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CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Trust Us, We Make You New

CORPUS.INC continued to gain strength in the market; it was a publicly traded company, yes. It was somewhat controversial due to its practices involving body swapping and possessions here and there (activists questioned the ethics of monetizing people's bodies), but without a law to stop them, it was merely a moralistic question.

Although, of course, there were certain... under-the-table exchanges and arrangements.

The announcement that the Secretary of the Treasury was stepping down due to health issues to allow his Deputy Secretary to take over didn't surprise anyone or raise any alarms. Secretary Harwell was already too old, out of touch with certain issues, and terribly rigid. Criticism and commentary were inevitable every time he appeared on camera or gave a speech; he was a dinosaur trying to stay relevant, and that bothered people.

So, allowing his Deputy Secretary, Bennet, to take over was the best idea. He had only been selected a few weeks prior. He was strong, muscular, and attractive (because, well, image matters in politics too, right?). He displayed a mental agility and charisma that far surpassed his predecessor — of course, people loved him!

Big, strong, attractive, his Instagram was full of images that were a mix of suits and political speeches and gym sessions, self-care, and attractive selfies. He was the perfect replacement, the first step for the old generation to leave once and for all and let the new ones rise to power, right?...

— Yes, yes. I know your products are still new, I'm not complaining about that – Bennet said, flexing on the terrace of his new penthouse. There was a beautiful view of Manhattan, and he even had a pool – I know it's a prototype, I'm trusting you, but I want you to fix this.

— Mr. Harwell, as I explained, it’s normal for your old memories and those of your new body to merge; it’s a completely normal process of symbiosis. Moreover, given the semi-permanent nature of the process, it’s a reabsorption.

— Yes, but I don’t want this guy’s gay thoughts in my head! – he said in frustration. Having to stop himself with his muscles sweating and burning, he was finding it so hard not to want to smell his armpit.

It had been largely his fault. He hadn’t even given much thought to who he’d choose to be his new body; he’d just looked for attractive, muscular guys, a pretty face to be his puppet. It didn’t need knowledge of politics or finance; after all, he’d be the brains, he just needed the muscles.

And now he seriously regretted it. It turned out Bennet was addicted to smelling himself; he loved the stench of sweaty armpits, not only his own but other men’s as well. Images of him kissing other men, their muscles pressed together, panting, sweaty, and reeking. Damn! He had to stop because his tool had become "anxious."

— As I said before, Secretary Harwell…

— I don't give a damn about your explanations! Fix this now. It's the service I'm paying for! – There was silence on the other end of the line.

— Sure, we apologize. I'm sending an update to your neurotransmitter to fix the problem. Give me a few minutes. You'd better be sitting or lying down.

The man smiled victoriously. Finally, he could enjoy this new body properly. He settled into one of the outdoor chairs, put his feet up on the table, and stretched his muscular body. He waited for a while with his eyes closed, feeling nothing. He was about to ask when he felt a sharp pain in his temple. He had to stifle a scream and grip the armrests. What the hell was happening?!

— Shit! It hurts! Fix it right now!

— It's normal to feel that during the process. Please wait a second.

— I'll sue you. You sons of bitches! Ugh!

He felt the pressure in his skull increase. He squeezed his eyes and hands shut as he writhed. Images of other men surged through his mind, memories of Bennet's adventures at the gym during rush hour also surfaced, and the urge to smell his own armpits was uncontrollable.

— SHIT!

— Please wait a little longer, Mr. Bennet. The upgrade is almost finished. We thank you for hiring CORPUS.Inc, and remember: Trust us with your future – The line cut out, Bennet sat in the chair for a while longer, his breathing ragged, his headache starting to subside, he opened his eyes confused, and put his hand to his forehead, wincing in pain.

— Fuck... I need to take an aspirin or something.

He rubbed his head for a while longer. He still had some paperwork to do regarding taxes and finances; he remembered everything he needed to perform his new role in the cabinet, down to the last detail. Although... he felt more relaxed. Why had he been so annoyed moments before?

Meh. Never mind, it was better if he got to work.

Should he shower and put something on? He was all sweaty and smelly. Nah! He could work like this; after all, he loved the smell.

—-

Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don’t forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

I’m always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story… Who knows what body you will occupy this time?

"This body feels so powerful, Master." The hot young stud said as he looked at his sweaty body and flexed his muscles as if trying it for the very first time.

I was just walking around the park when I came across a group of young men playing football, most of them were unattractive, but one of them caught my attention the most. He was tanned and fit like a Greek god, his muscular arms and thick thighs moved so effortlessly as he ran and scored a goal.

I quickly grabbed the vial out of my pocket and freed my small alien slime.

"Take him, buddy. Make him mine."

My obedient pet crawled away towards the stud. The slime was so fast that no one saw when he crawled up the stud's muscular leg and disappeared under his shorts. The young man didn't have time to react; he froze for a second, his muscles tensed and his head thrashed back as his eyes rolled back. And then, his head moved back forward but now with a blank face.

"Gonna take a piss guys." He said to his friends as he walked away. I smirked and followed right behind him.

Now we're at a secluded area of the park away from his friends. This spot is really deserted, so I don't have to worry about people seeing us. I sat on a rock while the stud hovered over me like a perfect statue. I can feel his sweat droplets cascade all over me. What a sight!

"What are you waiting for, Master? Don't you wanna sniff my musky balls?"

My cock throbbed wildly at the sound of his words. Without hesitation, I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his shorts and underwear, yanking them down in one swift motion. His massive, heavy cock sprang free, bouncing heavily—even soft, it was impossibly thick and long, a veiny monster that could only belong to a sexy stud like him. His balls hung low and full, swollen with that intoxicating, powerful musk that hit me like a drug. I couldn't hold back; I dove in face-first, burying my nose right between his dick and those heavy sacs, inhaling deeply as the raw, masculine scent flooded my senses—sweaty, earthy, utterly addictive.

I took a long, greedy whiff of his musky balls, my tongue darting out to lap at the salty sweat beading on his skin. He stood there motionless at first, towering over me like a god, but soft moans and deep groans rumbled from his chest as I worshipped him. I traced every ridge and wrinkle with my tongue, sucking gently on the loose skin, savoring the tangy flavor that made my head spin. His huge, veiny cock responded instantly, swelling and hardening right before my eyes, throbbing to its full, intimidating 10 inches—rock-hard, pulsing with heat, the thick shaft was laced with bulging veins.

My hands gripped his muscular thighs for support as I lost myself in his balls, but suddenly, his strong hands clamped onto both sides of my head, fingers tangling roughly in my hair. I glanced up, confused and breathless, meeting his intense gaze.

"Master, this body... it's so fucking horny. I can't control his sex drive... I'm sorry," he growled with raw hunger.

Before I could respond, he shoved that thick, throbbing cock straight down my throat in one brutal thrust. I gagged at the invasion, the sheer girth stretching my lips wide and filling my mouth completely, but I didn't pull away—fuck no, being skull-fucked by this sexy young stud was pure ecstasy. He held my head firm and started pounding away, his hips snapping forward with relentless force, ravaging my throat like it was his personal fucktoy. Each deep plunge buried my nose in his thick, wiry bush, the musky pubes even more potent than his balls—damp with sweat, scratching against my skin as I inhaled desperately, my eyes rolling back in overwhelming pleasure. Saliva dripped down my chin, mixing with the precum leaking from his slit, and I choked on every inch, my throat convulsing around him as he grunted and thrust harder, faster, his heavy balls slapping rhythmically against my chin.

He face-fucked me mercilessly, his grip tightened and I could feel his body tensing, his breath coming in ragged bursts, until suddenly he yanked out with a wet pop. His hand flew to his slick shaft, stroking furiously—veins bulging, head flared and glistening—before he exploded. Thick ropes of hot, sticky seed shot across my face in powerful spurts, coating my cheeks, lips, and forehead in his creamy load. I gasped, tongue darting out to taste his essence.

He was panting hard now. "Was I too rough, Master? I'm sorry."

I stood up and stroked his pecs. "No need to apologize. I kinda like it. Let's go home, I want you to fuck me just as rough."

"Yes, Master."

Since that day I've been having plenty of fun with the stud whose name I learned was Ravi. My pet slime programmed what was left of his brain so that every time he played football with his friends, he would come straight to my place so I could lick his body clean and then fuck me for hours.

At the end of each fuck session, he would walk away even more sweaty than when he walked in.