reply, instinctively touching my own pecs while my eyes devour his massive frame under the dim parking lot lights.

“You coming tomorrow?” he asks, swinging a leg over his motorcycle.

I can’t wait anymore.

“Yeah, but there’s one last thing I need to tell you.” He turns to look at me. I swallow hard, grab his tank top with both hands, and yank him into a brutal kiss.

He tries to shove me off—those huge arms nearly succeed—but I force my tongue deeper. Our mouths fight, tongues sliding wet and aggressive. He’s experienced, and that only makes me hungrier.

The familiar rush hits me. My consciousness rips free and floods into him through the kiss. I force every inch of his body to obey me, claiming muscle, bone, and cock. A few seconds later, I open my new eyes and stare at my old, empty body standing there like a discarded puppet.

I shove it aside gently and grin.

“Let’s see what you’ve got for me, big boy.” My voice—his voice—is deep and rough. I run my hands over my new chest, feeling how pumped and solid it is from the workout.

My palms slide down to my abs, then lower. I freeze for a second when I grab the fat, heavy cock straining in his shorts. It’s thick, veiny, and surrounded by a dense, dark bush of pubic hair.

“Fuck yes,” I growl, massaging my new balls. A low, masculine moan escapes my lips.

“What the fuck is happening?!” Sergio’s voice screams beside me. His ghostly form is standing right there, staring in horror as I grope his stolen body.

I smirk. “Jesus, man. You’ve been hiding a fucking monster in here.” I squeeze the thick shaft harder, not caring that he’s yelling at me.

He keeps screaming, demanding his body back. I ignore him. All I want is to get home and break this hairy beast in.

“Give me my body back, you freak!” he shouts.

I climb onto his motorcycle. “Bro, I’m not talking to you out here. People are gonna think I’m crazy talking to myself. And in case you haven’t noticed, only I can see you.”

“You’re just gonna leave your old body there?” he sneers. “It looks like a damn statue. People will ask questions.”

I wave a hand, putting my old shell on autopilot. It climbs onto my old bike and follows. Years of practice make it easy.

It took a little effort to find Sergio’s apartment—his constant bitching made accessing his memories annoying. I drop the gym bag by the door and head straight for the full-length mirror.

I don’t waste time. My hands roam over my new torso, squeezing the swollen, sensitive pecs. The pump from chest day still burns deliciously. I rip the tank top off.

Thick, dark hair covers my chest and stomach. I run my fingers through it, tugging lightly, my mind flooding with filthy thoughts.

“Stop touching me!” the real Sergio yells, forced to watch.

“Why? It’s my body now.” I shove the shorts and underwear down. His—my—cock springs out, heavy and already drooling precum. I grip it with both hands and moan like a whore.

Sergio moans too, involuntarily. The pleasure hits him as hard as it hits me.

“You like that, huh?” I laugh. “Too bad we’re stuck together. Every time I feel good, you feel it too.”

Panic flashes across his face. He knows I’m into men. And that knowledge makes my new cock throb even harder.

I tear the underwear completely off and start stroking. The shaft is fat, veined, and covered in dark hair at the base. I spit on it and jerk faster, staring at the reflection of this hairy, muscular bear.

The smell hits me—raw, masculine sweat from the gym. I lift one thick arm and bury my face in my pit, inhaling deeply. The musky, pungent scent makes my eyes roll back.

“Fuck, I stink,” I groan. Sergio is panting beside me, clearly fighting the pleasure he’s receiving from his own body.

I close my eyes and picture all the guys from the gym—tight shorts, sweaty bodies, some shirtless. Then I open them again and stare at the hairy beast in the mirror.

“Don’t think about guys—” Sergio begs.

“I control this body. I’ll think about whatever the fuck I want.” I close my eyes again and imagine bending over half the gym. “I’m gonna cum!”

Thick ropes of cum splatter across the mirror and onto my hairy abs. I scoop some up and lick it slowly off my fingers, savoring the salty taste while staring right at Sergio’s horrified face.

He’s still moaning, legs shaky.

I smirk, then grab my phone. One of Sergio’s gym buddies, a tall, muscular guy named Marco, had been texting him earlier. I reply quickly: “Come over. Need help with something.”

Twenty minutes later Marco knocks. He barely gets inside before I shove him against the wall and kiss him hard, my hairy chest pressing into his.

“The fuck, Sergio?” he mutters, surprised—but his hands are already grabbing my ass.

“Shut up and suck my cock,” I growl, pushing him to his knees.

Marco doesn’t need much convincing. He swallows my thick, hairy dick down to the base, gagging eagerly while the real Sergio watches in humiliated shock. I fuck Marco’s throat deep and rough, one hand gripping his hair, the other tugging on my own nipples.

“Take it all, you fucking slut,” I groan in Sergio’s deep voice.

When I finally cum, I flood Marco’s mouth and make him swallow every drop. Then I bend him over the couch and breed his tight ass raw, pounding him until he’s whimpering and shooting hands-free all over the floor.

The whole time, the real Sergio is forced to feel every brutal thrust, every pulse of pleasure.

After Marco leaves, spent and satisfied, I stand in front of the mirror again, cum still dripping down my hairy thighs.

I grin at my reflection and at the broken-looking spirit beside me.

There wasn't much to do in Suburbia over the summer, especially if you were as unpopular as I was. Sure, I'd managed to collect several friends in college, but unfortunately we all lived in different cities. I wasn't lucky enough to be able to afford an apartment over the summer, which meant I was stuck back home. Discord helped counter some of the loneliness, sure, but it was the glacial pace of the weekday afternoons that was slowly driving me to boredom. So when I heard the doorbell, of course I thought it was some door to door salesman or something.

Instead, it was Dale-- the next door neighbor who used to be one of my closest friends... until he abandoned me in High School once the Football team offered him an "in" with the cool kids. "Can I come in?" he asked, scuffing his foot on the cement porch. I glared at him, trying to figure out just how much audacity he must have to be here after he made four of the past five years of my life a living hell.

"Alright, look," he said, staring intently at the door. It was uncharacteristically awkward of him, and it was throwing me off guard. "I know I was an asshole, and you're not obligated to forgive me. But I... look, one year in college was enough to show me just how unfair I was to you, and I... was hoping you'd allow me to make it up to you somehow? So that we can be friends again?" He looked into my eyes, and I could almost swear they were starting to water.

But how could it ever be enough? I scowled, crossing my arms as I glared at him. "So the rumors were true. You were outed as a gay man, and now everyone's abandoned you." I expected him to deflect, to get mad, to-- to do something!... but instead he just stared at the ground. I had gone too far. "Alright, look. I feel bad for you, I do, but... do you have any idea how much hurt you caused me? That doesn't all go away just because you've also been hurt. Just what do you think you could offer that would make me forgive you?"

He tapped the side of his neck, just under his ear. "You've got a Swapper unit, right? How about I give you access to my body, no strings attached?" He flashed me a suave grin and he flexed his bicep. No wonder he showed up at my door without wearing a shirt, he wanted to make sure I'd noticed all of the muscle he'd gained over the past few years. "And not just for tonight," he added. "Neither of us have a job over the summer, right? You can wear my body to all of the local parties I've been invited to-- hell, you can score some pussy in my body, I don't mind."

I hated to admit it, but I was definitely intrigued by his offer. My v-card was practically burning a hole in my pocket, and being inside of Dale's sexy body instead of my thin, gangly frame would make that so much easier to deal with. I gestured him inside, and he flopped down on the living room couch just like old times. "I... okay, obviously I'm interested, but... what's in it for you?"

"Well, for starters, I'd get one of my close friends back," he said, smiling at me. "But also... you were right, I got outed. A lot of people are trying to freeze me out ever since I got caught in the locker rooms with Jeff. But no one has any proof, and the person who caught us is kind of an asshole. So I figure, if people see my body hooking up with women, maybe this whole thing will blow over. I'm not exactly excited to go back into the closet, but... locker room talk, you know how it is." He paused for a few moments, glancing over at me. "Well, you don't, but trust me. Everyone loves getting their dick sucked by some twink on the downlow, but when it's a teammate sucking dick, suddenly that's a big deal."

He must have seen the concerned look on my face, because he started to panic again. "Not that I'd be sucking dick in your body," he added, wringing his hands. "I wouldn't be any having sex in your body if you're not cool with it, that's disrespectful. I'd just spend the evenings in my room, playing video games. Promise. And I... if you want, I could also take your body to the gym, build up some muscle for you?" He looked truly desperate, and I had to admit I was starting to feel bad for the guy. The two of us, sitting here like this... it reminded me of all of the good times we used to have.

"Alright, I accept," I said, letting out a deep sign. I wanted to stay angry, but seeing him in front of me, begging this hard... I didn't have it in me to reject him to his face. He reached out to shake my hand, but I stopped short. "I'm restating the terms. No sex or alcohol in my body, but I can have sex and alcohol in your body. You're cool with it, but I'm not. And no limits to how many parties I can attend in your body-- you can only deny me a body swap if you've got a family thing planned. Break either of those terms, and you're dead to me."

"Scout's honor," he said, offering his hand again. I shook his hand, and he wrapped me in a quick bro hug just like old times. "You wanna swap right now? Mike's throwing a party later tonight, and I promised I'd be there. Maybe later we can catch up, play some League or something, but I figured for your first party, you'd want time to prepare." I couldn't help but laugh. Even after all this time, he knows me so well.

And that's how I found myself standing in the middle of Dale's room, checking out his body in the mirror and sporting a half-chub at how good I looked. I should probably be happy to have one of my childhood friends back, but... to be honest, I was mostly just daydreaming about all of the sex I was going to have in his body this summer. I've seen his Instagram selfies, I'm fully aware of what I'm getting out of this trade. I'm not about to let any of that time go to waste.

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

"Dale, why did you swap with him? That body looks like ass." My boyfriend had invited me over to his place like always, but I had kept most of my afternoon a secret. I warned Jeff that I was probably going to be wearing my neighbor's body for most of the summer, and that was all that I told him in advance. "You told me this was a good surprise. Nothing about your neighbor's body is good."

I just rolled my eyes at him. I loved him, but Jeff could be so shallow sometimes. Here I was trying to give him sexy fun times, but he couldn't get past my borrowed face. "Look, not every guy can be as hot as I am, alright? It's still me inside of here. And don't forget that I wouldn't have to resort to lending my body out to my lame-ass neighbor if someone could take a cock up the butt without screaming his head off. Besides, you haven't seen what I'm packing." I dropped my boxers to the floor and kicked them aside, letting my new nine-inch coke can do the talking. He was struck speechless, and I took advantage of that rare moment to lay seductively across his bed. "I trust this body has your approval now?"

"Holy shit, yes!" Jeff climbed onto the bed next to me without taking his eyes off of my erection. "This dork is packing all of that?" he asked, practically drooling at the sight of it.

I gave it a few tugs, letting some precum build up at the tip. "I told you it was a good surprise. I've known he was packing a big one ever since we were in Middle School, but I never thought I would get a chance to enjoy it like this. Anyway-- I had to pretend that I wouldn't be having sex in his body, so I can't really do anything other than top."

The Gardener

Cody was one of the sweeter guys I’d dated. Cute, quiet, thoughtful. But I could never get a full read on what he was thinking. Every time he looked at me, it felt like he was looking at one his “projects.” He was always finding broken furniture and fixing it up, or discarded clothes and patching them. He could pull off that kind of boho-cute thing in a way I never could, just effortlessly boyish and unconcerned. I mean, the boy could pull over wearing OVERALLS for Christ’s sake. His pride and joy, though, was his tiny garden in his sunroom. He had one of those rent-stabilized deals on a weird shaped apartment in a neighborhood long before it was ever “cool” - run down, but kinda industrial, skylight… and a converted roof space turned greenhouse. His gut instinct for “potential” where others saw an eyesore paid off, and paid off big.

Which is why I sometimes felt weird that he was dating me. He was just so damn sexy without trying, that unruly hair that would somehow be less attractive if you ever tamed it, and a face that could light up a room like a Broadway marquee. Everyone who met him was instantly charmed, and the worst part was, it wasn’t an act. He actually WAS sweet, and insightful, and supportive, and could cook, and garden, and be handy, and listen to good music and, and, and….

It was almost painful.

The hottest, most successful men you could ever meet would basically be throwing themselves at him, and he’d just smile and gracefully brush them off.

I didn’t get what he saw in me at all. I was this short, kinda pale, scrawny guy, always slumped and hiding behind my glasses. Little to no sex drive, unconfident… And the weird part was, I knew his type. Cody had a history of these toned, sexy otter boys- tattoos, body hair, the whole bit. He’d talk about these underground sex parties they’d go to, the boys they’d fuck together. I just felt out of my league the whole time.

I decided to finally talk to him about it one day, when he was gardening.

“Aw, babe,” he said. “You’re way too hard on yourself. If I didn’t see a beautiful future for us, do you think I’d be dating you? You just gotta have some faith and patience.”

He waved me down to look at a pot near him.

“I planted this little guy the same day we met,” he said, as I knelt next to him. A frail stalk was held up by several strings. It looked ready to keel over.

“Looks like we’re both string beans,” I grimaced.

Cody looked up at me with his beaming eyes.

“It’s still growing,” he said, and then closed his eyes and cupped it in his palms.

The heat of the greenhouse felt oppressively stuffy all of a sudden. My vision got a little blurry.

“Yeah, I just…” I wavered. “I- … I think I need to lay down.”

I stood up, feeling a head rush, and stumbled my way to our bedroom.

The bed, the pillow-

It all went dark.

“Hey.”

I rubbed my eyes.

“Hey, Good morning.”

I blinked. Cody’s beautiful, bright face enveloped my sight.

“You were out all afternoon and night,” he said, stroking the side of my face. “You really must have needed some time to rest up.”

I stretched, my shoulders popping as I did so. I felt… well, great, to be honest. My legs stretched out under the sheet, tickling my hair…

Wait.

I threw off the sheet and looked down at my legs.

They were covered in hair! Long, black hair, over both of them. And my stomach! My chest! I mean- hair, and, and more that that- muscle!

I mean, I wasn’t like STACKED or anything, but… holy fuck! I was hairy! And was toned!

I looked over at Cody, and he simply smiled.

“What is it, babe?” he asked, rubbing my leg.

I was speechless.

“I mean- I’m… I’m hairy! I’ve got hair everywhere! And, and like… the beginnings of pecs! And-”

My hand leapt to my face.

“I have scruff?!”

Cody laughed his beautiful laugh.

“Well, yeah, Zack,” he smiled. “It’s one of the things I love about you.”

“But-” I stammered. “Cody… I… I didn’t used to have scruff? I’ve never been able to grow facial hair!”

My boyfriend just shook his head and smiled slightly.

“I remember you telling me that when I first met you, but I mean, you always have to shave every day, or it just kind of takes over.”

He gave me a peck on the cheek.

“I guess I’ve always had a thing for late bloomers,” he said, slid out of bed, and went to make breakfast.

What the fuck was going on?!

I went to the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. Hair! And sinewy, taught muscle! My hands rubbed my body all over. It was real. And was I taller?

If this was a dream, I didn’t want it to end.

I helped Cody in the garden that afternoon. It was sunny, and beautiful. All the plants seemed to almost glow in the afternoon light. I could feel myself basking in it myself.

The sun went down and I passed out after dinner, hard.

“Good morning sexy.”

Once again, the first thing I saw my boyfriend’s illuminated smile. I grinned in spite of myself.

He sat up, and then swung his leg over me, straddling me. He slowly brought his face close to mine and went in for a kiss.

I pulled him down, my hand on the back of his head. I felt his legs squeeze against my side. His hand squeezed my arm.

“Damn, Zack,” he said, smiling down at me. “That time at the gym is really paying off.”

Gym? I laughed and then stopped. My voice felt…

I cleared my throat.

“Cody?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Does my voice sound…?”

I stopped as I caught sight of my arm. I fumbled quickly for my glasses on the nightstand.

There on my forearm, was a huge, intricate tattoo.

“Holy shit!” I yelled.

Cody rolled off me and grabbed his bathrobe.

“Yeah, you have arms,” he said, as he left to make coffee. “Shouldn’t come as that much of a surprise.”

“I have a tattoo!” I yelled.

“A new one?” Cody called from the kitchen. “What does that bring you up to? Five?”

I ran to the bathroom.

I barely recognized myself.

The hair from yesterday was still there – I even had what could pass for a light beard! -  but the muscles were even bigger. I had some bulk! I looked down at myself. I was definitely taller, maybe 5'9’’? 5'10’’?

But the bigger shock was the tattoos. Crawling up my arm was a huge, beautiful tattoo. A few small, cursive font smaller tattoos dotted various parts of my body. This was insane. This was crazy!

I was changing into some muscled, tattooed, hipster jock…

… and I fucking loved it.

All day long, I couldn’t help but strut around a bit. Everything physical just felt… easier. I helped Cody repot some of his larger ferns, and then stopped and stared at him. Fuck he was beautiful.

Then I noticed it- the tiny, frail plant that he had shown me. It was… well, certainly not frail. It looked like it had sprouted several huge new vines and was downright huge compared to before.

Cody saw me staring at it.

“See? It just needed a little time, care, and love,” he said, and winked.

I was speechless.

“So, you-” I gestured at the plant. “That, me- ?”

Cody laughed his sparkling laugh.

“Not big on sentences today, are we?”

I stared at him.

“You did this,” I said. “You… you made me into this.”

Cody slowly stroked my now bearded face and stared into my eyes. Fuck I loved him.

“You had potential,” he said softly. “And I could just see how much you needed to be loved.”

It was true. I had been so lonely when I met him.

“I wanted to love you,” he continued. “So I did.”

He grinned.

“But I also wanted a big, muscle-y, hairy, tattooed, slutty himbo to help me in the garden, so…”

Wait.

“Himbo? I mean. Don’t get me wrong, I like the muscles, but,” I laughed. “I don’t feel any dumber. And I’m not exactly Mr. Sex.”

“No,” he grinned. “Not yet.”

I froze.

“Wait,” I said. “How much are you going to change me?”

He smiled.

“As much as I want, love,” he said gently. “I keep working on everything I bring home until it fits just right.”

He picked up the once-small plant and winked at me.

“Now, sleep.”

And it all went black.

“I brought you coffee, sleepyhead.”

My boyfriend’s voice slowly pulled my foggy brain up.

I yawned and stretched my massive frame, and sat up against the wall.

“Coffee?” I said gruffly, holding out my hairy hand and taking the mug Cody offered. I rubbed my eye. Man, I could just not wake up. I felt fuzzy.

I squinted down at Cody. Something was nagging me. I couldn’t remember. Fuck, he looked cute. At 5'10’’, he was a good four inches shorter than me, fresh-faced, boyish. My hand absent-mindedly pawed at my morning wood. Fuck, I love how thick I feel in these briefs.

“Having trouble waking up?” Cody asked.

I frowned.

“Heh, yeah, babe. I dunno.”

I yawned again and stretched my bulging, tattooed arms.

“Have you seen my glasses?”

Cody laughed.

“Your what?” he giggled.

Oh. Hah.

“Man,” I grinned. “I thought for a second I wore glasses. Musta been that dream you woke me up from.”

“You’re cute when you’re half asleep,” he smiled. He leaned in and kissed my neck. Fuck, I wanted to bend him over right there on the bed. His finger idly stroked the outline of my cock, thick and hardening even more, quickly.

“Heh, well, you didn’t pick me for my brains,” I chuckled.

“Nope,” he said, fully reaching past the elastic band and wrapping his hand around my dick. I moaned.

“Fuck, boy,” I managed.

“I liked that you were gentle,” he whispered. Then he suddenly stood up and looked at me, sitting on the bed, staring at him. He looked like he was eyeing the side table he’d snagged off the street and sanded and painted. That nagging feeling stung the back of my mind again. Something I was forgetting…

“Looking good,” he said, looking me up at down.

“Now fuck me like the good, hairy himbo boyfriend you are.”  

Some last memory flickered across my brain. What- …

“I’m forgetting something,” I mumbled.

Cody smiled, and whatever thought I was trying to piece together melted.

“You promised me you’d fuck me in the greenhouse,” he smiled.

Oh fuck, that must have been it.

I grinned, stood, and slid off my underwear, letting my girthy cock bounce, pointing at him.

With two steps, I moved to him, and lifted him into my arms.

His legs wrapped around my beefy frame. I strode toward the sunny garden, my wonderful boy light in my arms. I loved it here, with him, in this little Eden he had built. It just felt perfect.

His ass rubbed against my erection as I walked.

I wanted to fuck my boy in the sun, to wrap myself around him, to plant my dick deep in his ass.

“I love this,” I whispered, and teased his slender cock with my thumb.

Well, Matt.  Looks like you shouldn’t have been such a fucking dickhead because now I own you, and your dickhead.  Fuck, it was so hot hearing a big bully and straight boy stud crying like a little girl as I pushed my nerdy and scrawny body inside you.  Damn, I love the power and control.  Just look at me, I’m twisting your normally stoic face into one of vanity and domination.  And look at that nice torso.  I’m gonna be getting so many guys with a body like this. 

Holy shit I’m getting hard just thinking about all this overwhelming awesomeness.  Mmmmmmm yeah, Matt- time for me to blow my first load with your cock and balls.  I hope you shoot far because I’m gonna try to shoot some of your cum directly into your mouth so I can make you taste your own juices.

(NSFW version available on www.mastergreyswaps.com)

Oliver observed the picture of himself after the gym. He had worked hard to get this body, but behind all of this he still remember the bullying he endured in high school. Today was the day where Frankie, his main bully, had died. Two years ago, Frankie had swore to have Oliver’s body all for himself. 

“I’m just being paranoid,” whispered Oliver to himself.

“You’re sure?” asked a spectral voice.

Oliver turned and saw Frankie’s red ghost in the empty locker room.

“I told you, I’m gonna have your body, you gaylord!” shouted Frankie as he lunged at Olivier.

Oliver’s dog tag shone bright and blinded Frankie. The spirit groaned while the light got stronger and propelled him away.

Oliver observed his anti-possession alumet. “That trinket worked after all.” 

After a long sigh, Oliver cool himself down. Suddenly, his phone rang. He just received a picture from his boyfriend, Shane.

“Nice boyfriend, I’m gonna have fun with those muscles,” was written on the caption.

Oliver’s heart skipped a beat. Without delay, he got dressed and drove to Shaner’s workplace. When he arrived, people were gathered in front of the building. Shane was laying on the ground. Oliver rushed to him and shook him until he woke up.

“Oliver?” asked Shane with a groggy voice. “Think I passed out.”

The crowd around Shane left to let him breathe and the couple at a bench.

“You’re okay?” worried Oliver.

“Hm yeah, must have overworked myself,” laughed Shane.

The two hugged and kissed. At this exact moment, Oliver noticed a blue energy leaving his lips and enter Shane’s mouth.

“NNg!” Shane grabbed his head.

“Shane? What’s happening?!”

Shane ground his teeth and tremored. Then, his eyes flashed red before they came back to normal.

“Hell yeah!” Frankie spoke through Shane. “Look at this body.” He caressed his pecs through his shirt.

Oliver furrowed his brows. “Frankie.”

“In the flesh.” Frankie flashed him a smile with Shane’s flawless teeth.

“Get out of him,” Oliver said with clenched fists.

Frankie rose an eyebrow. “Or what? You’re gonna punch your own boyfriend?” Shane was forced to make an evil chuckle. “I think you gonna drive me to the nearest mall, Shane needs clothes that fit his hunky body.”

Oliver glared at Frankie.

“Unless you want me to get your boyfriend hurt?” taunted Frankie.

With no choice left, Oliver gave Frankie/Shane a ride to the mall. As expected, Frankie used Shane’s handsome features to flirt with every young lady he met. After some shopping, Frankie came back wearing an open Hawaiian shirt and a pair of jeans.

“I’m gonna score so many pussies!” he exclamed as he flexed his biceps.

“Shane is gay,” Olivier answered.

“Not with me inside,” Frankie did a pelvic thrust. “I can just feel his dick harden at the thought of tits.”

Frankie bounced his pecs and wiggled his abs to tease Oliver. However, his eyes then rolled back in and he collapsed again. 

“Oliver? What am I doing here?” wondered Shane.

During the ride back home, Oliver had to invent some fancy excuse to avoid the possession topic. For some reasons, Shane was fortunately able to be back in control. If only Oliver knew for how long though. The day went well, apart from Oliver being kind of distant, he was of course thinking about what he should do. He tried putting his anti-possession talisman on Shane and it appeared to work. It relaxed Oliver, so him and Shane proceeded to have sex. 

When Shane thrusted inside Oliver, the same blue energy from earlier went out of Oliver’s lips and right into Shane’s mouth.

“Aarrgh!” Shane closed his eyes and when he opened them they glowed red for a moment. “Goddamn, it feels good to be back in control of Romeo.”

Frankie admired his chiseled torso but then noticed his rod inside Oliver.

“Fuck, no gay shit when I’m on the driver’s seat!” Frankie was about to pull out but stopped. “Guess it’s worth it.”

“Ooooh!” Oliver moaned when Frankie pushed Shane’s nine inch staff inside his ass. “The hell you’re doing?!”

“You still didn’t understand?” Frankie grabbed Oliver by the legs. “Everytime you do some fag stuff with Shane, I get to possess him!” Frankie lifted Oliver’s ankles on his broad shoulders. “Last time was short because it was just a peck. So I’m gonna fuck the living day out of you to stay in control much longer!”

Oliver grunted. “NNgg, you can’t do this to Shane!”

“C’mon, you faggot, I know you love this, you always had a crush on me!” Frankie shouted.

Oliver felt his worst enemy fucking him with his boyfriend’s body. Shane’s innocent face had on Frankie’s devil smirk. Oliver hated it, but it was arousing him.

“Just be quick.” Oliver glanced away.

Frankie laughed and pinched his nipples. “Hmm! It should speed things up.”

Oliver gasped for air as Frankie kept on pouding him.

“UNNNG! HERE I COME!” Frankie roared with Shane’s manly voice.

Both of them trembled as Frankie shot loads of cum inside Michael. Then, they fell on the bed, panting and in sweat.

“Tell me when you’re ready for round two,” Frankie said with a breathy tone.

“Round two?” marveled Oliver.

Frankie chuckled. “I’m not a faggot, but if I have to fuck you to stay inside this sexy body, then I’m gonna do it.”

—————————-

One month later.

Shane ate the sweet in one gulp. A little bit of sugar should not ruin his Adonis frame. 

“You’re coming baby?” he asked.

“Done,” Oliver answered as he walked out of the car.

“I’m so glad that Frankie dude left my body,” Shane said.

Oliver sighed. “Don’t remind me of that jerk.”

Shane slapped Oliver on the ass. “Sorry, must be some side effect because of the possession.”

Oliver rose an eyebrow. “Let’s head to the beach already.”

“‘Kay, just lemme lock the car, I’ll join you,” Shane replied as Oliver left.

Shane looked at his reflection in the rear view mirror and laughed.