C'est ne pas Nolan

A few months ago, I had been excited to receive an internship at Stuprum Financial. I don't know what I expected... fetching coffee, delivering mail, maybe getting a special project or something? Instead, I've spent the entire time doing data entry work, taking numbers from one spreadsheet and typing them into another one. It was the sort of mind-numbing busywork that could have been automated, if the owners had been willing to pay the money to make it happen. But they were too cheap to hire programmers, so here I am. If it hadn't been for my boss, I would have quit after the first day.

Not that he's a good boss, mind you-- Landon is a complete asshole, as a matter of fact. But the man is amazing eye candy, and I'm getting paid to sit at a cubical with direct line of sight into his office. He's the sort of dominant alpha who pretends that weaker men like me don't even exist. I should probably be angry that my boss barely gives me the time of day, but it means that I can stare at him for hours and he never seems to notice. It helps that he's too busy getting his dick wet as much as possible.

He's fucked all of the female interns at least once, though I know he has his favorites. There's no way any competent manager would have kept Miranda as an employee unless they were getting something else out of the deal, and Landon was definitely getting full access to what were... at least D cups? I'm a gay man, I don't know how to estimate cup sizes. I just know I have to fix all of Miranda's mistakes while she's getting railed during her 'private mentoring' sessions. The man is insatiable-- when he's not fucking a coworker, he's masturbating under his desk. I don't know when he finds time to get any work done, but that's not my problem.

Friday is one of his busier days-- the owners leave early, which means he doesn't have to be as stealthy while he fucks the women who work under him. He's got it down to a science by now-- one after lunch, and another one right before we leave for the day. So you can imagine my surprise when he called me into his office at the end of the day instead.

"You wanted to see... me... sir?" I said, my words trailing off as I walked in to see my boss standing in his office, with his shirt pulled apart to reveal his hairy chest. "Sir, what are you--"

"Shut the door behind you," he barked. "I've seen the way that you look at me, Bobby. Did you think I wouldn't notice?" To my shock, he started removing more of his clothes. "Honestly, I'm a bit flattered. And I thought, why not reward you with something you'd want?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was this some sort of trap? Was he actually bisexual? I didn't know and I didn't care. I kicked off my shoes and started pulling at my tie with a shaky hand.

He leaned in, close enough for me to be able to smell his musk. "You'd do anything to have this body, wouldn't you? Well, you're in luck. Make me an offer." God, hearing his voice whispering into my ear turned me on in the worst way.

"Can-- can I suck you off?" I blurted out.

Landon briefly smiled at me before placing his hand on my shoulder and shoving me to my knees. "I accept your terms," he said. "First you suck me off, and then you can have this body." His hand slipped down to his waistband, unleashing the thickest eight inches of manhood I had ever seen.

I was quite the cocksucker in college, but this dick was almost too much for even me to handle. It took all of my concentration to avoid gagging, especially once he grabbed my head and started thrusting. He was clearly focused on speed, and it didn't take long before his salty load hit the back of my throat. I was licking the excess off of his shaft when my vision started to blur.

"It's like I said. You suck me off, and then you can have my body." The speaker was high-pitched and a bit nasally... but also really familiar, somehow. I shook my head, trying to get my eyes to focus again. Someone who could have been my twin was kneeling in front of me, while I... my arms were massive now, and a quick grope of my body confirmed the presence of chest hair that I'd never been able to grow before. Had we switched bodies? But that was impossible! I looked over to the small mirror on my boss's desk, only to find his face staring back at me.

"Congratulations," my old body said. "You are now Landon Wagner. And now I'm Bobby Fischer. The next few days might have a bit of a learning curve, but I'm sure you'll get over it."

My hand started absentmindedly playing with my nipples as I tried to process what was happening. "I don't... I don't understand. You're probably the sexiest man I've ever met in real life." I could feel the excitement building in my chest, but life was never this kind to me. There had to be some sort of catch. "Why would you want to... are you really just giving all of this away?"

My former boss just shrugged. "That's right, Bobby. I mean, Landon. Get used to your new life, because I am not switching back."

Something about his calm tone of voice was making me start to panic. "My life sucks, why would you want mine? Look, I'm honored, sir, but I... I don't know the first thing about being you." I didn't know what the catch was, yes, but there was no way it was worth it. "This is-- no, we have to switch back. Switch us back!"

"Oh, God no," he said, pausing to stare at me as he started putting his clothes back on. "I'm Bobby Fischer, the stand-out intern who's about to get an offer for permanent employment. And when my bosses figure out that my work is high quality, as if I have decades of experience? Shit, I'll be climbing that ladder in no time. Sure, I'll have to start over at the gym, but that's nothing I can't handle.

"Meanwhile, you? C'mon, Landon, did you really think you could fuck all of the interns without HR noticing?" He started laughing at me as a wave of sickening nausea ran through my body. "You weren't getting away with it, they were just building a case against you. Shit-- your ass is grass. Gotta learn how to keep it in your pants, bro! You let the thrill of the chase get to your head, and now you're about to lose it all. They're gonna fire you, Landon. It's not an 'if', it's a 'when'."

I collapsed to the floor, trying to process everything that was happening to me. I finally got to mess around with my hot boss-- I got to become my hot boss-- only now I was stuck with his shitty life? I would be stuck dealing with his fallout while he gets to take my clean reputation and bail out without any consequences. Well, other than the consequence of trying to make something positive out of my own shitty life, I guess.

All I could do was watch as the new Bobby Fischer walked out of my new office, leaving me alone and half naked on the floor.

So, this is me now. Becoming my toxic alpha bro boss was... not something I would have planned, but hey-- it could be worse, right? Honestly, I'm still not sure which of us ended up with the short end of the stick. He's definitely got a higher ceiling for success-- but that's only if he can get promoted all of the way back up. I'm sure that would be a ton of money... but until then, he's only getting a junior salary, and he's stuck in my body to boot. Regaining the muscles he used to have takes time, and he's stuck with that baby face no matter what he does.

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. "Okay, yes. 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 sigh. 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.

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"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, only 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."

I am so fucked. I was tired of seeing old man Warren strutting around the gym, judging everyone who wasn't in as good of shape as he was-- as if we all have 15+ hours a week to devote to the gym. He was an absolute fucking asshole, so I figured I'd humiliate him by turning him into my jockstrap. Most people here have no idea that I'm a magic user, so he never saw it coming. Easy enough right?

He made for a shitty jockstrap too, if I'm being honest. The elastic was pretty worn, and the fabric was getting threadbare in places-- I guess because of how old he was?-- but the thought of keeping him in my smelly gym bag and rubbing my junk all over his smug-ass face filled me with glee. I was gonna turn him back after a few days, really I was-- only when I was taking him off, I tripped and tore a huge hole in him! How the fuck does that even happen?

I had already pushed my luck by not turning him back human on the same day-- if the Enforcers find out what I've done, they'll probably revoke my license. I'm already on thin ice for stealing the muscles of a bully who shared a bunch of before and after photos online and attracted mundane attention. Like it's my fault the guy turned out to be a wannabe influencer? But no, they charged me for the cleanup and suspended my license for a few weeks. No clue what the punishment would be for accidentally killing a man, but it can't be good.

I knew the spell to turn Warren back into a human would fail if the jockstrap was too damaged, so all I can really do is take him home and try to repair him. It was a pain in the ass trying to use magic to fix everything, but it's not like I have any other choice. My patch job looks like shit, but as long as it still works like a jockstrap it will probably be fine? I went ahead and put him through the laundry, too, just in case the gross smell is gonna cause issues. Time to cast the reversal spell and hope for the best!

The human that used to be a jockstrap punched me square in the jaw and then slammed me into the wall. "I oughta beat the shit out of you," he said, gripping my shoulder so tight it hurt. The voice sounded familiar, but it didn't sound like Warren. "I'm sure this wasn't part of your plans. It happened all the same, so I'll let you off the hook... but if you try any of that shit again, I will make sure you regret it. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yessir," I said reflexively, trying to twist out of his grip. It wasn't until he let go of me that I had the opportunity to figure out what the hell had happened. The man standing in front of me couldn't have been have been older than 30, with solid abs and a permanent scowl-- a splitting image of Warren. I had managed to restore a solid chunk of his youth by repairing the jockstrap!

I found him in my bathroom, flexing his arms as he examined his new body in the mirror. "Look, Warren... I can't let you stay like this," I said, feeling my voice catch in my throat. I might be the stronger person thanks to my magic, but that didn't make him any less intimidating. "Everyone still remembers you as an elderly man. If people see you like this... it raises too many questions. Magic... it has to stay a secret. I was gonna erase your memory when I was done with you. I-- I still have to erase your memory," I added, feeling my resolve weaken under his steady glare.

He turned to stare at me, slipping one of his hands into his waistband and slipping it down to reveal the base of his fat cock. "Are you sure about that, champ? I've seen the way you look at us guys in the gym. If you keep me young and healthy, why... I'd make sure that it was worth your while. But I can't do that in my old age, now can I?" He shoved his hand deep into his junk before grabbing my face, rubbing the smell of his musk all over my face. "It would be such a shame if you can't enjoy any of this." I could feel my knees weakening under his unyielding gaze.

So... yeah. That's how I ended up becoming friends with benefits to one of the biggest assholes at the gym. If anyone ever finds out what I've done, my license is absolutely getting revoked, no question... but it's been a few weeks now, so I guess everything worked out okay? I'm not skilled at memory magic, so we just came up with a cover story that involved Warren dying and giving everything away to his lost son, Jeremy. He'll probably have to get a new job at some point, but seeing as how he regained 30+ years of youth I don't think he's too upset about the sudden end of his retirement.

It turns out having a list of over 5,000 photos and stories across 10 years of having an account all jumbled together is neither useful nor productive. Go figure! I've already talked about being a writer and a reblogger in this post. And since I'm already writing... I figure I should put my money where my mouth is, and reblog things too.

Charles had just finished his workout, which was his favorite time to take selfies. The gym always had great lighting, and the sweat accentuated his muscles in a way that gave each photo a raw, masculine vibe. He'd taken a few really good ones when a text message from Paxton popped up. "Hey, I've got that sponsorship deal in a few hours, but it'll take time to get ready. Are you done with the body yet?"

God, his life was weird. Paxton was his roommate, a complete stranger he'd met through a Facebook group. Meeting new people after college was hard, and they seemed compatible enough based on his profile. And they were, except it turned out that magic was real, and Paxton knew how to use it. Charles should have hated the guy-- three weeks after they moved in together, Paxton stole his life with a body swapping spell. But honestly, Paxton did a pretty good job trying to follow all of his fitness habits, and Charles welcomed the break from his strict training regimen. When the life of a professional bodybuilder became overwhelming, Paxton was willing to swap back instead of ruining his life. He accepted the olive branch at face value, rather than trying to seek revenge against the warlock-- Charles was just happy that everything was back to normal.

He treated his bodybuilding career as more of a hobby than anything else-- he loved spending time in the gym, but he knew that the prize money wasn't enough to live on. His remote white collar job supported paid just enough to support his hobbies and passions, and that's how he liked it. In a world where fitness coaches and influencers were everywhere, trying to turn his passion into a steady paycheck sounded like a nightmare. Paxton, however, was convinced that his roommate had what it took to make it big. So when the warlock proposed a body swapping deal, well... Charles knew that the man wasn't bluffing.

Charles would be guaranteed to keep his body during workouts and competitions, hangouts with his bros, and to sleep at night. Paxton would take his body for social networking events and as many healthy meals as their schedules permitted. In exchange, Paxton would get to take his body for nights out on the town as arranged in advance. It was a lot of swapping, but it really did seem like a fair arrangement. Charles figured it was worth it to be able to skip all of the calorie counting and protein math that was expected of a successful bodybuilder. If he ever had to eat another bland chicken and rice meal again, it would still be too soon. Eventually Paxton would get tired of their deal, and the two men's lives would go back to normal for a second time.

Although it turned out that he had severely underestimated Paxton's dedication. His roommate was constantly borrowing his body for videos, networking, and countless social media thirst trap posts. Charles now had an account on every major social media platform, and all he had to do was take the occasional workout pic so that Paxton could upload them when it was his time with the body. He wasn't sure how many followers were needed to be considered successful, but he couldn't deny that the numbers kept surpassing his expectations.

Once Paxton managed to secure a promo code with one of his favorite supplement brands, that was when he had to admit that his roommate might have been onto something. "The photos look excellent, you make me look really good," he said, complimenting Paxton once they had swapped back for the evening. "So... how much are they paying you... me... us for this deal-- a few thousand?"

Paxton chuckled. "Well, it's commission based, so we won't know for sure until we get the first paycheck. But I'm optimistic," he added, with a mischievous smirk on his face. Charles knew by now not to press for more information. Paxton would reveal the secret when he was ready, and not a moment earlier. Well, it didn't really affect him all that much. Charles was thankful for the remote nature of his job, since it meant he didn't lose any productivity whenever he suddenly found himself 100 pounds lighter. The deal must not have been a complete failure-- Paxton had made plans for a photoshoot to film a quick celebratory post on his accounts.

"So how much has the sponsorship paid so far?" Charles asked, after taking some nice candid photos of his body at Paxton's request. "You seem happy, so I gotta assume it was at least a few hundred." After recording several takes of a video thanking his followers for their support, the anticipation was killing him.

"A few hundred?" Paxton said, laughing as he gave his original body a few condescending pats on the head. "We've already made over fifteen thousand."

Charles shook his head in disbelief. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard you. The sponsorship has only been live for... what, four weeks? Surely you meant to say fifteen hundred."

Paxton placed his hand on Charles's shoulder. "I meant what I said. I told you this body has what it takes to make it big. Even splitting the earnings 50/50, I'm making enough money that it makes more sense for me to quit my job and focus all of my time on your career. All you have to do is keep this body in shape, and I'll be able to keep the money coming."

What's the point in travelling for Spring Break if you don't have the right body to go along with it? I had managed to score an ocean view at one of the best hotels in Myrtle Beach, so the next thing on my list had been finding a muscular body to rent for the weekend. The Swapper Listings were filled with young men taking advantage of the tourism season to make bank, and I certainly wasn't going to complain.

Like this total hunk-- when I saw his profile picture, I knew that I had to have him. Spending two grand was more than I had spent on the hotel room, but you get what you pay for. And sure, booking him through the official website meant having to pay more... but it was worth it to schedule the swap in advance. The last thing I wanted to risk was showing up and finding out that all of the good bodies were already taken. Besides, booking through the Swapper website meant creating a paper trail just in case the guy tried to do something weird in my body. Not that I was overly worried about it, but I'd heard a few horror stories. I was not above spending a few extra bucks for piece of mind.

I had Scott meet up with me in my hotel room so that we could verify each other's photos, trade a few days' worth of clothes, that sort of thing. One Venmo payment later, and I found myself swapping into the hottest body I'd ever had. Everything just felt so... strong. Even my posture was different. My old body slouched, but this? Chest forward, head held high... my nose caught a whiff of his musk, and I could feel my new manhood beginning to stir. God, I was going to have so much fun in this body.

I heard Scott cough politely behind me. "Before you explore my body too much, let's finish up the paperwork." He pulled out a few of the pages that I'd scanned without reading too closely.

"Oh, umm..." A lot of his clients must have skipped over those pages, because he just laughed when he saw the look on my face.

"Yeah, I know," he said, nodding his head. "That's why I like to review them here. Most of it's legalese, but this section right here is the liability clause. It outlines what we can and cannot do in each other's bodies. We can choose which of these forms to fill out-- diet, alcohol, sex, that sort of thing. Which, I'm assuming you want to avoid any restrictions."

I replied by flexing his arm. Damn, that felt good. "I didn't rent a Ferrari just to spend the whole trip driving the speed limit," I said, basking in the strength of my new body. "Whatever I need to sign, I'll do it. But I'm spending my vacation eating good food, hitting up the clubs, and getting laid."

He smiled at me. "Hey, no surprises here, most of my customers sign the waiver. But renting out my body is my main gig, so I gotta make sure the paperwork's done right." He had me initial a few pages, and then we were done. "Thanks again for your patronage, and enjoy my body!" he said, shaking my hand.

A body like this? I would definitely be enjoying it. Looking through the clothes he left with me, it was a mix of casual gymwear and form-fitting khakis and polos. The man definitely knew his target audience, I'll give him that. It was only 2pm... did I want to hit the beach, or explore my new strength at the gym? The half-chub at my crotch proposed a third option-- jerk off with my new cock.

"I've got the entire weekend," I said to myself, kicking off my shorts. "I'll just explore this new body now, and the beach will still be there when I'm done.

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The weirdest part of dating a Professional Swapper was never quite knowing what body he would be in. Of course, I always liked the surprise. We had the routine down at this point-- I'd wait for him at our favorite club, and at some point he'd walk up to me and deliver the code phrase. The anticipation was always my favorite part. Was it the silver fox in the corner? The lanky nerd hovering near the jukebox? The heavyset bear making small talk with the bartender? I held my breath every time someone walked near me. For a moment I thought Scott was the silver fox, but it was just some guy shooting his shot. Flattering, but not tonight.

It was the lanky nerd who approached me after the older man walked away. "Hey, papi. This is me for the weekend, what do you think?"

I grabbed him by the chin and gave him a deep kiss. Usually his clients were at the bottom of the barrel for at least one reason or another, but this guy was actually kind of charming, in a shy sort of way. Clearly the body's real owner was working through a few self-esteem issues. Or maybe he just wanted a shortcut to massive muscles-- God knows I've been tempted to swap with Scott once or twice. "This one's pretty cute," I said, once our lips parted. "Did he sign the waiver?"

"Of course he signed the waiver, it's Spring Break. He thinks he's gonna have unlimited sex in my body, as if casual hookups are ever that easy. Total dweeb, too-- called my body a Ferrari." He grabbed my shirt collar, and rested his head against my shoulder. God, I loved it when he roleplayed as a submissive bottom! He knew exactly how to turn me on, no matter what body he was wearing.

Dedicated to my rock, my valentine, my husband, my everything-- @mergeman.

The hulking brute remained utterly calm, despite everything we had done to him. "Come now, Dorian," he said. "I thought you wanted to talk." The were-jock glared at me from the other side of the metal cage, making unblinking eye contact as he spoke. I'm sure he hadn't expected to be overpowered during a full moon-- it had taken four guys to subdue him, and another two to get him safely bound like this. I had to call in a lot of favors with the football players that I tutor, and they probably thought I was into some seriously kinky shit now. But it was going to be worth it.

I smiled at him, leaning against the outer frame of his cage. "You wound me, Stephan. I do want to talk-- but I can't have you transforming me." He lunged forward, gnashing his teeth. He was probably trying to scare me, so I made sure to hold my ground and avoid flinching. He wasn't going anywhere, and we both knew it. The collar around his neck was chained to the center of his cage, and his ankles were cuffed and chained to the floor. The cuffs binding his wrists together were wholly unnecessary given that the cage was a six foot cube, but there was no point in being reckless when my intelligence was at stake. Without that... I was nothing.

"I've already seen what you did to Melvin. He came here on a full-ride academic scholarship, and now the man barely has enough mental fortitude to tie his shoes," I said, clenching my fist. "He was my best friend, until you changed him. You stole him from me, and replaced him with that... that meathead!"

Stephan smiled at me, as he lifted his arms to grab onto the roof of the cage. "I've helped so many weaker guys abandon their sad lives to embrace the brotherhood, I can't possibly remember all of them. Why do you care so much about him, anyway?" I took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. He wanted to me lose my cool, and I was not about to let him win.

"I'll just have to pull up his Instagram to remind you," I said, pulling out my phone. "I bet you're not used to your victims leaving evidence behind, are you?" I thrust my arm into the cage, showing him my phone as if he had any reason to care. It would give me closure, at least.

"Everything was completely normal. Selfies, photos of his research for one of our upcoming competitions... and then he meets you. He starts getting bigger, even if he doesn't notice the changes. And then we have a full moon." I select one of his most recent gym selfies and brandish at him as if it's a holy symbol. "Now his chest is twice as wide, and his muscles rival the football team's mass! Who paid you to do this to him? Who's trying to sabotage our debate team!?"

Stephan just laughed at me. "Sabotage? Do you hear yourself right now? No one gives a shit about your stupid debate team, Dorian. Did it ever occur to you that he reached out to me himself? You make it sound like I'm going around attacking men, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. He's the one who came to me, they all do. Melvin realized that making his personality all about being smarter than everyone else was also the very thing making him feel alone and isolated. He wanted community, friendship, brotherhood... he just wanted to belong, for once in his pathetic life. And now that he's part of my pack... he does!"

"I know you don't believe me," he added, seeing the expression on my face. "But that's fine. In another minute or two, you'll find out for yourself just how much better life in the brotherhood will be."

My phone clattered to the floor as I clutched my stomach in a panic. "You... you're lying," I said, feeling my breathing starting to quicken. My stomach had been rolling, but that was just my nerves, the stress of talking to such a fierce enemy... wasn't it? Now that I had lost my focus, I could feel it-- the worst nausea I'd ever had... or a sudden loss of abdominal fat? "This... this isn't a transformation, I'm just panicking," I said, looking up at him. "You can't... you've been caged this whole time. You can't even spit on me, let alone bite me!"

Stephan laughed. "Well now, those would all be really good safeguards if I was some sort of furry werewolf, huh? But I'm a were-jock. We work through sweat and pheromones." I look up at him-- the sweat is glistening off of his tattooed chest, and his arms are fully raised to make sure that his dank pits are unimpeded. This had been his plan from the beginning. "You really thought I couldn't overpower four normal humans? No, I just wanted unrestricted access to the guy who kept snooping around in my business. So thanks, Dorian! You couldn't have made it easier for me."

I tried to run away, but my vision was swimming-- would I still need glasses when this was over? No-- I had to stop this-- if it was scent based, all I had to do was flush my nasal cavities... somehow... dammit! I set up this cage so far away from prying eyes that I was also too far away from anything that could help me! I clutched my face as a stabbing headache dropped me back down to my knees. Someone was screaming-- was it me?-- and my vision faded to black as--

"I wasn't planning to press charges," I said, leaning against the railing as some random police officer tried to intimidate me. In retrospect, I probably should have expected this. A giant cage out in the middle of the woods was not exactly subtle, and it probably wasn't too hard for them to trace it back to the guys that Dorian had bribed to set it up. If anything, it was a miracle the cage had gone unquestioned as long as it had, given that they'd abandoned it in the brush behind the football stadium.

The last thing I needed was police officers swarming around me and my pack, getting suspicious about our actions. With luck, this was just a routine investigation and not a precursor to something annoying. "They let me out after a half hour, and it's not like they actually hurt me," I said, with a shrug. "It's no big deal. I just figured it was a fraternity hazing prank or something. I did plenty of dumb shit at that age, I'm no rat."

The officer stared at me before relenting. "Well, if you change your mind, stop by the station at any time," he said, handing me his business card. I waited for him to leave before ripping it to shreds. I knew I would win whatever showdown we might have, if it came down to it, but I also knew that fighting with the police would be more trouble than it was worth. There was no shame or weakness in laying low if it meant keeping our secrets.

I pulled out my phone to send Dorian a text. "Check in. Police snooping around. Be wary. Let me know if they grief you." Usually the men I converted were a lot less socially connected, but Dorian hadn't left me with much of a choice. I had to convert him before he made things any worse for me.

"Yes, sir. They haven't yet, you'll be the first to know if they do." Then he sent me his check in photo, with both him and Melvin. I just rolled my eyes. Sometimes Love is blind, while other times Love needs to lose 50 IQ points before it can finally stop overthinking and confess its true feelings for another man. As if someone as selfish as Dorian would have risked his life to confront me over someone who was just a platonic friend.

This is a weird one-- maybe you'll like it, maybe you won't, but either way here it is out of my head and onto the page. Heavily inspired by THIS older, non-tf story.

I've always gotten along great with my brother-in-law Jeremy. You'd never guess that by just looking at us-- he's the epitome of a hulking muscle jock, while I'm more of the slender, bookish type. But his wife and my husband are siblings, and neither of us knew that magic was real until after we had each gotten married.

"So, I hear Rebecca recently cast a spell on you," I said, placing a beer on the table in front of him. "And Rebecca says that it has massively spiced up your bedroom, whatever it is, so now Samuel wants to cast it on me. They're probably trading notes as we speak. So what can you tell me about it?"

He smiled at me, giving me a smug grin before taking a huge swig from his can. "Sorry, bro. Becca's already sworn me to secrecy about it. She knows how gossipy you get, and they both want it to be a surprise."

"Okay, true," I admitted. "But I have ways of getting you to talk... like this!" I lunged forward, grabbing the baseball cap off of his head. He let out the weirdest scream before chasing after me.

It didn't take long for him to catch up to me, of course, but instead of our normal tug of war banter, he just stood over me. "Bruh. Not the hat, not today. Just... give it back. I can't tell you anything else. We can get together after Sam casts it on you, and get drunk about it then. Okay? But it's a surprise."

I stared at him, noticing how he was panting heavily for breath despite exerting very little effort. His nipples had completely hardened, and I could see them poking through the fabric of his tight polo shirt. Was this going to be some sort of constant arousal spell? No wonder Samuel was eager to cast it on me. Jeremy wasn't going to tell me either way, so I apologized and gave him his hat back. The four of us had an enjoyable afternoon, though my anticipation overshadowed everything else.

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

"You've been patiently waiting this whole time," Samuel said, once Jeremy and Rebecca had left. He smiled as he started tracing runes of power in the air, his fingers glowing with magical energy. I don't think I could ever get tired of seeing him casting spells like this, but I know he hates it when I fawn over things he considers to be completely normal. "I suppose you want me to cut to the chase?"

"Only if you do," I said, adjusting the cuff of my sleeve. The casual indifference was his favorite part of foreplay, and I knew how to play my part well. "I'm fine with the dining room. You know how much I hate cleaning the sofa afterwards."

Samuel stepped forward, lowering himself onto his knees to unfasten my pants. "You really are cutting to the chase," I said, placing my hands on the top of my head. He seldom enjoyed oral-- he was more about sloppy makeouts and topping-- so I was certainly not going to object. My cock sprang to attention as he rolled down the waistband of my boxers. He grabbed it firmly in his left hand, causing me to let out a soft moan as the warmth of his grip rippled up my spine.

I had expected him to start playing with the tip of my manhood with his tongue, but instead he pulled his hand away-- taking my cock and balls with him. "What the fuck?" I yelled, too confused to be angry. "That's mine, give that back!" I could feel it resting against the hardwood floor where he had placed it, and I could feel his fingers tracing my shaft as he kept casting whatever spell he had in mind.

After what felt like an eternity, he picked it back up off of the floor. I extended my hand to take it from him, but instead he started pulling and stretching it as if it were made of taffy. I let out a panicked cry, but it didn't actually hurt. Samuel was turning my junk into a silk necktie in front of my eyes. The process was edging me to the point of madness-- my body responded like I was rock hard-- but my body may as well have been a Ken Doll for all that it mattered. I looked up at him with desperation in my eyes.

"It's easy enough to reverse," he said, flashing that same smug grin that had caused me to fall for him all those months ago. "Even though it's just a necktie, you can feel everything." He ran his fingers along the length of the tie for emphasis, and it felt as if his fingers were teasing the shaft of my erect cock. "Everything except completion, that is. Now you can walk around in public with a massive erection, and only you and I will know the truth of it. Only I get to control when you can cum."

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

I apologized to Jeremy the next time we met up-- how could I have ever known that his wife had turned his dick into a hat? He knew right away that Samuel had turned mine into a necktie, and we commiserated over the feeling of constant edging. Maybe our spouses would get tired of the spell over the next few weeks... but maybe not. Neither of us wanted to admit to the other that we actually liked it.

I anchored my cock in place with the tie clip that Samuel had bought for this purpose-- it was enough of a sensory overload to feel through the silk necktie without it flapping around in the wind. For the most part, I was used to the feeling of my own hands on my new cock, as well as the reassuring warmth as it rested against my chest. I was no longer embarrassed every time I had to sit down to pee, although I do miss being able to use a urinal. Samuel doesn't give me any time with my real cock outside of our time in the bedroom, and I'm slowly getting used to the feeling of absence between my legs.

He came up behind me and traced his fingers across the raised stripes-- he loved hearing me gasp for breath at the sudden, unexpected sensations. "I've already made our dinner reservations for tonight," he said as he rubbed my shoulders. "There's also a tailor nearby... I thought maybe we could also get you measured for a new suit?" I looked into his eyes. We both knew a tailor would brush his hands against my tie while collecting my measurements. I bit my lip, and nodded in agreement.

I wanted to punch Henry in the face so badly. Even as limited as we were by the webcam, I could just tell that the man was insufferably full of himself. He was always showing off his chest, and even his professional profile photos looked like they belonged on a dating website. Unfortunately for me, Henry was the representative for the European Branch Office, and I had to deal with his smug face on a daily basis. My team was the only one that could program quickly enough to meet deadlines, and his team was the only one familiar enough with GDPR Laws to make sure we were still within global compliance.

I had to admit, the work we had been producing had been exceeding everyone's expectations. Replacing the off-the-shelf software with someone specifically designed and programmed to suit our needs was going to streamline the new client onboarding process, which our sales team promised would result in at least 15% annual growth. It all sounded like corporate buzzspeak to me, but we were three weeks ahead of schedule, and I could already taste my promotion.

Sure, having to be in the office at 5AM for our weekly touch-base meetings was rough, but that was just the reality of global business and time zones. And honestly, I was more than happy to do it. It was easier to discuss any issues in an online meeting rather than a handful of delayed back and forth emails. And my boss was more than happy to avoid paying the airfare needed to meet in person to keep his budget on target. Or so I had thought, until he invited me out to a lunch meeting. That was never a good sign.

"So what has changed, sir?" I asked, once I had finished my pastry. "We both know you only use lunch meetings to soften the blow of bad news. You're not downsizing my team, are you?"

He just smiled at me. "No, although by the time I'm done, you might wish that was the case. Now that we're in the final stretch of your project, Management wants both departments to have a subject matter expert on hand. You're doing great work, but it would be even more efficient without the 9 hour time difference. This sort of project is exactly why we paid for a Cuerpo Inc subscription."

I could feel the bottom of my stomach drop. We only paid for the basic package, which meant only salaried members of management could swap bodies. And as the lead programmer, I was the only salaried worker with programming knowledge. "But... no, I can't... boss, there has to be another way. Putting some stranger inside of my body, living my life? You know I don't--"

"This isn't a request, Erik. Your protests have been noted, and I have done everything I can to accommodate your preference to avoid body swapping," he said. "This is now a required work expectation. Go home, take the afternoon off, get your affairs in order. Report to Cuerpo Inc at 10:00 pm for swapping, or we will be accepting your resignation instead."

The swap itself was pretty straightforward. One moment it was a cloudy night in Seattle, and the next moment it was a sunny morning in Barcelona. I expected his clothing to be the first thing that I noticed about being in Henry's body, but honestly it was his smell. The man clearly took pride in his natural musk, and being at its epicenter was... overwhelming.

Part of the swap protocol was to hop onto a quick camera call in case either of us had questions about the 'maintenance and upkeep' instructions that we left for each other. Not that there was much to question on my end-- Henry had the audacity to write "Have Fun :)" and nothing else. I had left him detailed instructions for my morning routine-- hair care, hygiene routine, multivitamins-- but he just smiled, folded it up, and slipped it into his pocket.

"You Americans, always so professional," he said, shaking his head. "So serious, so puritanical. I can promise you now, I will not be in the office any more than the 40 hours required by our contract. And I will be taking the time to enjoy myself in your skin. Responsibly, of course," he added, before I could protest. "One thing I should mention, my wife lives with me, of course. Also her son, my step-son, is staying with us after college while he searches for a job. I mention it because Melissa and I, we have... an open relationship. Feel free to enjoy that if you like." He paused, seeing the look on my face. I wasn't great at hiding my emotions on a good day, and dealing with Henry was never a good day. "Or if it bothers you that much, let my boss know and he'll arrange for a hotel on the corporate card."

"I respect your relationship, but I will, ahh, I will not take you up on that... offer," I said, hoping that I sounded diplomatic. "As long as you have a guest bedroom, a hotel room should not be necessary." Part of the Cuerpo Inc terms of service involved providing at minimum a separate bedroom to avoid awkward family situations such as this. And honestly, I'd heard worse horror stories before, I was just looking for any excuse to hate the man. We couldn't all be single, middle-aged men who spent too much time on their career to try and navigate a relationship.

It was surprisingly easy to slip into my routine in Henry's body. To my relief, Melissa arranged for a week abroad with her friends once it became clear that I had no interest in having sex with her. That just left Henry's step-son, Victor-- but he was an adult, if only barely, and he kept to himself. That left me free to work from home, explore the city for local restaurants, and enjoy the experiences of another country.

As much as I disliked Henry as a person, his body was... quite nice. Especially when the man wasn't inside of it. Poor Victor, I could only hope the walls weren't thin, because I completely forgot he was there when I ravaged myself the first night after Melissa left. Henry's nipples were very sensitive, and his uncut cock felt amazing in my borrowed hands. "Fuck me harder, Erik," I yelled, looking at my reflection and imagining it was him. "I'm just a dumb manslut, make me your bitch!" I felt a bit guilty once I shot my load all over the bedroom mirror, but he was the one who told me to have fun. And anyway, masturbation was probably barely on the list of things he expected me to do in his body, the arrogant bastard.

It was so easy to slip into my routine that I hadn't even thought about what Henry was getting up to in my body. If I hadn't happened to see one of my Junior Programmers online, I honestly don't think it would have crossed my mind. "You're at work early," I said, messaging him through Teams. "I'm sure you're just flexing time or something. I trust you all have been able to work well under Henry's direction. It must be weird, seeing my body and knowing that I'm not the one inside of it. Do you ever forget that it's not really me?"

I had expected him to provide a quick reply, so seeing those three dots appear and disappear over and over again was... not reassuring. "Yeah, it would be very difficult to confuse you with Henry," he finally wrote. And then he attached a photo.

I was so furious that my body started shaking with rage. What in the actual fuck was I wearing? The loafers were currently in vogue, fine. But he must have dug deep into my closet to find pants that would go that high up my waist, and then he rolled up the cuffs to make them look even worse-- and that was one of my nice silk ties that he was using as a fucking belt! Seeing my shirt that far unbuttoned, as if anything about my pale, lanky chest was worth showing off... I looked utterly ridiculous. He knew it, too, I recognized that damn smirk of his. Henry clearly had no respect for my body.

Well, fine, two could play that game. If he wasn't going to respect my body, there was no reason to respect his, either. He wanted me to have fun? Oh, I was going to have fun, alright. I downloaded Grindr to my phone and started setting up a profile. With a face like this, it wouldn't be too difficult to find someone to fuck me senseless.

To my surprise, the local grid informed me there was a match less than one meter away. The profile was mostly blank, just a photo of some nice abs, but... Henry lived in a house on the outskirts of the city. The only way someone could be this close would be if-- it was Victor. Oh, that would be too perfect.

I was a bit worried that I would regret everything once I had calmed down, but I had to admit that Victor was a great lay. Victor was all too eager to seize the opportunity to fuck his step-father, and I couldn't blame the man. He was still in the closet around his family, so the constant temptation of forbidden eye candy like Henry must have been maddening.

Victor was delighted to learn that he was two inches longer than his step-father, and I was more than happy to bottom for him. As long as Victor and I stopped a day or two before we had to swap back, Henry would be none the wiser. As for Victor and I, well... we had made sure to mark each occasion with a lot of photographs that I forwarded to one of my private email addresses.

Yet again, it's time for the annual Year in Review post. I've done this previously in 2021, 2022, 2023, and 2024. I may not be the most prolific author, but hopefully you remember seeing me around? Aiming for one story a month helps me maintain a consistent writing habit, and the low expectations help me to avoid burnout.  I've considered trying to add a monetization angle, although... maybe it's just the pessimist in me, but I just feel like it would get used so rarely that it would be more depressing than helpful. I can't imagine that something like Ko-fi would get used enough to be worth the hassle, and trying something like Patreon or Paid Commissions just seems like an easy way to turn a hobby into something stressful. And anyway, I'm not here to make money. I'm here to share the love of TF fiction.

I'm sure this hobby will end eventually, but as long as I can get solid engagement out of it, I plan to keep going with it. I cannot stress this enough-- if you want to support an amateur creator like me, the best way to do that is by paying attention to them. Likes are good, reblogs help with visibility, and messages are greatly appreciated. I don't know many artists who don't enjoy talking about their work, and taking the time to drop a line helps so much. I do this to see the reactions of other people-- if people stop reacting, then I will stop creating. I don't mean that to be a threat, just... that's the nature of online creation, you know? My joy comes from the community's response.

It's time for that annual tradition, wherein I collect and hyperlink a lot of stories that I really enjoyed reading. You can find the prior installments here-- Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3. Allow me to repeat a few disclaimers-- it's a subjective list, so you won't find celebrities, athletes, or sweat/fart transformations. If your writing has involved minors or pro-Conservative viewpoints in the recent past, you are not on this list. If I can't credit or hyperlink the OG post, it doesn't appear on this list (particularly relevant, given authors like theshift, dadnotize, swappermanent, or take-my-body-from-me whose blogs are deleted). This also applies to the myriad authors who are currently in Tumblr Safe Mode jail, so allow me to shoutout authors like @betweenthelinesfiction and @malebodyexhibit. All works are assumed to be original and not AI written. If I've seen you leave an AI generation prompt in your work, you are not on this list. Once again, an honorable shoutout to @verus-veritas, who is upfront about their AI usage. If you think my criteria is too restrictive, you can create your own list.

But also-- please do create your own list! Don't take your community of authors for granted-- without the love and support of readers, we're just shouting into the void. If I thought all of my work was going to get ignored, I wouldn't be doing this anymore. One of the best ways to keep an author active and engaged is to show them support and encouragement.

Aside from grouping multiple works by the same author together, he list is presented in no particular order:

In case anyone is curious, I've started an alternative archive of my work here on AO3. It's not a complete archive-- there are no photos, so any stories that relied heavily on the photo elements have been omitted. Also things where ownership gets tricky and/or the main audience is very personal, like the Valentine's Day stories. But given how many years I've been writing at least one story per month... I would be bummed if it were all to be lost. 70k words is quite a lot of time and effort, you know?

I decided to place it onto AO3 because I am an masochist I want to hedge my bets on a website unlikely to fold to puritanical pressures. Also, unlike other options, I can pretend that AO3's tagging system will allow other people to stumble across that work. It's very clear that Original Works are not the main intent of AO3, but at least I control the method of posting.

As a bonus, I've released a longer work exclusive to AO3 called Transformative Hazing. Longer stories seldom do well on Tumblr and I can't be assed to find that many photos but for those of you who do like longer narratives, I figure I'd let you know that it exists. I have no plans to edit and polish it for publication like I did for Dicked (Over) by a Demon so what you see is what you get.

Aiden wasn't normally the type of person who believed in superstitions, but life had been rough lately, and he could really use the break. His roommate was-- well, no, that wasn't fair. He'd realized over the course of the semester that he was a gay man, and so the athletic roommate who had been assigned to him at the start of the year had changed from 'chill guy, nothing in common' to 'object of his wanking fantasies' over these past few months. It wasn't Tom's fault, but having to spend so much time in close proximity to the man was pure agony. His smile stabbed at his very heart, and Aiden was incapable of saying no to those eyes of his. The way he had a habit of walking around wearing nothing but a bathrobe didn't help, either.

He'd been able to hand wave away most of his awkward behaviors under the guise of a conservative upbringing (which was true, after all) but at a certain point, Tom was sure to start getting suspicious. The man wasn't outright hateful, but it was pretty clear from some of his idle chatter that Tom didn't feel comfortable around gay men. He'd complain about some bear who had hit on him at the bar, or about the flamboyant twink at the gym who kept pausing mid-workout to take selfies. Tom might not become outright hostile, but there was no way their relaxed cohabitation could ever remain the same. He looked outside his bedroom window, where the local news had promised he could see some of the Geminid meteor showers if there hadn't been clouds in the way. He waited until 11:11 to maximize his odds before making a wish.

"I wish my roommate could love and accept me for who I am," he whispered.

His reverie was interrupted by the sound of muffled screams coming from Tom's room. It wasn't uncommon given how thin the dorm room walls were, but they sounded less like angry League of Legends noises and more like panic? Aiden didn't have much time to further reflect-- Tom flung open his door, breathing heavily as he glanced around the room. "Hey, you!" he said, once he noticed Aiden sitting at his desk. "Are you normal? Or did it only happen to me?" Aiden raised an eyebrow in response. "Was it only me? Dude, I-- I'm not me. This isn't… I don't know who you think I am, but this isn't my body."

Aiden stood up, trying to decide if Tom had concussed himself, or he was just playing some sort of weird prank on him. "Tom, are you… doing okay?"

"No, dude!" he yelled. "I'm not doing okay because I'm not Tom! My name is Sanjay. I was just sitting in my room, and then suddenly I'm in a dark room, laying in a bed that's not mine. And I thought maybe… I dunno, maybe everyone switched? But if you're still you, maybe just me and this guy have… oh. Oh wow," he said, seeming to notice his new abs for the first time. Sanjay ran his hand across his new chest, feeling the bumps and curves of Tom's hard work. "I… there are definitely worse bodies to be stuck in," he said, giving his right arm a test flex. He pulled open the waistband of his boxer briefs before suddenly darting his eyes back at Aiden. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I kind of lost myself there for a moment. Here I am groping this guy's body right in front of you. Tom, you said? Is there, uhh… is there a bathroom nearby?" Aiden couldn't help but laugh at the sight-- the cheeks of Tom's body were flush with embarrassment, and the man was starting to tent in his pants. "There wasn't a mirror in his room, so I don't actually know what my new face looks like."

"Ah. Well, the only bathroom is the community one for the whole floor, so it's not going to be very private," Aiden said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, it would let you see your face, but like… if you're gonna check out your new, ahh… the rest of your body, the shower stalls don't… people would hear you," he mumbled.

Sanjay managed to become even more embarrassed. "Right. Yes, my new… the thought had crossed my mind," he said, absentmindedly adjusting the manhood that was now forming a noticeable bulge. "I am so sorry, this must be so crazy. Your roommate starts yelling about body swaps and now he's standing in front of you and groping himself. You probably still think Tom is pranking you. Fuck, dude." He paused, biting his lip. "Hey, weird question. Can I use your phone? For the camera, I mean. Now that I'm aware I don't know what my face looks like, I'm kinda freaking out a bit."

Aiden hesitated, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to the stranger who claimed that he wasn't Tom. "Holy shit," Sanjay said, rubbing his fingers along his jaw. "I'm fucking gorgeous. I… fuck, dude. Just look at this body! I hope you know you're the only reason I'm not buck naked and fingering this bussy like it owes me money. Sorry for all of the noises I'm gonna make back in that other bedroom." Aiden blinked in disbelief, but Sanjay didn't seem to notice. "Oh, here's your phone back, before I forget," he said, tossing it onto Aiden's bed.

"Umm, thanks," Aiden said, still not quite sure what to think of this interaction. It was exactly the sort of weird Theatre Kid prank he and his friends would have played on each other back in High School. But this was Tom, the guy who didn't have a creative bone in his (admittedly well-muscled) body. Had someone put him up to this? "Are you, uhhh… are you gonna be okay in there?"

He replied by cupping his pecs and giving them a firm squeeze. "Trust me, dude. I'm going to be more than okay. You know what's wild, though? Before all of this happened, I was thinking to myself-- man, I wish I had a cute boyfriend who could love me for who I am, and not just my inheritance or my family connections. Now I'm gonna have to make sure I can find someone who loves me for who I am, and not just this sick fuckin' bod."

"Wait, you made a wish too?" Aiden said. Sanjay cocked an eyebrow in his direction. "Before you started screaming, I had made a wish of my own. I make wishes all the time, but that's not… none of them are this strong!" he insisted, seeing the curious look on Sanjay's face. "I don't even remember what I wished for. The phrasing, I mean. I wanted Tom to stop being such a homophobic asshole, and… oh. Oh, right," he said, feeling himself start to blush. "I said that I wanted him to accept me. And… ummm. And to love me."

Sanjay let out a short peal of laughter. "I mean, the new Tom definitely accepts you. I'm gay as hell! Love, though, it's a bit too soon for that. You're pretty cute, though. Help me blend into my new life, and we can go on a few dates. What d'you think, dude? Like, I don't want to guarantee a relationship, but if the fuckin' cosmos swapped my body to be your boyfriend, I should at least give it a trial run, you know?"

Aiden could feel his brain starting to blue screen. Tom would never joke about something like this. But the alternative, the thought that Tom had swapped bodies with this random stranger-- one who was willing to date him, no less-- was simply unbelievable. "You… are you serious?" he said. "But what about the real Tom? Shouldn't we be trying to reverse this?"

"Fuck that!" Sanjay said, flexing his biceps. "Dude, I'm the real Tom now, because there's no way I am giving this up. Hell, for all we know, old Tom wished for a lot of money and that's why now he's in my body. And he can have it, sounds like he'll get along great with my parents if he was bad enough for you to be wishing to change him. I'm sure the cosmos wouldn't have swapped our bodies unless everyone came out ahead. Stars are for wishing, dude. There's no monkey's paw bullshit involved."

The man had a point, Aiden had to admit. None of the folklore around wishes ever involved consequences. Maybe sometimes you had to work towards a happily ever after, but the wish itself was always genuine. "I mean… okay, yes. But, I still feel a bit guilty without knowing what happened to the real Tom. Or, the old Tom, I guess. Is he going to be okay in your life? Stars are for wishing, but like… if you're gonna argue fiction tropes, body swaps are supposed to be reversed."

Sanjay grabbed the waistband of his boxer briefs and flung them to the ground. "If you reverse this body swap, you'll never get to suck this dick."

"Ben, you joining us for happy hour? It's draft beer Thursday!"

"Ah, not tonight," I said, flashing what I hoped was a warm smile at my coworkers. It was day four of a week-long project deployment, and if I had to spend another night in a hotel bar with men almost twice my age, I was going to hurt somebody. All they ever wanted to do was reminisce about high school or complain about their kids. I get it, I'm sure that will be me in another twenty years-- but if my job is going to shell out money to put me up in a hotel, I'm going to take advantage of it! A new city meant an entirely different pool of hookups, and I was itching to get my rocks off.

I pulled up my old Grindr profile and started updating my pics. Back home, I'd built a friend group of reliable fuck-buddies, and we'd just text each other directly if one of us was feeling horny. Here, I'd probably need to put in some effort to attract men worth sleeping with. It shouldn't be too bad, though. The fun part about a new dating pool is that I could create a different persona. The people who knew me would never think of me as anything more than Benny the himbo, but here, I could lean into my vacation photos. They gave me an air of suave sophistication that could only ever work with strangers.

"Or maybe I'm just talking out of my ass," I muttered to myself, after spending almost an hour with no luck. Cruising the hookup apps would always be its own unique form of hell. I'd gotten at least five variations of "I only top / you're not a hairless twink" and… honestly, at least the rejections had the decency to reply to me. There was something about messaging dozens of online accounts and getting only silence in return that felt like a personal slight against me. Was I not good enough? Was I that undesirable?

So then naturally, the first person to reach out to me was some bear in his 50s. I hadn't even set my age filter that high-- back home these men were dramatic queens with massive personality flaws that cemented why they were old and alone at their age. He didn't have any face pics, but at least the man's body was in pretty good shape for being as old as he was. "I see you're new around here. Most of the boys on this app don't know how to appreciate the beauty of real men. What say you and I have some fun tonight?" Well, it was a pretty good offer for 9:30 at night-- especially since the low distance meant he was probably staying at the same hotel. If none of the college-aged guys were going to give me the time of day, I may as well adjust my expectations. A few more messages, and I got a room number out of him. A quick spritz of cologne later, and I headed up to his room.

Room 503 was high up enough to be one of the King Suites. Not that it meant much for a corporate hotel chain, but it was still more prestige than I was willing to shell out cash for. The door was propped open, so I let myself inside. Walking into the room, I noticed three things in quick succession. The man was tied up and left laying on top of a lounge chair. The man was my direct supervisor, David. The floor under my feet was glowing, and David's capture soon became the least of my worries. As the bright, blood red light filled my vision, I found myself growing dizzy-- I didn't even feel myself hit the floor.

I woke up to the feeling of duct tape getting ripped off of my mouth. "Come now, Benny boy. I know it's your first transfer, but we can't have any fun until you wake up. The roleplay is only half the fun." Why did that voice sound familiar? My eyes didn't want to open yet, but I needed to figure out what sort of danger I was in. I tried to stand up, but my wrists were stuck behind my back. Rather, both of my wrists were tied behind my back. I tried to move my limbs, only my ankles were tied together as well. Whoever had captured me, they must have tied me up just like they had David. I started opening my eyes, blinking heavily as I tried to wake up from slumber. I was laying on a chair, wearing the same clothes I'd seen David wearing only a few moments earlier. Had I... somehow become David? I looked up at the person who had been talking to me. Staring back at me was my own body, completely naked.

"What the fuck!" I yelled, tugging against the rope that restrained me. "David? Why the hell would you steal my body?"

The man just laughed at me. "I know you think you're hot shit compared to all of those clueless college boys, but you're still nothing more than a green rookie. A few muscles, a solid paycheck… suddenly Benjamin thinks he's ready to play with the big men. You ain't shit, Benny. Clearly it's up to me as your boss to knock you down a few pegs, remind you of your place." David walked over and pulled my shirt up over my head. "Your safe word is 'failure'," he said, kneeling down to tease my nipples with his tongue. The man clearly knew what his old body liked-- I was rock hard in seconds, and it was hard to think rationally without any blood flowing to my brain.

I had never been so humiliated or so aroused. He slowly untied me as his hands explored every inch of my body, making sure to laugh at my pale skin and my heavy gut as he did so. I tried to stand up, but he shoved me back onto the bed. I stumbled forward, elbows on the mattress, and he wasted no time maneuvering behind me and stripping off my pants. "Not so confident now, are you, Ben?" David asked, as he spit onto my crack. His fingers started massaging my eager hole, and I was certain it was loose enough to take even my old manhood without issue. "All you have is your body. If someone takes that away from you, what is left? Enough money to last two weeks, and a year's worth of desk work experience. Pitiful." He rammed his cock balls deep into my ass, and I gasped in pain as I tried to get my pelvic muscles to relax and allow the intrusion. "Your head got too big for your own good, Benny boy. Maybe the next time you strut around like you're hot shit, you'll remember back to this moment. When you were nothing more than a middle-aged sack of shit, good for taking a load and little else."

His cock was pressed right up against my prostate, sending ripples of pleasure throughout my body. As much as I wanted to make him cum first, I couldn't hold out for much longer. My entire body spasmed as my load landed onto the carpet at my feet. David let out a guttural moan, and I could feel him empty his own load deep into my ass. "Atta boy, Ben," he said, giving my ass a few friendly pats. "Now go clean up."

By the time I was finished, David had almost finished getting dressed again. I looked damn good, if I do say so myself. And I'd never be able to see myself in the mirror again, I realized. "I can't believe you're stealing my body," I said, as the gravity of the situation started to set in.

I expected him to taunt me, maybe flex his new body or shove his armpit in my face. I did not expect him to start laughing at me. "Get over yourself," David said. "Are you kidding me? Keeping this body sounds like a damn nightmare. I just wanted you to clean out my hole for me." He snapped his fingers, and I could feel my vision fading to black.

When my vision returned, I was staring at David's body. A quick pat down confirmed I was back in my own flesh, although I couldn't decide if I was relieved or offended. "What do you mean, a damn nightmare?" I said. "I have a fucking great body!"

David just rolled his eyes at me. "Buddy. I've spent the last thirty plus years working my way up the corporate ladder. I make at least triple your salary. Do you really think I want to start all over again? Don't get me wrong, the sex was great. But I can think of a million other things I'd rather do than relive my twenties. Broke as hell, getting into stupid relationships, being horny all the time... nah, you can keep that body."

I had no idea how to react. "Well, fuck me, I guess. But then why the hell did you take my body in the first place?"

He just shrugged. "You were the one who wanted casual sex, with all of the risks that come with it. I figured you were the kind of guy who has a deep-seated humiliation kink. And I don't enjoy having sex with random strangers. Plus, I wasn't entirely lying about wanting to take you down a peg." David smiled as he absent-mindedly palmed his crotch. "This way, we both get what we wanted."

The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. I couldn't deny it had been some of the best sex I'd ever had, now that the fear of mortal peril had subsided. "So, wait. If you don't like having sex with strangers... does that mean you'd be open to being fuck buddies?"