Untitled

My mind's a bit rusty after months of not writing this many storyline that racked up quite some length. So, I dumped my entire draft of this story I have on my phone and then asked AI to optimize it

Joshua had been planning this for months. Not in some vague, pathetic daydream way — no, this was calculated, surgical, inevitable. Every night after his dead-end coding gig, he’d sit in his cramped studio apartment, laptop glowing on his scrawny lap, and scroll through Rob Harlan’s socials like a man possessed.

Rob was everything Joshua wasn’t. Six-foot-one of sculpted, vascular perfection. Dark, wavy hair that fell just right over those sharp, arrogant eyes. A jawline carved from marble, broad shoulders tapering into a waist so tight it looked photoshopped, and a chest that jutted out like twin slabs of marble — heavy pecs, deep striations, nipples that always seemed perked from the pump. Then the abs — eight thick, cobblestone ridges that flexed even when Rob was just breathing. And below that…....fuck, the way those white Calvin Klein briefs hugged the heavy, swinging bulge in every mirror selfie. Rob posted them daily: shirtless in the gym bathroom, towel slung low, that cocky half-smirk saying I know you want this.

Rob had the life too. Modeling gigs that paid stupid money, a luxury apartment downtown, and Jess — his fiancée — a stunning brunette who looked at him like he hung the moon. Joshua had seen the stories: them at rooftop parties, her hands all over those abs. Meanwhile, Joshua was invisible. Five-eight, narrow shoulders, soft belly, a dick that barely made a tent in his boxers. Girls never looked twice. Guys like Rob barely registered his existence unless they needed an assistance or forced to interact with their kind. But Joshua knew the truth deep in his bones: that body was wasted on the jacked douchenag. Rob was born with it, took it for granted, used it to cruise through life on autopilot. If Josh owned that physique, he could do so much better....and more. He’d studied the forums, the darknet drops, the countless dark corner of the internet until he landed on the goldmine. A freaking innovative breakthrough by some rogue Montenegrin scientist working as a double-agent for MI6 and SVR developing a nanite skinsuit system — irreversible, perfect, living flesh turned into a custom-fitted garment. One dose injected and the target’s body became yours. The original mind? Trapped in the lining forever, screaming aimlessly, while the one wearing the skin gained everything and infiltrated so deep, no technological scan could catch the difference. The scientist worn a German diplomat facade for the past 2 years with no side effects whatsoever and the chat turned into a transaction with the scientist asking for an update upon the success of the nanite.

You stare at Nick from across the room, rolling your eyes as he takes yet another selfie of his new and improved form. Sweat drips from his mop like hair and onto his smooth, shiny skin. Ever since he left Randy, and thank god he did, he’s found a much needed respite in the local gym. He even found a couple of new friends, which of course you’re thrilled about. Seeing him so down and in the dumps for four weeks had you worried about Nick, but ever since the day he walked in through the door with those two giant dudes he met doing CrossFit he had a pep in his step and such a confidence boost. Cooper and Tre had doubled his size and musculature in a matter of days, which to you seemed impossible; but you were too happy for his blooming that you dismissed it as a successful CrossFit regimen.

And yet, this version of Nick that Cooper and Tre had brought out in him was something that gave you a bit of pause. For one, the smell. Showers started to be skipped a couple of times per week, clothes started to be reused time and time again at the gym… Clothes, as well, were being replaced faster than you could keep up with. Nick’s funky, colorful wardrobe had all but been emptied and replaced with athletic wear, sweats, and stringer tanks. You started to recognize your friend less and less. Standing there shirtless, in nothing more than his stinking gym shorts and rank socks, you couldn’t help but worry about him.

That isn’t to say he isn’t your friend anymore- he still laughs and jokes with you, albeit his humor is dirtier and more crass, but it’s good natured. He still goes out with you to the bars and plays wing man, though he does find himself in the bathroom with various hunky men more often than you’d like. He still happily hangs out and games with you on the weekends, though you have to light a couple of candles in the living room to drown out his scent. His scent… that heavy, buttery musk of sweat and unwashed laundry, with a hint of… oddly, fresh latex.

“Yo! Bro, I’m tellin’ you, you gotta come chill with Coop and Tre. Look at this shit!” Nick flexes his tatted arm, the fresh ink from a day or two prior glistens brightly atop the firm bicep. The gentle squeak of his shiny skin not going unnoticed by you.

“Sure man,” you fib, “sounds good.” Your disinterest in hanging with the two brain dead jocks shone through the lies. Nick sees this, the squishing sound of his socks echo in the bedroom as he walks over to you.

“Well, good! Tre is on his way over! Thought we could crack some beers and watch the game.” The game? The gym is one thing, you can wrap your head around the almost therapeutic experience of turning off your brain and just doing simple movements. But football? You raise your eyebrow.

“Since when have you liked football? You hate football.” Nicks face cracks ever so slightly, the first time you know intrinsically you touched on something he didn’t anticipate you to catch. Before he’s able to stutter out some form of reasoning, the knock on the front door saves Nick from your questioning.

“Oh shit, that’s him!” Nick dumbly chuckles to himself and squeaks out of the now ripe bedroom, his stench lingering in the air. You sigh, closing your eyes to take one or two deep breaths. Another smelly dude bro- delightful. The sound of the door opening, and a jovial ‘whassup bruh’ breaks your centering ritual. You stand up and approach the door, only barely hearing the quiet whispering of the two before you enter into the living room- the sight of Tre’s 6’2” jacked body greeting you.

“Whassup, my dude?” Tre’s shirtless form takes you aback, his muscles glistening just like Nick’s. Tre has always been a nice guy, relaxed and always down to kick back and just hang; even if he takes his sneakers off and fogs out the room with his cheesy foot smell, he had been nothing but kind to you. You have no reason to dislike or distrust him, and yet, here you are. You smile with a feigned civility, waving at him. Nick struts over to the kitchen and pulls out three Pacificos for you- one very clearly already opened before he pops the caps off the other two as if you hadn’t noticed.

“Let’s get comfy, boys!” Nick chimes and walks over to hand you your beer as you watch with exasperation as Tre kicks off his Jordans, the scent immediately hitting you like a train. The three of you clink your bottles together, and take a swig. At least, you certainly do. In the periphery of your sight, you see the two of them watch you for a split second before sipping their drinks as well. Nick throws his arm around you, the slickness of his skin immediately reminding you of the feeling of lubed latex as he guides the three of you to the couch, plopping down on it like sacks of potatoes.

Tre flicks his thumb against the remote, the game immediately coming onto your television as if it were playing just before it was last turned off. You continue to sip your beer, your eyes darting between Tre on your right and Nick on your left, both screaming and cheering with every goal. More and more you find that you don’t know Nick anymore, or at least who Tre and Cooper turned him into. An hour passes before halftime finally comes to pass, your Pacifico all but empty at this point. Finally, Nick turns to you, smiling as he sees you couch locked and borderline drunk. It was one drink, how are you feeling so goddamned weird?

“You need another one, bro?” Nick pokes your arm, which you feel compress and collapse against his finger. In the right state of mind, this would have obviously concerned you, but nearly unable to speak, you can do little more than shake your head no. “Yo, Tre. I think it’s setting in.” Nick’s face is bright and elated as he and Tre high five eachother before hopping onto their feet.

“Shit, bruh that didn’t take long at all. Not gonna lie, Coop. I didn’t think you’d be able to pull it off. You good in there?” You furrow your brow in confusion at Tre’s words until Nick slips his fingers into his mouth, pulling firmly until his face starts to peel away like a mask- squeaking and slurping until the face of Cooper beneath is revealed.

“Yeah man, feels amazing like always. Nicks’s givin me all the info I need. Only slipped up once!” The two jocks bump knuckles, before Cooper slithers his way out of Nick’s rubbery body. His feet slap against the floor, as Nick’s face snaps back to normal. Your eyes are open in horror and shock, before Nick shakes his head and reopens his eyes, grinning from ear to ear.

“Fuck yah, bro! Worked like a charm!” Cooper helps Nick to his feet, and the trio of jocks stand before you, their arms crossed and standing wide. “Fuck, man you’re gonna love this shit. I can’t keep hiding this shit from you and not share it!” You watch frozen, unable to move, feeling your body go limp and light as Nick and Cooper walk over to the couch and plop down on either side of you. “Bro, after Randy, I was ready to jump off the balcony. Then these motherfuckers found me at the gym and promised they’d be able to help me. Now look!” Nick flexes his arm, before grabbing his smelly foot and pulling on it. The meaty leg stretches longer and longer, the squeaks of his skin growing into warps until it snaps right back to normal. “What do you guys think? A month? Maybe two?”

“Sounds good, bro. It’ll be good to have you with us, bruh. You’ll be feelin better in no time.” With Tre’s words echoing in your head, you feel Cooper push you head back, letting it rest on the back of the couch before his and Nick’s fingers slip into the corners of your mouth. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull as they stretch it wider and wider, joking about how stretchy you are already. Tre walks around to the back of the couch and looks down at you, his left hand slipping into your wet, tight throat. “Let’s goooo!”

Tre shouts, removing his hand from your throat before gripping either end of the couch, swinging those huge smelly feet above your open maw. It happens quick and easy. The stench of his socks only lingers for one second before they slide across your tongue, the grimy texture making them slide down your throat quickly. His massive body slides inside of you with ease- the outline of his thick legs sliding beneath the skin of your chest and torso. The wet squelches and rubbery squeaks increase in frequency and intensity, as his ripe bulge and thick ass slips into you, your neck bulging wide as you feel his feet squeeze into yours. The skin stretches taut over his size 14’s, and your legs burst with his muscles within.

“Ay, a lil help, bro?” Tre stands up onto your feet, your wide mouth sits suctioned around his lean waist- the salty flavor of his sweat soaked balls sitting on your tongue filling your mouth with his flavor. Coop and Nick jump up as Tre raises his arms up, taking ahold of your ears in their fingers. Slowly, they tug up on your head, encasing his cobbled abs and meaty pecs within your body. You taste the ripe sweat in his wiry pits before his arms slide downward into your mouth, squeezing them deep within you until his fingers are just able enter your shoulders.

“Aight, bro! Pull!” Nick shouts loudly, and in seconds they pull your your head upward even further. You feel Tre’s arms squeeze into your own, and with a single roll of his shoulders, his hands slip into yours like gloves. You see Nick smile with genuine excitement as he pulls your your head over the back of Tre’s, tugging more and more until it snaps over his with a loud crack. You anticipated losing control, fading into black, lost in the ether… you couldn’t be more wrong.

“Ahh shit, lemme just…” Tre’s deep voice bellows out of your mouth, but deep in your mind you hear it as well. “Excuse the reach, bro. One sec.” He plunges your hands into your shorts, and you can feel his monstrous rod slipping and sliding around in your torso. He pulls on your skin, watching it stretch until his tip lines up with the base of your shaft. You’d moan if you could, feeling Tre’s slippery cock filling your own like rolling on a condom. He grunts as it distends your dick to match his 11 inches, his thick balls dropping into your sac with a wet schlorp. Tre stretches in your body, making sure everything is where it needs to be while Nick and Coop grab more beers.

“How… why…. How are you doing this?” Your voice echoes loudly around you. It doesn’t go unanswered, as your body plops right back down onto the couch, swollen with Tre’s musculature. He kicks your feet up onto the coffee table, his ripe foot funk now wafting from your soles.

“Heh, it’s a trip, right?” His voice booms in your head. “Just a lil thing my friend from New Orleans taught me once. Feels good, too.” Nick and Coop drop down onto the couch with a beer for ‘you.’ He takes it with your hand, unfamiliarly large and vascular. “Just sit back and relax, bruh. Let Tre show you how it’s done.” Your three bros clink their beers together, as you’re left to watch out of your eyes as they talk about how dope you’re gonna be.

———

Two months came and went, Tre took a bit longer inside you than had been planned- you two really bonded with him in the drivers seat. The way he swaggered down the street in your body, the way your rubbery skin glistened with his sweat, the musk that flowed from your feet, pits, and balls… you’ve grown to love it. You two talked almost every minute of every day within your mind, the feeling of having a bro with you at all times felt good and safe.

Feeling the thrill of lifting over 200 lbs with relative ease, the euphoria of him plunging your cock into dozens of men’s mouths and holes, the fraternal feeling of jacking Nick off in the sauna after a long lifting session, feeling like a sexy king with men and women drooling at your feet over your natural scent… you almost didn’t want Tre to exit you. When he did, it was bittersweet. Coop and Nick helped pry him out of your now jacked, musky fuckboy body, and it almost felt like on you were holding onto him inside of you. The moment he was out, though, your life really began.

You’re closer than ever with Nick, spending hours at the gym and at the clubs with him, fuckin boys and pumping iron. Every day is filled with crazy antics with the boys, Tre and Cooper are over almost every night kicking back with you, the bond unbreaking and unyielding. Just for yucks, you will squeeze into eachother, pranking eachother or just finding it a damn good way to feel close to your bro. In fact, the other day you fucked the shit out of this lil twink inside of Nick. The minute he walks through that door, you got a date tonight with him. You can’t wait to slip him on and use that dick of his, and he can’t wait either.

Ding dong! I opened the door to a group of grinning kids holding their buckets out. “Trick or treat?!” I yelled. “Treat!” the kids responded with a smile. They were cute, and I looked at someone cuter; the man behind them. We exchanged a quick smile as I cheerily dropped candy into the kids’ baskets. However, I couldn’t get my eyes off of the father. I’m an old man now, but I’ve had a crush on this young father for months since he moved here, and I’ve been getting closer to him in the past two weeks. I befriended him, and found out his name is Richard. We’re on good terms, and he let me call him Rich. I figured what I was about to do would be impossible with his schedule, but with Halloween today, I had a plan. With the kids all satisfied, I offered another candy to the father. He looked a little confused, but warmed by my offer. “Thank you so much, but I’m really alright. How ‘bout another piece for one of the kids?” he said with a smile. “Ah, I’m so sorry, it’s got alcohol in it. But really, no need to be shy, I insist! The candy is homemade.” I sensed that Rich didn’t want to come of as rude, so with a sigh and a deep chuckle, he took the candy and ate it. Almost immediately, he made an expression of pain. “I’m so sorry…can I use the bathroom…?” he asked. Feigning concern, I nodded and reassured the kids, telling them to stay right where they were. When I entered the bathroom, Rich was puking in the toilet. I closed the door and locked it, hoping the kids wouldn’t hear too much about what was about to happen to their father. He looked up at me and asked. “What did you put in that…?” I couldn’t resist enjoying this moment. “A trick for you. A slow-moving chemical that’s going through your body and destroying everything but this skin of yours. This skin that I’m going to wear…a treat for me.” With that said, I grabbed Rich and pulled him over to the bathtub by grabbing the skin on the back of his neck. He yelped as he felt the his body emptying out and tried to fight back, but was too weak. I stepped on his back with his head over the bathtub and watched as a curious, black liquid spilled out as he tried to cry out against the torrent of sludge flowing through his mouth. He moved less and less and his empty skin slid alongside the bathtub, his fingers curling on the ground and his feet folding. I pulled off his baseball cap and grabbed him by the hair, looking at his empty face. The mouth and eye sockets sagged downwards as the skin hung loosely to the lump of hair I was holding. I knew I had to get moving; the kids were still waiting. I straightened him out and started to push my feet through his mouth. I stretched his throat widely and slipped each toe into his with care. I grabbed his lips at my ankles and yanked the skin upwards as his hairy legs slid across mine and covered me. I pulled at Rich’s lips and slipped my dick into his. I felt the interior of his dick skin slide across mine and cummed inside the sleeve that was his skin like a sheath, and watched as it slowly seeped out of Rich’s pisshole. I kept pulling it upwards, pinching his nipples and tugging them over mine before slipping my arms into the suit, reminiscent of Rich. With his empty face at my neck, I hooked his bearded chin under mine as his mouth stretched over my scalp and I wore his face like a hoodie. I pushed Rich’s emotionless face over my own until each hole aligned with the correct facial feature and slipped the cap he was wearing on. Satisfied, I took a picture in the mirror.

I put Rich’s phone down, or rather my phone now, and rubbed the skin I had stolen, pinching it at certain parts where it felt like there was a snag until I was satisfied with the bodysuit. From those weeks of hanging out with Rich, I had learned to perfect his voice and figured out his schedule. Not even my wife would stand a chance. I mimicked Rich’s earlier chuckle as I put all of my clothes back on. I looked at what used to be Rich in the bathtub, and figured out I had to clean it up later; my kids were waiting! When I left out the door, my son asked me, “Daddy, where did the old man go? Are you ok?”

Part 1 found here

I can’t believe it, I’m uncle Rob! I was still getting used to being a solid 50 pounds heavier, probably even more to be honest. When I dressed up as Rob, I had chosen one of his older football jerseys to feel his stomach pressed against his beefy belly. Each step I took I could feel the fabric stretch to accommodate my new form. I patted it, feeling the jiggle ripple through the rest of my abdomen. This was going to be a fun day.

Normally it would have taken me about 15 minutes to get from Rob’s house back to mine, but with my new longer legs, and the amount of excitement built in, I made it in half the time. Stepping up to the front door, my heart was racing in anticipation. I haven’t spent real quality time with my dad in what felt likes years. To go from being the scrawny son he essentially ignored, to becoming his best friend and brother, was a dramatic shift. However, I let out a long breath of air and pounded on the door with my strong fist. 

Dad, I guess I should refer to him by his first name now, Mike, opened the door and looked at me inquisitively. He wasn’t even wearing his usual jersey, just a green t shirt and jeans, his hair messy, with the locks shining in the golden sunlight. 

“Rob? What are you doing knocking on the door? You haven’t done anything but stroll in like a bastard for years”. Shit, of course I should have just walked in. Rob’s been coming over to our place for years now to hang out with my dad. I chuckled to try and cover.

“What and not take you up on opening the door for me? Fat chance,” I told him with my best uncle Rob impersonation. He rolled his eyes and ushered me in. I think I can still play this off. Coming into my home as Rob made it feel like a brand new experience, like I was stepping foot for the first time. Though that may just be because I’m about a foot taller and my perception has greatly shifted at this new height. 

“You want a beer?” Mike asked, closing the door behind me. 

“It can’t even be 8 am,” I told him without a second thought. His eyebrow raised again. 

“What took you so long to ask?” I asked him back. He scoffed and wandered off to the kitchen. My heart would not slow down. I can make a couple of recoveries, but what am I supposed to do when he actually starts talking about football? Mike came back, and tossed me an unopened can. I popped the tab and took a swing, almost spitting it right back out. Fuck me, that’s what beer tastes like? At the tender age of 20, I was just shy of getting myself any alcohol of my own. Though also, at the tender heart, I was too chicken to sneak one of my dad’s to try before today. 

Thankfully Mike had his back turned to me, otherwise he surely would have seen me grimace from the taste. 

“So, game’s not for another hour,” he said, coming back from the kitchen again, this time holding the entire box full of beers. Oh god do I have to drink all of those? I can’t even stomach one. 

“How about you make your lazy ass of some use and help me stock the fridge? Especially since you didn’t bring any of your own,” he continued. Was I supposed to bring something? I’m clearly an awful guest. I followed him downstairs to his man cave, one which I rarely stepped foot in. 

It was what one would expect of a middle aged man who was obsessed with football. A once plush couch now worn out from years of ass being met with it, a small beer fridge along the side, massive flat screen tv along the back wall. If you pick up a copy of “Man Caves for Dummies”, you’d find this on chapter one. Mike shoved the box of beers at me and I waddled off to the fridge to stock up. Not like there was much space anyways, he always kept it pretty filled. 

As I was finishing up the bottom level of the fridge, I felt a hard smack against my ass, almost causing me to shove my whole head into the fridge. 

“Hurry up slowpoke, I wanna get these chilled before the game starts,” Mike said, pulling another beer out of the top shelf. He already finished the first one? I was too distracted to even drink mine, now so aroused at my ass getting smacked, and being ordered around by my dad. Don’t get me wrong, I was used to him ordering me around before, but this time it was playful. It didn’t help that my new cock was pressed against the silky material of my jockstrap, hidden under Rob’s set of Wranglers. I was chubbed up since I came in his body earlier today, but the touch of Mike, and the material sliding against it, made me rock hard. 

I adjusted my pants to help try and mitigate how much of my cock showed and closed the fridge door behind me. 

“Just giving you time to remember how I got the good ass genes from dad,” I told him. I turned and shook my ass at him, smacking it myself. Fuck Rob’s butt really kept up some perk since his old military days. 

“Please, the only thing you got from dad was a bad back and a receding hairline,” he said, chuckling to himself. He took a swig out of his beer and I decided to mirror him. This time, I knew what to expect and choked down the ale with less effort. This actually wasn’t too bad after a while. He reclined back on the couch and kicked his feet up on the corner L of the sofa. He was wearing his basketball shorts and his calves were showing. I never looked at my father in a suggestive way from the implication alone, but I wasn’t me right now. Even as his brother it felt like I was somebody entirely different. 

I could admire how strong his legs looked, especially when he stretched one of them out to pop his knee. The shorts rode up and a brief glimpse of his thigh bared itself to me. This didn’t help my need to hide my raging boner at all. He turned his attention from the TV and looked at me. 

“What are you waiting for? Permission?” He asked. I sat on the opposite end of the couch from him. We had an hour until the game, and I immensely regretted not doing more research before I took over Rob. Mike tried to engage with me about the team, sports, players, and I did my best to rebut against them with jokes and more general comments. He definitely knew something was up though. I drank through the whole thing, feeling my new belly slosh as it contained nothing but beer. The jersey I was wearing started to feel even tighter as I felt my stomach expand to accommodate. 

“Jeez Rob are you okay?” He asked me, minutes before the game began. My consciousness was starting to fade some, the alcohol finally starting to kick in. I had to have been 6 beers in by this point, only taking so long due to Rob’s large build. 

“What do you mean?” I asked him, blinking slowly to orient myself. He finished his last bit of his drink and threw it into the closest trash can. 

“You aren’t yourself. No idea what I’m talking about, stumbling through any conversation, it’s like I’m talking to…” he shrugged, “well, Timmy”. That made me snap into focus. The original plan when I took over Rob was to talk to my dad about anything but football, and hopefully, make him actually like the real me. 

“What about Tim?” I asked him. He cracked open a new beer. 

“Well you know, he’s a good kid, but I just don’t get him. Always up in his room all day, toying around with those little figures of his.” My figures I paint as a hobby. Something about bringing those little guys to life brought me a lot of calm. I didn’t even think my dad knew they existed.

“Have you tried connecting with him about what he likes?” I asked him. I knew the answer, but wanted to hear him admit it. 

“Yeah,” he said. Liar. “I mean, kind of. I just don’t get it. You known when we were growing up we were outside, running around the woods, getting dirty. Tim he just, I don’t know, is just a shut in. We didn’t grow up like that, he actually did things. Like when we kidnapped the Connors’ dog and posted a ransom to buy snacks in the summer. I mean you know, we did a LOT together. Tried new things, grew closer. He doesn’t do anything, just toys away and plays on that damn computer”. 

Ouch. Can’t say I’m surprised though, it’s about what I expected him to feel. 

“But I wanna connect with him, you know. I want to be his dad, not just his father. I taught him to ride a bike, hit a baseball, how football works. Then he became a teenager and just dropped all of it and became a different kid.” I was about to open another beer, but wanted to be as much of myself as possible. 

“You know Mike, I think he may have always been like this,” I told him. He raised an eyebrow in response. “I think, he just wanted to be the person you wanted him to be so you’d love him. But, he found out that he wasn’t happy doing those things, so he just decided to be himself, and hope you’d love him anyway.” 

Mike was silent for a long time, not even taking another drink. 

“That is, at least my theory,” I said. He shrugged and pondered. 

“I mean I do love him, no matter what he does,” he finally said. “He’s my son. He can be a pro athlete or build and sell a computer for a living. I just figured since we had so much fun together and have great memories, that’s how he should do it too. But, maybe I should try and see how we can do what he likes more.”

I could feel the tears well in my eyes. Fuck Dad, why couldn’t you just tell me that. 

“Thanks Rob for just letting me- are you crying?” He asked. I wiped the tears away and hid my face from him.

“No no, just, fuck it,” I said, looking for a new beer. 

“You fucking softie,” he said, a hearty laugh escaping him. “Here, for you listening to my bitching.” He leaned over the armrest of the sofa for a little while and finally pulled out a new can. He tossed it to me. Raising his own, he opened the tab. I did the same, only to be met with a flare of foam dousing me. He cackled and slapped his knee. 

“Fucker!” I yelled at him, already becoming inhibited from all the drinks. “Gotta change this fucking shirt now,” I told him. I could feel the words slurring as the alcohol came on harder. I stood up, stepping back to try and regain my balance. I grabbed the bottom of my jersey with both hands and yanked it up, my head stuck in the hole before finally tugging it off and slamming it to he ground. 

I looked down, once again admiring Rob’s hairy chest and beautiful pecs. The years of service he did performed wonders on his body, which he didn’t give up on as he reached middle age. 

“Give me a shirt,” I told him, trying to make it to the staircase. 

“Rob fucking sit down, you’re fine,” he called out to me. “Let that shit dry and just be half naked for a bit you puss.” I walked back and fell back on the sofa. My cheeks were flaring up and I could feel my heart pounding from the exertion. I put my hand on my chest to feel the heart rate, and couldn’t help but squeeze a little, feeling the pec succumb to my own touch. I chuckled and looked over to my father, who was looking at me intently. I chuckled to him.

“What?” I asked, losing sight in trying to pretend to be Rob at this point. He smirked. 

“Nothing, just, all this talk about our childhoods is making me just remember the good old times. You know know, the Connors dog, the woods, the…. late night talks. Ones about girls, and who was hot in my grade, who was hot in yours. How we’d-“ he pulled his own shirt off and threw it on top of mine. “Try to figure out what would make them feel good”. 

I admired Mike’s body, not as toned as mine, but certainly he took care of himself as he aged. He own chest displayed a gorgeous set of fur. How did I miss out on just how beautiful he was? How did I not get these genes and looked more like my mother? How is he looking at me so… sexually? He slid down the L of the sofa, laying his head against the back cushion, throwing an arm behind his head to rest it. His armpit was shadowed in a dark bush, which I can only imagine smelled of a strong musk. 

Wait what the fuck? This is my dad, or my brother? He’s family, but I did jerk off my own uncle just hours before. He’s my dad, but he’s also not making this weird. He’s.. he’s.. fuck he’s sexy! 

“Game’s about to start,” I told him finally, not taking my eyes off his physique. 

“They’re playing the Buccaneers, I know how it’ll go,” he said. He got on all fours and crawled to me. Judging from the look in his eyes, the beers had taken their toll on him as well. We were now face to face, mere inches from one another. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he leaned in and planted his lips on mine. I pushed back a bit, but he wouldn’t let me break away. His tongue slithered forward and traced it along my new one. I gave in and wrestled his with my own, my lips moving in sync with his. He placed a hand on my chest and squeezed at my pec, the warm touch juxtaposing with the shivers which shot through me. 

I took my hand and placed it on the back of his head, brushing my fingers through his salt and pepper hair. As I gripped at it, he became more aggressive and reached for my throat. He wasn’t rough with it, but placed his thumb just below my Adams apple, pressing firmly. My breath was ragged from his force, and my pants had grown so incredibly tight in futile attempts to restrain my cock. My other hand went on the lower end of his back, guiding him to press into me, the fur on our chests entangling. 

He slipped his mouth away from my lips, running them down my neck, kissing me as he lowered himself further down this stolen body. When he got to my belly, he took extra time to take both hands and rub them across it. He worshipped my stomach, kissing at it, gripping, and without a single word, making me know it was his. His hands ran down my stomach to zipper off my hands, toying with it. I spoke back to him with my dick, flexing it to tell him it needed to be released. 

He looked up at me and smirked, lowering his head down again to lick at my bulge. It was torture, I needed to produce it to him and have it slide down his throat. I reached my hand down to get to my pants, but he immediately snapped and grasped my wrists. 

“Uh uh,” he hushed. “Remember, I’m making you the girl here. And a good girl, lets the man do what he wants.” He released my wrists and finally got his hands back on my zipper. He zipped it down, before finally finishing with a flourish and pulling the Wranglers down to my ankles. He worked to get them kicked off my feet, before being met a silky pink jockstrap, which could snap at a moments notice. It was absolutely soaked in precum, and my dick had pushed it to its limits. 

“What the fuck Rob? You sporting these now?” He asked me. I smirked at him. 

“Was just remembering the good times,” I told him with a wink. He seemed to hesitate, almost snapping back to reality. However, the lust must have taken over, as he proceeded to take his tongue and lick up the precum which topped off the jock. Just feeling the tip of his tongue hit my cock made me groan involuntarily. 

“Shut up, Tim might be home,” he told me. I wouldn’t worry about that, I wanted to tell him, but no words could form at this point. He proceeded to lap at my bulge, seeming to suck off any of the pre which had accumulated. Just as it seemed he was about to pull my jock off, he backed away. Fuck, was something wrong? I looked up and saw him working on getting his own pants off. He was struggling, barely able to move at all. 

I assisted him, leaning forward and not taking the same slow care he had given me. I yanked the pants off and discovered two thing about my dad. One, he liked to go commando. Two, he had an impressive cock. Veiny, hard as a rock, and long enough that I knew he could rub out a prostate without even going halfway in. If he was the surprisingly soft and sultry type, I was the ravenous one. I had never actually sucked a dick before, but had watched plenty of films to emulate what others had done. I gripped the base of his shaft, which despite how large my new hands were, still was an intimidating beast. 

I licked at the head of his cock, tasing the musky aroma come to life as the sensation of manhood trickled down my throat. He tasted amazing, his own precum starting to mix with the sweat he had built through the day. I licked my lips, lubing them up as I began to take his entire cock into my mouth. The years of study had prepared me somewhat for what it took to take him, but practice made perfect. At first I almost gagged and vomited the half dozen beers which still waved in my stomach, but as I got into a rhythm, it became easier. He leaned his head back and didn’t say a word, but moans were suppressed from his closed mouth. 

He raised both arms up, showing off his pits. The smell permeated through the air, filling my nostrils. He must have not showered in the past couple of days, as I could smell the usual scent of my father embody the room. It motivated me to work harder, pushing my lips to the base of his balls and holding them in place. He grabbed the sides of my head and thrust his cock back and forth, skull fucking me as a growls began to erupt from him. 

I thought he was about to coat my throat with his cum, but just as he was about to finish, he threw my head back and pushed me to the other side of the sofa. I looked up to find him jerking himself off and staring at me seductively. 

“Turn around and show your big brother that hole of yours,” he commanded, sitting up on his knees. I did as he was told, getting on all fours and facing away from him. I felt the couch move below him as he crawled to me. He spit, and the sensation of his saliva against my hole made me shake. With one hand, he spread my ass cheek to the side, and with the other, I felt him guide the tip of his cock. Pressing against my hole, I gripped at the fabric in the couch, my knuckles turning white. 

“Easy,” he told me. “Remember, just like we used to practice.” He pushed the tip and my hole reluctantly allowed him in. It was a shock of pain which made me scream. His hand quickly shot to my mouth and covered it, muffling my howls.

“I told you to shut up,” He said. He kept pushing his cock further in, still holding my mouth closed. He inch which slid its way in made me try to yell louder in and louder, but his calloused hand pressed harder against my lips. There was a sensation, a pop. Immediately I stopped yelling and groaned again, this time in ecstasy. 

“There you go lil bro,” he told me. “Just like riding a bike”. He pulled out some and pushed his way back in. Fuuuuuuck. Fuck he was so god damn big! He pumped, his cock rubbing against my prostate. Each thrust sent electricity coursing through my body and out the tip of my cock. I hadn’t touched it in ages and wanted to pump in unison with him, but too much of me was just holding on to the couch for dear life. His thrust began to increase in speed, with no room in between for rest. 

“Fuck daddy’s gonna cum!” He yelled out, clearly not worried about the noise anymore. He put a hand on each of my shoulder to steady himself. 

“Cum in me dad, cum in me!” I yelled out, my lips free from his grasp. 

“FUCK!” He yelled out, pushing his balls deep against my bare ass. I felt his cock twitch with his pulse as wave after wave of his cum shot deep into my colon. I counted it out, each pulse getting weaker and weaker, before finally all I could feel was my dad’s stomach resting on my back as he caught his breath. He slid out and fell back on the couch, his legs spread, and while now limp, he cock rested beautifully on his thigh. 

I laid on my own back and marveled at him, so gorgeous even just lit by the TV glow. For a second I was worried in his post nut clarity, he would realize what had happened. Instead, I could hear him snoring, somehow already passed out from the exertion. I took the opportunity to finally whip off the jock strap and pump my cock, which had been lathered up in a concoction of my precum and dad’s saliva. 

I felt his cum begin to leak out of my hole, running into the couch. I grabbed a small handful and rubbed it between my fingers. It was thick and a stark white, prime for breeding. Prime for lathering up my cock further and… lathering… That, gave me an idea. Releasing my cock, I stepped to my pants he had discarded on the floor. I fumbled with the pockets until I found it, another vial. 

Inside was the lotion I had made to slip myself into Rob. I was worried it would wear off while I was here, making me be ejected. So, I brought an extra container in case I had to sip back inside. But, what if I went a step further? Both of us were already naked, so I took the opportunity to pour the contents all over Rob’s body, just as I had done in my real body. 

It was a miracle there was enough, as Rob was twice the size as my original body. However, I finally stood in front of my father, silk, lathered up, and ready to experiment. I was just as careful as I was when I took over Rob’s body. Fingering my dad’s hole and enlarging it. Making it able to take one finger, then two, three, until finally my whole hand was inside of him. I think all of the drinking had sedated him, as he wasn’t moving a muscle from all of the activity. 

I pushed further, finding the process to be much more difficult than last time. Previously, I was going from a short, lanky form, barely 150 pounds into a man twice my size. This time, while my father was hardly a small man, had less room available to take in Rob’s body. I worked carefully, pushing both arms inside, before taking a deep breath and plunging my head inside. This sensation was the same at least. Pitch darkness, a tight sensation, the beating of his heart echoing around me. The issue was, Rob’s chest was so fucking massive, I had to really push to get inside. 

I could still feel my feet outside, so I used them to prop myself up and force myself in further. I could only imagine what it looked like out there. The towering form of Rob, chest deep inside of my dad’s hole as he tried to slam his entire body into him. However, with each thrust, I could feel my body being encapsulated by my father. Eventually I found my whole upper body inside, and I worked to stretch myself out. It was like I was trying to slide into a latex suit that was two sizes too small. Every crevice of mine was suppressed and pushed inward. 

It was constricting, my father’s form could barely contain the man who had at least 40 pounds of muscle on him. But surely, I found a way to get both legs inside and curl my feet in too. I felt the hole close and Rob’s body completely be closed in. Having done this once already, I had an idea of what to do next, but the size difference made it all too difficult. I did learn however from last time to adjust my cock first and not cause a panic. With both arms still not in position with my dad’s, I took my cock and slide it into his like a sheath. 

Before I aligned them though, I experimented and pulled back and pushed in again. I did this a few times, feeling like I was fucking the inside of my father. It was too good, but I had to push on, the constriction was getting to me. I aligned both feet and legs, arms, hands, and finally head. I slithered my tongue into my father, and pushed the top of my head into his. With one final force, I pushed my cock into the tip of his and felt the transformation complete.

I opened my eyes and surveyed the room, my head groggy as I felt the alcohol trying to hold me still. The glow of the TV still reflected off the walls, but more noticeable than that was the smell of my father’s musk right next to me. I looked to my left and found his armpit right next to my face. I inhaled deeply, now aware that I was my dad! I liked at his bicep, knowing all the while this tongue just moments ago was worshipping me. I sat up, trying to orientate myself. 

Everything was the exact same, though now I could see just under me was a pool of the lotion and cum which soaked into the seats. I rubbed my dad’s hole, and found that some of his cum was still leaking out from me. I brought it to my face and lapped it up. It was salty, tinged with the potency worthy of breeding. 

I took another scoopful of his, I guess, MY own cum and lathered up my new dick. As I never did actually finish while I was just Rob, I still had a sizable load to get out. I pumped my dad’s cock which had sprung to life once more. I smelled at this pits as I did so, lapping at his biceps and worshipping my new body. 

NSFW version found here

From the excitement of today, it didn’t take long before I could feel the eruption coming. 

“Fuck I”m gonna cum!!” I yelled in my dad’s voice, before finally letting out the build up of cum spray all over me. Despite getting off just earlier today, it was a cascade as I coated chest. The fur absorbing every drop and sinking into my chest. My cock was bright red, pulsing as each drip soared into the air. But it was over all too soon, and I was left with just myself, the smell of cum, musk, and the football announcers quietly speaking. 

I looked down at myself, proud of the mess I had made. Though, I did wonder what this meant. Was I stuck as my father, with Rob gone forever? Would I get ejected as Rob? As myself? The lotion had lasted this long already, I wonder how much longer I had. If it wasn’t long, I wanted to make the most of it. Slowly, I raised myself up and stood, looking to dress myself up. There I found the jockstrap I had Rob wear, still damp. I stepped in and shimmied it up my legs. 

It was cool at this point, and made me shiver, but it was so good to be reunited with it. I rubbed my hands over my body, coaxing the cum further into my hair and admired the nice bulge my dad gave the jockstrap. Maybe if I can keep this up for a bit, I’ll have to have dad pick up some new clothes…Something with leather perhaps. 

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

A bit of a longer story, but hopefully that makes you all enjoy it even further! Would love to hear from all of you as to what you'd like to see more of as I try to get back more into my writing.

The house next door had been a siren’s song, its parade of breathtaking men—each one a masterpiece of rugged charm or polished allure—stoking a fire in your chest that refused to be ignored. The bearded lumberjack with a stride that shook the earth, the businessman whose tailored suits clung to every sharp angle, the surfer with a grin that promised wild nights—they haunted your thoughts, their fleeting appearances from that house a mystery you could no longer resist. Curiosity had become obsession, and tonight, under a starless sky, you gave in.

You slipped through the shadows, your pulse a steady drum as you crossed the dew-slick grass to the neighbor’s back door. It was unlocked, an invitation to unravel the enigma. Inside, the house was disarmingly ordinary: a tidy kitchen, a threadbare couch, the faint scent of cedar and musk hanging in the air. But at the end of the hallway, a cherry-red wooden door gleamed like a forbidden promise, its glossy surface pulling you closer. The air grew warm, heavy, as if the house itself held its breath. You turned the brass knob, and the door opened with a soft, seductive creak.

The room beyond was a sanctuary of transformation. Shelves lined the walls, each one cradling silicone masks that stared back with eerie vitality—the lumberjack’s weathered intensity, the businessman’s sleek confidence, the surfer’s boyish mischief. Beside them hung muscle suits, their sculpted forms glowing under the chandelier’s amber light, every chiseled pec and rippling ab a testament to power. The air was thick with the scent of silicone and something richer, headier, like amber and primal desire. Your breath caught as the truth sank in: these were the men you’d seen, not flesh but artifice, crafted with a precision that made your skin prickle.

Your eyes fell on a mask—a college jock, his face all sharp cheekbones and cocky swagger, a smirk that dared the world to kneel. The silicone was cool, almost alive under your fingers, its texture so real it sent a shiver down your spine. Next to it hung a light-skinned muscle suit, its broad shoulders and carved abs radiating dominance. You couldn’t resist. You didn’t want to.

The room pulsed with a charged energy as you shed your clothes, the air kissing your skin like a lover’s whisper. You stepped into the muscle suit, the silicone cool and slick as it slid over your legs, hugging your thighs, your hips, your torso. It molded to you like a second skin, the sculpted pecs amplifying your chest, the ridged abs tightening against your core. The suit’s weight was intoxicating, every movement heavy with strength—your shoulders broader, your arms thicker, your entire body a monument to power. And then you felt it: the silicone sheath at the crotch, crafted with meticulous detail, encasing you in a way that made your breath hitch. It hugged you tightly, accentuating every contour, making you feel colossal, godlike, your new form enormous and commanding.

You ran a hand over the sheath, your fingers tracing the exaggerated size, the lifelike texture sending a jolt of raw power through you. It was more than a disguise—it was a crown, a scepter, a symbol of your newfound dominance. You gripped it, marveling at the sheer size, the weight, the way it felt like an extension of your will. Your other hand roamed the suit, worshipping the hard planes of your pecs, the deep grooves of your abs, each touch igniting a fire in your veins. You were no longer just you—you were a titan, a deity sculpted from silicone and desire, every inch of you radiating unyielding confidence.

You lifted the jock’s mask, its smirk mirroring the power coursing through you. The silicone was soft, pliant, almost eager as you pressed it to your face. It sealed against your skin, warm and intimate, the sensation like a lover’s breath. You aligned the eyes, the nose, the mouth, and as it settled, the world sharpened. You blinked through the jock’s eyes, and the mirror across the room revealed a god. His green eyes burned with arrogance, his tousled brown hair fell perfectly, his jawline a blade forged to cut through hesitation. You were him, and he was you.

You stepped closer to the mirror, your movements fluid, commanding. The suit hugged every curve, every muscle, the sheath making you feel like a colossus, untouchable and immense. You flexed, watching the pecs rise, the biceps swell, the abs tighten. Your hand returned to the sheath, gripping it with reverence, worshipping its size, its power. The silicone was warm now, alive with your heat, each touch sending a surge of pleasure through you. You ran your fingers along its length, slow and deliberate, savoring the way it made you feel—invincible, desired, larger than life. Your other hand traced the suit’s contours, from the broad expanse of your chest to the chiseled lines of your thighs, each touch a hymn to your new form.

The room thrummed with energy, the air thick with the scent of power and possibility. You tilted your head, the jock’s smirk widening as you admired your reflection, the light catching the sharp angles of your face, the gleam of your sweat-slicked skin. You let out a low, rumbling laugh, the sound deep and commanding, a voice that could bend wills. The other masks—the brooding artist, the stoic firefighter—beckoned from their shelves, each one a new facet of dominance waiting to be claimed. The thought of slipping into another, of feeling this rush again, made your blood roar.

But then, a creak. The cherry-red door shifted, and soft, deliberate footsteps echoed in the hallway. Your heart thundered, but the jock’s smirk held firm, your grip on the sheath tightening as if to anchor your power. You stood taller, the suit and sheath making you feel like a king, ready to face whoever—or whatever—dared to interrupt your worship. Would you slip away, or would you let this godlike power carry you into the unknown?

---

The moment the possession locked in, it hit me like the hardest orgasm I’d ever chased—my old consciousness slamming into Rubberscotty’s body with a wet, electric surge that made his cock twitch violently inside the tight leather race suit. I gasped inside the helmet, the tinted visor fogging instantly with my hot breath, and for a split second the world tilted as his memories flooded me: the smell of fresh Dainese leather, the burn of track days, the endless hours edging in full gear for his followers. All of it was mine now.

I flexed my new gloved fingers, feeling the thick leather creak, the knuckles stiff and armored. The suit hugged every inch of me like a second skin—chest plates pressing against pecs I’d only ever jerked off to on my phone screen, the codpiece cupping a heavy, half-hard bulge that was already leaking pre into the liner. I could feel the sweat trapped inside from his ride earlier, slick and warm, making the leather slide deliciously against my skin whenever I shifted.

I was in an elevator—his elevator—mirror walls reflecting the anonymous geared figure I’d become. Black and yellow AGV Pista helmet sealed over my head, visor down, no face visible, just the Italian flag sticker and the faint reflection of my hungry eyes behind the dark tint. The Dainese suit was scuffed in all the right places, worn-in and lived-in, the black logo stretched tight across my chest. Knee pucks still dusty from the last session, gloves gripping the phone like they were made for it.

I raised the phone with his gloved hand—my gloved hand—and snapped the mirror selfie, thumb brushing the screen through the thick leather. The click of the shutter sent another jolt straight to my dick. I was Rubberscotty now. Every follower who’d ever begged for more gear pics, every comment calling him “god in leather,” every DM sliding into his inbox asking to worship the suit—they were all talking to me.

My free hand dropped to the bulge, pressing the palm of the glove firmly against the swollen ridge trapped in the suit. The pressure was perfect—firm, unyielding, the leather creaking as I ground into it. A low moan echoed inside the helmet, muffled and private. I could feel the heat building, the slickness spreading, the suit starting to cling even tighter as my cock throbbed for release.

The elevator doors slid open to an empty hallway, and I stepped out with that same gloved hand still pressed against my bulge, not giving a single fuck who might see. The building was quiet—his building—and I knew from the stolen memories that the underground garage was just a short walk away. But the need was already clawing at me, hot and urgent, the suit’s tight grip on my cock turning every step into delicious torture. I couldn’t wait until I got home.

I took the stairs down, boots thudding heavily, the leather creaking with each movement. By the time I pushed through the side exit into the little park behind the building, my dick was fully hard, straining against the codpiece, pre-cum soaking the inside of the suit in a slick, warm patch. The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, but the place was deserted—just me, the red bench, and the thick summer air.

I dropped onto the bench hard, legs spread wide like I owned the fucking world. The AGV Pista stayed sealed on my head, visor down, blue-tinted and mirrored—nobody could see my face, nobody would ever know it wasn’t really him. Just a geared-up biker taking a break. Anonymous. Untouchable.

Both gloved hands went straight to my thighs, palms sliding up the slick leather, feeling the heat radiating off the suit. I groaned inside the helmet, the sound echoing in the tight space. The gloves were thick, textured—perfect friction. I dragged them inward until my thumbs met at the bulge, pressing hard, outlining the thick ridge of my cock through the layers.

“Fuuuck,” I hissed to myself, grinding up into my own hands. The suit didn’t give much, but that was the point—every stroke was muffled, restrained, forcing the pleasure to build slow and filthy. I unzipped the jacket just enough to slip one hand inside, fingers finding the thin base layer clinging to sweat-slick skin, then lower, cupping the heavy swell of my balls through the liner. The other hand stayed outside, rubbing firmly along the shaft, the leather creaking rhythmically.

I could feel the wet spot spreading, pre leaking freely now, making the inside of the suit glide even smoother. My hips rocked forward involuntarily, fucking into the grip of my own gloved palm. Faster. Harder. The bench creaked under me, boots planted wide, knee sliders digging into the wood. Anyone walking by would just see a geared rider adjusting himself—nothing unusual for Rubberscotty’s followers, they’d probably cream their pants at the sight.

But inside the helmet, I was losing it. Breath fogging the visor, heart pounding against the chest protector, cock throbbing so hard it hurt. I squeezed tighter, thumb circling the head through the suit, imagining every thirsty comment I’d ever left on his posts now aimed at me. I was him. I was the fantasy.

The orgasm hit like a crash—sudden, brutal, perfect. Cum pulsed hot and thick into the liner, flooding the crotch of the suit, soaking everything in a sticky mess that cooled slowly against my skin. I kept stroking through it, milking every last drop, hips jerking, low moans muffled by the helmet.

When it finally faded, I just sat there, legs still spread, gloves resting on my thighs again, the suit now clinging even tighter with the fresh load trapped inside. I could smell it faintly—sweat, leather, cum. My new signature scent.

I lifted the phone with a shaking hand, snapped another pic for the story—geared god on his throne, spent and satisfied—and grinned behind the visor.

I finally dragged myself off that bench, the cooling cum in the suit making every step a slick, filthy reminder of what I'd just done. The walk to the garage was short—his bike was waiting, a sleek black monster that roared to life under my grip like it recognized its new master. I rode home hard, helmet sealed, visor down, the vibration of the engine buzzing straight through the soaked crotch of the suit and keeping me half-hard the whole way.

By the time I killed the engine in his private garage and climbed the stairs to the apartment, my balls were aching for round two. The place was exactly like his Insta stories—minimalist, gear everywhere, the faint smell of leather and rubber hanging in the air like perfume. But there was a package on the table, fresh delivery sticker still on it. His memories told me everything: he'd ordered these weeks ago, custom red Alpinestars Supertech R boots, the brightest, sluttiest colorway. Limited edition. He'd been teasing his followers about them for days.

I ripped the box open like a kid on Christmas, tissue paper crinkling as I pulled one boot free. Fuck, it was beautiful—glossy red leather, white logos popping, the inner bootie tight and ventilated, the sole aggressive and ready to grip pegs. I could already feel how they'd hug my calves, lock my ankles, make every shift on the bike feel like the gear was fucking my legs.

I didn't even bother taking off the Dainese suit yet. Still helmeted, still anonymous, I dropped into the chair right there, legs spread wide on the wooden floor. The black suit was crusty now, cum drying sticky against my skin, but that only made me harder. I held the new boot up, thumb tracing the Alpinestars star, then pressed the cool leather against my bulge. The contrast—black suit, red boot—sent a fresh surge of blood to my cock.

One gloved hand unzipped the suit just enough to fish my dick out, still slick with the last load. I wrapped the boot's shaft around it like a sleeve, the stiff new leather creaking as I stroked slow and deliberate. The smell hit me—fresh out of the box, that virgin leather scent mixing with the musky funk trapped in my suit. I groaned loud inside the helmet, hips thrusting up into the boot, pre leaking over the red surface and making it shine.

The other boot stayed in the box, waiting, but I couldn't stop. I fucked into the first one harder, imagining posting pics in full gear with these on—black suit, red boots screaming against it, followers losing their minds begging for more. My free hand yanked the suit open wider, exposing sweat-slick abs, pinching a nipple through the base layer until it hurt so good.

It didn't take long. The second orgasm ripped through me, cum shooting in thick ropes over the boot's instep, dripping down the white lettering, marking it as mine. I milked myself dry, rubbing the head against the soiled leather, smearing it in until the boot glistened wet and used.

Panting, spent, I finally slid my foot into it—still in the sock for now, but the fit was perfect, tight, possessive. The other one would get the same treatment soon.

Tomorrow I'd wear them on the bike. Tonight? I had all the time in the world to break them in properly.

The red boots were still warm and sticky when I finally peeled off the black Dainese suit, the dried cum cracking along the liner as I stripped it away. The apartment smelled like a gear whore’s paradise—leather, sweat, fresh rubber from the boots—and I wasn’t done. Not even close. His memories guided me straight to the closet, a fucking treasure trove of suits, helmets, gloves, and deeper in the back… the rubber stash.

I pulled out the full Alpinestars red one-piece—bright, aggressive, the kind of color that screams on the track and makes followers drool in DMs. GP Pro or some custom variant, perforated in all the right places, tight as sin. But what really made my cock jump was the black rubber hood tucked in the same shelf, thick shiny latex with only a mouth opening, no eyes, no identity. Full anonymity. Perfect for the real Rubberscotty content—the posts he teased but rarely showed.

I slid into the red suit slowly, savoring every inch. The leather was softer than the Dainese, broken in from hard rides, hugging my thighs and ass like it was painted on. Zipped it up to the neck, the Alpinestars stars stretching across my chest. Gloves next—red and black, grippy palms. Then the new red Supertech boots, still glistening from my load earlier, sliding over my feet with that perfect tight squeeze, the inner bootie gripping my ankles like a mouth.

Finally, the hood. I stretched the latex wide, rolled it down over my head, the rubber snapping into place with a wet smack. Instant darkness except for the faint glow through the mouth hole, the world muffled, my breath echoing hot and humid inside. No face. No eyes. Just a blank, shiny rubber drone in screaming red leather.

I stumbled to the full-length mirror in the hallway, phone already in my gloved hand. The reflection was pure filth—a faceless geared figure, red suit gleaming under the lights, black rubber head reflecting everything like a void. My cock was rock hard again, trapped in the tight codpiece, pre already soaking through.

One gloved hand pressed the phone to the mirror for the selfie, the other dropped straight to the bulge, rubbing hard through the leather. The hood amplified everything—every breath a rasp, every creak of the suit loud in my ears, the latex clinging to my skull, sweat building instantly. I ground into my palm, hips thrusting, imagining posting this faceless shot with a caption like “Who wants to worship the rubber slave?”

The friction was brutal, the suit not giving an inch, forcing the pleasure to build slow and torturous. I unzipped just enough to pull my dick free, hot and slick, and started stroking with the gloved hand—thick leather gripping tight, the other hand holding the phone steady as I recorded a short video, just the sound of my muffled moans and the rhythmic creak of gear.

I didn’t last long. The anonymity, the tightness, the smell of rubber and leather overwhelming me—cum shot hard against the mirror, splattering the glass in thick ropes, dripping down over the reflection of my blank rubber face. I kept pumping, milking it, smearing the head against the cooling mess until I was shaking.

Panting inside the hood, I snapped the pic anyway—faceless, geared, spent. Posted it to stories with no caption. Let the followers go insane guessing.

The rubber hood came off eventually, peeled away with a wet suck, leaving my face flushed and slick with sweat. But the hunger didn't stop—it only grew. His memories pulled me deeper into the closet, past the leather suits to the heavy rubber gear he'd kept for special nights. The full black latex catsuit, custom-made, thick and shiny, with attached gloves and feet, rear zip for access, and that glorious front crotch zip that teased in every photo he'd ever posted.

I stripped the red Alpinestars off slow, letting the leather pool at my feet, cock already throbbing again from the friction. The latex was colder, heavier—talced inside for that perfect slide. I stepped in, pulling it up inch by inch, the rubber snapping tight over my calves, thighs, ass, sealing me in like a second skin. The attached gloves flexed as I zipped the back with the pull cord, then the neck, every movement creaking and shining under the apartment lights.

I dropped into the chair by the window, legs spread wide, the rubber warming instantly to my body heat. The bulge was obscene—thick outline of my hard cock trapped behind the zipper, balls heavy and outlined perfectly. I grabbed the phone with one rubbered hand, the material squeaking as I angled the mirror selfie, hiding just enough of my face like he always did—teasing the followers, making them beg for more.

But I wasn't teasing anymore. The free hand went straight to the crotch zip, pulling it down slow, the teeth parting with a loud rasp. My cock sprang free, slick with pre, veins pulsing, head already dripping. The rubber framed it perfectly, tight ring around the base like a built-in cockring. I wrapped the gloved hand around it—latex on skin, slippery and unrelenting—and started stroking hard, no warm-up, no mercy.

"Fuuuck yes," I growled, voice echoing in the empty apartment. The suit creaked with every pump, rubber sliding against rubber, the shine catching the light as my hips bucked up into my fist. Sweat built fast inside the latex, making everything hotter, tighter, the encasement turning my whole body into one throbbing erogenous zone. I pinched a nipple through the rubber with the other hand, twisting hard, imagining every follower jerking to this exact view—Rubberscotty finally giving them the full show.

Faster. Harder. The chair groaned under me, rubber squeaking loud, pre leaking down my shaft and over the gloved fingers. I edged once—stopped right at the brink, balls drawing up tight, cock twitching angrily—then dove back in, stroking brutal and relentless. The climax built like a storm, every muscle in this stolen body tensing under the latex prison.

It exploded—cum shooting in long, thick ropes, splattering the shiny chest of the suit, dripping down over the abs, pooling in the creases. I kept pumping, milking it, wave after wave, moaning loud and filthy until I was drained, shaking, spent. The rubber held everything in—sweat, cum, heat—sealing me in my own mess.

I snapped the pic anyway, cock still out, zipper open, load glistening on black latex. Posted it without a word.

This was it. The peak. The body was mine forever now—every suit, every load, every filthy fantasy. Rubberscotty's life, upgraded. And I was never leaving.

Let’s see… I don’t think I wanna steal an already existing guy’s face like I usually do. I’ve been scrolling Instagram and TikTok for the past twenty minutes, and nothing’s really hitting right….

This one has gorgeous eyes… but ehh, I don’t like his hair and whole vibe. That guy’s cute, but way too feminine for what I’m going for

Nope… not this one either. Definitely not him

Ughhhhh

[A few moments later]

Ohh… you know what let’s just grab a bunch of younger guys I actually like and make my own. Okay… this guy’s face is promising… oh yeah, that one too… him… him… and him… aaaand him. Perfect. So now I’ve got ten faces, time to drag all these photos into Blender and see what kind of frakenstein magic I can cook up… hehehe

Alright, let’s start blending. Give him those sexy bedroom eyes… a sharp, defined jawline that could cut glass… a cute button nose… thick eyebrows… long, fluttery lashes… and plump, curly lips made for sucking dick

Yeahhh, just like that

[Blending the faces… Processing… Blending complete…]

Niceee… fuck, that’s already looking good.Now that the face is coming together, I need to level it up and find the perfect hair for him.…

Okay. This one right here? This hair’s perfect. Very Gen Z…

Now let’s plop that perfect hair right onto my disguise… thereee you gooo!! Daaaammnn, it’s already looking so fucking good! Shiiittt…!! Hahahaha 😆

[The face spins slowly 360 degrees on the screen from every angle]

Okay, this is actually so much fun! Creating a whole disguise from scratch like this feels next level. I should do this way more often. Now… let’s wait for it to print. Imma just drag this fresh face drags the rendered face straight into the face printer and hit start. While I’m waiting, let’s get the body ready

[Inside my skinsuit closet]

For a younger guy, I’m thinking lean and athletic. Visible abs, toned muscles, nothing too bulky. Fair, smooth skin… yeah, this one looks promising. Hmmm… it’s decent, but I really don’t like how flat the chest is

[Heading over to my other closet]

Heheheh… okay, let’s make this interesting. What if I slap on these huge tits? It would be so wild a lean, athletic body with massive, bouncy tits. Why the hell not right 😁

Ohohohooo…I can already picture myself using these fat, heavy pecs to jerk off whichever poor guy I end up catfishing tonight. Sliding his cock between them, watching his face melt… fuckkk 🤤

All I need to do is glue this breast plate onto the bodysuit. First, I spray the chest area generously with the glue spray… nice and even. Okay… now we wait about five minutes for it to get properly tacky before pressing the breast plate on. Five minutes later, the glue’s nice and tacky now… Perfect!

I pick up the heavy breast plate, feeling its soft, squishy weight in my hands. These things are ridiculous… big, round and perky, with puffy pink nipples that already look like they’re begging to be played with. I line it up carefully against the flat chest of the bodysuit, then press it down firmly, smoothing my palms over the curves to make sure it seals perfectly. No bubbles, no gaps. Just smooth, seamless fake flesh. I step back and admire my work. Now the body looks insane: lean athletic build, sharp abs, smooth fair skin… and then these massive, heavy tits sitting proudly on top like they own the place. The contrast is ridiculous and hot as hell 🤤

I can already imagine some thirsty older guy losing his mind when he sees them spilling out of a tight shirt. I give them a little playful bounce with my hands. They jiggle realistically

Hehehe, this is going to be so much fun~~

Next up…lower half!

I dig deeper into the closet and pull out a matching skinsuit bottom. This one comes with a thick, juicy ass. I step into the bodysuit carefully, sliding my legs in first, then working it up over my hips. The material hugs every inch of me like a second skin, cool and slick at first, then warming up as it molds to my body…

But wait! I’m not quite done yet. Something’s still missing down below. A hot 21 year old with massive tits and a fat ass needs the perfect cock to complete the fantasy. I grin and rummaging through the special genital attachments until I find it…the humongous pink cock and balls set I custom made months ago but never used. It’s insane: thick, veiny, and long even when soft, with a fat, bulbous pink head that already looks lewd as hell….❤️‍🔥

The balls are heavy, low hanging, and huge each one the size of a tennis balls, hairy and plump, swinging heavily with every movement. The whole package is hyper realistic, skin safe, and comes with internal reservoirs for cum simulation if I want to get really nasty

“Fuckkkyaaa… this is exactly what this slutty body needs 🤤”

I carefully detach the current flat crotch panel from the skinsuit and swap it out for the new genital plate plop

The attachment clicks into place with a satisfying seal, the edges blending seamlessly. I adjust the internal harness so everything sits perfectly. The massive pink cock hanging heavy and thick between my legs, the huge tennis balls resting full and pendulous underneath. Even soft, it’s already obscenely noticeable, the pink shaft curving slightly downward with realistic weight, the foreskin hugging the fat head just right

I can’t resist playing with it immediately.I wrap both hands around the thick shaft, feeling its realistic warmth and weight. It’s so big and hairy my fingers don’t even meet. I give it a slow, lazy stroke, watching the heavy balls sway and bounce

“Mmm… look at this fat fucking cock… bet you’d choke on it”

I keep stroking, teasing the fat pink head until it starts to plump up, thickening even more in my grip. The huge balls tighten slightly, the skin stretching smooth and shiny. The sensory feedback from the skinsuit is insane… every touch sends sparks straight to my real cock tucked away inside, mixing with the lingering mess from earlier. I give the heavy sack a gentle squeeze, rolling the big balls in my palm while I admire myself in the full length mirror

Once it’s fully on, I smooth everything down, making sure the seams at the waist blend perfectly with the chest plate. I turn sideways in front of the full length mirror and check myself out. Damn, lean torso, huge ass tits, and a fat ass… it’s giving Incubus energy, but with my own twisted twist. Exactly what I was going for 😈

I run my hands over the curves, squeezing the heavy pecs and giving my new ass a firm slap. The sound echoes satisfyingly. A little shiver runs through me. This bodysuit disguise is already turning me on, and I haven’t even put the face on yet hehehe…

There’s one more crucial detail I can’t skip. I don’t just look the part, I have to smell like one too. And not just any smell. I want that perfect, addictive young guy musk that drives people crazy: fresh, cocky, slightly sweet, with that deep, warm musky skin scent that makes them want to bury their face in my neck and armpits and lose control

I head over to my scent lab corner. It’s a messy shelf packed with little vials, pheromone concentrates, essential oils, and custom skin safe mixes I’ve been tinkering with for years. Let’s create something special for this disguise! 😁

I grab a clean spray bottle and start mixing. First, a base of warm, clean skin scent, something that smells like fresh sweat after a light gym or basketball session, but not too gross, just inviting... I add a few drops of that. Next, a hint of sweet youthfulness and a touch of ripe tang for that boyish freshness. Then comes the dangerous part…ouuuuh the pheromones. I drip in a generous amount of my strongest young alpha blend: a custom mix that’s heavy on androstenone and androstadienone, the stuff that makes guys’ brains short circuit and their cocks twitch without them even knowing why. Aaand for extra heat, I throw in a whisper of cedarwood and a tiny bit of musk from my freshly fucked collection. Just enough to make it smell like I’ve been horny and ready all day, hihihi

I shake the bottle hard, then spritz that bad boy on my right armpit and take a deep sniff. Ffffuuuuckkkkk….!! 🤤🤤 that’s perfect .It’s exactly what I wanted: clean, youthful, a little sweet, but underneath it all there’s this raw, masculine undertone that screams atrouble. The kind of scent that lingers in the air and makes someone want to pin me down and inhale me like a drug

I grin wickedly and start spraying it all over my new body, generous mist across my neck, down my smooth chest and between those massive tits, under my arms, along my lean abs, and especially around my thick ass and the hidden pouch where my cock sits tucked away

The warm mist settles on my skin, mixing with the realistic texture of the skinsuit. Within seconds, the whole disguise starts radiating that irresistible young guy pheromone cloud .I take another deep breath, letting the scent fill my lungs. Shiiii… even I’m getting turned on by how good it smells…. Now the illusion is almost complete….

But but but…I still have another piece to complete — the voice. A 21 year old guy doesn’t just look and smell like fresh, cocky trouble… he has to sound like it too. That smooth, youthful timbre with just the right hint of cocky swagger and bedroom rasp. The kind that makes dicks twitch the second I open my mouth

I head over to my tech bench, the one cluttered with circuit boards, tiny speakers, and voice modulators I’ve been hacking for years. Time to build something special~

I turn up my voice software, pull up the voice library, and start designing from scratch. I want it deep enough to sound masculine but still boyishly bright. I layer in a light, flirty huskiness…atouch of playful and nasty growl on the low notes, and a little crackle when I get excited or horny. I tweak the pitch until it sits right: young, energetic, but soft, velvety masculine that is just hard to ignore. Then I add subtle pheromone reactive modulation so the voice actually shifts a tiny bit warmer and breathier when my body heat rises. Filthy little detail, but it’s gonna be lethal 😏

I etch the custom chip, solder the micro speaker array, and coat everything in a thin, skin safe adhesive. The finished modulator is tiny, no bigger than a grain of rice with a soft, flexible throat patch that will blend perfectly under the mask’s neck seam. I tilt my head back, stretch the skin at the base of my throat, and press the chip into place. It warms instantly, syncing with the skinsuit’s neural layer. A quick calibration beep vibrates through my neck

“Alright… let’s test this bad boy” I clear my throat or at least try to. My normal, voice comes out first “Hey… testing, one two—” it cracks halfway. The sound warps, pitching up smoothly, smoothing out into something lighter, fresher, younger “—testing… whoa, fuck…” My eyes widen. The new voice is exactly what I wanted. Smooth, cocky, with that playful lilt that screams 21 year old brat who knows exactly how hot he is

I grin and keep going, letting my old voice bleed and melt into the new one on purpose.“Yo, what’s good… you like what you see?” The last word comes out in my old tone for half a second before the chip takes over completely. Deep, flirty, drippin’ in youthful swagger. It sends a shiver straight down my spine.

I squeeze my huge, jiggly, fat pecs and really start playing “Mmmmhmm… you wanna bury your face right here?” My voice cracking once more from old to new before locking in perfectly. The sound is so fucking hot it makes my freshly spent cock twitch again inside the soaked pouch. The modulator handles every filthy syllable flawlessly now. I moan low and long just to hear it, letting the sound roll around the room. Fuuuckk this is my new voice…

“Bet you’d love to slide your dick between these fat tits while I talk you through it…ya? Tell me how bad you want this tight ass…”

I hold my pecs then streeeeetttchhh them upward…. Unghhhmmm…. PPLLOOOOPPP!! They stretch back to my chest…ffuckk!! My cock twitch and spurt a cum immediately

My nipples peak hard against the heavy breast plate, and I can feel my ass clench involuntarily

beep beep beep beeeeeep

Finally, the printer finally beeps, signaling that the face is done. I walk over, open the tray and carefully lift out the freshly printed mask. It feels warm and supple in my hands, the skin texture is insanely realistic. Holy fuckin shit…. Staring back at me is a ridiculously hot younger guy. Those bedroom eyes stare back at me, hollowed, framed by thick brows and long lashes. The plump, curly lips look even more perfect in person.

I put my fingers inside the mouth, feeling the slick wet of the pink tongue and perfectly white teeth. The moment my fingers slide inside, the warm, slick wetness of the perfectly textured pink tongue greets me. Soft, wet, and so lifelike it makes my breath hitch. I run my fingertips along the smooth, perfectly white teeth, feeling the gentle ridges and the way the inner cheeks hug my fingers like a real mouth. The saliva like lubricant built into the mask makes everything glide slickly, warm and inviting….

“Mmmmfff… fuckkkk”

The sensation is overwhelming. My fingers explore deeper, pressing against the squishy tongue, tracing the roof of the mouth, feeling every hype realistic detail. The mask’s micro expressions make my lips pout and stretch naturally around my knuckles. I can’t stop there.My free hand drops down. My huge cock springs out heavily, already thickening from all the teasing. I wrap my fingers around the thick, veiny shaft, which still slick from the earlier mess and guide the fat, bulbous pink head toward the mask’s mouth. I press the swollen tip against the plump lips and slowly push inside…..

“Ohhhhhhhhffff…uckkk….🤤💦”

The mouth stretches open perfectly around the massive girth, the slick tongue curling instinctively against the underside as I slide deeper. The wet heat envelops me inch by inch, the realistic throat giving just enough resistance to feel filthy and tight

“Hnnnghhh….!!😖”

I hold the base of my cock steady and start jerking it slowly right there, fucking my own mask’s mouth with deliberate strokes feeling every ridge of the teeth and the slippery tongue

“Njirrrr… that’s so good…!!” I moan in that smooth in my new voice. The dual sensation is insane my real hand pumping the thick pink cock, the slick, warm mouth sucking and sliding around it, the heavy balls swinging heavily with every thrust. The pheromone cloud from my neck, pecs, and now the musky scent rising off the cock itself creates a thick, heady fog that makes my head spin…. 🤤

Glork..!! Gloorrk…!! Ghmmmphh…!! Glorrrk…schlorrrrrppp…!!

“Ahhhhhh….!!!”

I push it deeper, watching in the mirror as my plump lips stretch obscenely around the humongous shaft, a thin string of saliva dripping down the chin. My massive tits bounce softly with the rhythm, the fat ass clenching behind me, and the new voice keeps spilling out broken, horny moans, whimpers

“Mmm… OHHH yeah, take this fat cock… just like that…”

My tucked away real cock throbs hard inside the skinsuit cock, leaking again into the already messy lining. I speed up, jerking harder, fucking the mask’s mouth with shallow, greedy thrusts until my thighs start to tremble

Byuuuurrrrrrttt….!!

“GAHHH💦💦”

The orgasm hits me like a wave, sudden and intense. I bury the humongous pink cock as deep as the mouth allows and cum hard….

Thick spurts pulsing down the simulated throat while my own body shakes and my voice cracks into a high, desperate moan

“Haaahh…haaah…hahh…”

When I finally pull out, the fat pink head glistens with slick, my plump lips stay parted and puffy, a messy string of saliva connecting them to the tip. I’m panting, flushed under the mask, tits heaving, that ridiculous cock still half hard and swinging

“Shit… this is way too fucking dangerous,” I laugh breathlessly. “If I’m this turned on just testing it… those poor guys are gonna get absolutely destroyed tonight”

With a deep breath, I stretch the mask open and start pulling it over my head. The material slides down smoothly, hugging my scalp, my cheeks, my jaw. I carefully align the eye holes, nose, and mouth, then press and smooth everything into place until it seals seamlessly at the neck. Then I hold both of my smooth cheeks so wide and give em a good nghmmm…!! Streeeeeettttchhh….!! From side to side and —— PLOP!! PLOOOPP!!

Fuckkk yaaa that feels good heheheh… 🤪🤤

I step closer to the full length mirror wall, raising both hands to rub my smooth cheeks steadily. The skin feels soft, supple, with that perfect youthful tightness under my fingertips. Damn, ten different faces blended together, and this is what I ended up with. A dangerous hot 21 year old stud staring back at me. I can still taste the faint, salty remnants of my cum lingering inside the mask’s mouth. It makes my tongue glide over the perfectly white teeth as I savor it, a filthy little reminder that turns me on all over again. I lock eyes with my reflection and start eye fucking myself hard. Tilting my head, biting my lower lip, letting my bedroom eyes go heavy and hungry. Every expression feels so natural thanks to the mask’s micro movements. I raise an eyebrow, smirk arrogantly, then flash a bright, boyish grin

YAY I LOOK SO PRETTY!!!

Then I really let go… I slide into a couple of proper goon faces. Eyes rolling back slightly, tongue lolling out just a bit, lips parted in that dumb, horny, brain-melted expression. I push it further “Ngaaahhh~~” full ahegao vibes mixed with pure gooner bliss, crossed eyes, flushed cheeks under the skin, mouth hanging open in a sloppy O while I let out a filthy moan “Fuuuuck… this face can pull the filthiest, hottest goon face ever!”

I hold the nastiest goon expression for a few extra seconds, letting my new voice spill out in a breathy, desperate whimper.

“Shit… if this is what I look like when I’m lost in it… those guys guys are gonna lose their fucking minds”

One….last…..final…adjustment…. 🙏🏽🙏🏽

This bad boy doesn’t just smell like a sexy young stallion from the neck down. That fresh, messy hair has to carry its own filthy little signature too. I want it to scream “just rolled out of bed after jerking off all night”. Clean, sporty, with that warm, boyish scalp musk that makes people weak. I reach for my special hair scent kit. A custom blend I’ve been perfecting: premium hair mist base mixed with my strongest pheromone concentrate. I spritz a generous cloud directly into the roots of my new hair, working it through with my fingers so it sinks into every strand. Another light mist over the ends for that lingering “come closer” effect. I shake my head once, letting the scent bloom

“Fuckkk….”

The moment the warm, silky strands brush my cheeks and the full aroma hits my nose, it’s like a goddamn freight train of pure lust slams into me. It mixes instantly with the body pheromone cloud still rising off my neck, my chest, my cock… turning the whole disguise into one walking, breathing aphrodisiac bomb. I lean in closer to the mirror, my fingers dig deep into a thick lock of hair, then I bring my fingers into my nose and inhale deep long and greedy. Fuuuuck… the overload is instant. The scent floods every sense: warm, cocky, horny, addictive, like I’ve been edged for hours and someone just whispered “cum for me” directly into my skull

”Oh shit… oh my god— 💦💦”

I let out helpless groan rips out of me as my cock erupts Thick, hot ropes pulse out in heavy spurts, soaking the inner lining, no hands needed, just the overwhelming smell of my own perfect disguise pushing me over the edge. My whole body shakes, as I ride the longest, most intense HFO I’ve had in months. The scent keeps rolling over me in waves, milking every last drop while I whimper and gasp like a begging slut. When it finally slows, I’m panting, flushed a stupid, blissed out grin spreading across my face

“Fffuckkkk… hmmmm”

I laugh breathlessly, still sniffing my hair like an addict. “If this smell wrecks me this hard… those guys aren’t gonna stand a chance”

I give my soaked cock a little satisfied pat through the skinsuit, feeling the warm mess shift inside, then strike one last pose in the mirror.

Fuuuuck… this is too much even for me. I’m gonna have guys drooling and begging the second they see and feel me like this…

Alright, now I’m really ready to ruin someone with this new look… 😈

Alumni are always looking for the right young men to train.

Some will volunteer...

And those who are chosen know they will enjoy their experiences.

Alejo had been gone for the long weekend, and I have to say it was bittersweet. Sure, it was nice to have the apartment to myself, but he and I get along quite well! You would hope after two years of rooming together that you get to a point where there's a sort of balance and understanding between you and your roommate. In my case, it's absolutely true. We've gotten comfortable with eachother, I've gotten used to his girlfriend Bianca coming to hang out on 'Game Night Fridays;' overall, its been a great experience.

So, even though a quick Friday to Monday trip for Alejo and Bianca was nothing extensive, I was extremely excited to see him again. In fact, receiving his text that he'd arrived back safely at the flat had my head spinning with curiosity about his time in Rio. I rounded the corner, and another ping rang from my phone. I look down and my brow immediately raises quizzically. He'd lost his apartment keys? Looking down at my phone as I walked up to the building, I was moderately perplexed. The normally tight-wound, meticulous Alejo would never lose track of his keys, let alone be so relaxed in the midst of it. He was back from an international vacation, however, so I dismissed it as a brain fart after a long day of traveling. Though as I pulled the heavy glass door open to our building lobby, the sight that met me should have dismissed that simple explanation right off the bat.

"Ayy! Dante!" The name caught me off guard. William Dante Alaverdian. That's my name. I always introduce myself as Will, or even William if we had just met. Dante is never the name I use in my everyday life, only a few people would know it- and one of them sat on the top of the room divider looking quite different from the last I had seen him.

"Dante!" He sat on the half wall, grinning from ear to ear. It was indeed Alejo, though not the Alejo that had departed his apartment a week prior. His hair was short and cropped; his arms were covered in ink. Gone were the polos, the khaki shorts, the boat shoes... all replaced with a sweaty black tank top, baggy jeans, and bulky Nikes. This was quite an aesthetic departure from that I had known, and far more than a meager wardrobe change. Even the demeanor in which he sat on the wall belied a strangely rebellious attitude, only further confirmed by the irritated glance of the lobby security guard he so blissfully ignored.

"Alejo... Is that you? Get off that, the guard is watching!" Alejo turned to see the man, scoffing as he hopped off the wall. As he strutted forward, I noticed his stature. He was always a tall guy, but as he approached me it was clear that a couple of inches had been added to his height. He slapped me on the back, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Man, I missed you!" His voice even sounded... off. Relaxed pronunciation of consonants, a somewhat higher timbre to his speech, had he gotten his teeth done? I looked Alejo up and down, completely perplexed.

"You look... Different..." Alejo chuckled, looking at his arms with a somewhat dim grin on his face.

"Ah, yeah. Might have gone overboard with the tatts. But it looks pretty sick, right?" He nudged me, his elbow jabbing into my side and laughing before tossing his arm around my neck. I didn't know how to react. We made our way to the elevator, this newfound stranger acting as if everything was normal. "Sorry I lost the keys, bro. I don't know where my head is these days, huhu!" This jovial tone, if not borderline braindead, was yet another new characteristic which set off alarms within me. Despite our friendship, I'm not afraid to admit Alejo was something of a sour personality, sometimes treading into insufferable territory with his pessimistic outlook on his life and the world around him. Again, I dismissed it as a rejuvinated and relaxed guy who had just returned from a good vacation.

"Yeah, I'm eager to hear about your trip and all of... this." I tried to pretend as if I didn't notice the shift, smiling as the elevator doors opened and we walked onto the empty lift. It began it's slow trek to the eighth floor, and that's when I first caught the scent. Sharp, musky... As if he'd forgotten his deodorant that morning. Yet another peculiarity for such a... perfectionist of his caliber. I try to ignore the subtle wafts from his pits with a subject change. "So... do you know where your keys are?" I hoped he'd be able to suffer through the smell until we were in fresher air.

"Oh, heh! Fuck, bro. I don't know, hah! Probably in the Uber. Maybe Bianca had 'em in her purse. Who knows, bro." I was less than enthused, but willing to overlook it. A quick replacement key made at the keysmith and that would be that. Though as he started to blather on about Ipanema and the girls on the beach... that's when I first noticed it. Perhaps the sight of it was blocked by the bagginess of the jeans at first glance, but as Alejo stood there completely upright, I could see it. A rather considerable patch of dampness on the crotch of his jeans.

"Fuck! Alejo did you fucking wet yourself?" He casually glanced down at his groin, a daft giggle escaping his lips.

"Oh. Nah it's not piss. I'm just a bit leaky today, if you know what I mean!" My jaw hung wide open, aghast at the audacity of what I'd had heard. This display did not go unnoticed by Alejo, who quickly brushed it off. "It's just a little pre, my dude. It's not gonna hurt ya!" The elevator doors opened, the clean air of the hallway rushing into the confined space. I quickly exited the elevator and quickly started to walk toward the apartment door.

Sticking my key into the lock, I watched as a wry grin slithered onto his face as he walked inside. It was only then as he strutted over the couch and crashed onto his back, smirking as he scrolled through his phone that I realized... where were his bags?

"Uh, Alejo... Did you forget something else? Your luggage?" He didn't even look up from his phone- smiling and waving off my concern.

"Craziest shit, my dude. I guess I packed old clothes or somethin', when I got there like half of my stuff didn't fit. So, a couple of cool dudes I met at the hotel were happy to share some threads. Should be gettin' here in a day or two!" Alejo kicked his sneakers off, landing with loud thuds on the floor, showing of his dirty socks. At this point, I can't deny it- something is wrong. A clean freak like Alejo wouldn't be caught dead with dirty, pungent socks on his feet. Especially without a care in the world. I sit there in awe for a moment, confused beyond all confusion before I head into my room to escape the cheesy scent of his sneakers wafting through the air.

The next few days, I watched Alejo with a careful eye. His pristine appearance had all but disappeared. Gone were the days of his pressed and tidy button ups, crisp chinos and Sperries. Instead, every day as I left to go to work, he'd dressed in whatever his Brazilian 'bros' had sent him. Jerseys, baggy jeans, gold chains, high top Chucks, tank tops, crop tops, Nikes... and the now ever present and seemingly growing wet patch on his crotch. I didn't recognize my roommate of two years whatsoever. Even coming home after a long day at the office, he'd be in his room with the door locked with loud music at all times of the night. Smoke would flow from under the door more and more, easily identifiable as cannabis- yet another thing that the Alejo I knew had been vehemently opposed to, and now suddenly a nightly user.

Don't get me wrong, he was always as cordial and friendly as before- if not more. He'd try to invite me to play whatever FIFA game he'd bought in his room, or to go to have drinks at a bar... But the more I observed him, the less I could pin him down. I'd started spending more and more time in the courtyard before heading in to the apartment: finishing spreadsheets for work or just watching YouTube videos. Yeah, I was avoiding him. I'd signed up to room with the old Alejo... not whoever this was. Every time I'd come in late, he'd already be in his room, music blaring and smoke flowing from the crack in the door. He didn't say anything for a while, I assume thinking that I was working later and later. With this newfound dumbass brain he seemed to have, it would have made sense. Though, as I walked through the courtyard doors that Saturday night, that tactic quickly came to an end.

"Dante!" I stopped dead in my tracks, turning to the chair across the pool to see Alejo sitting there with a smirk on his face. "Cmon roomie, let's talk." I approached slowly, noting the gigantic damp patch on his jeans yet again. This time, so wet in fact that one could see the sheen of his slimy pre reflecting on the surface of the fabric. I took the chair next to him, sitting down in front of him quietly, awaiting whatever it was he was going to say.

"Bro, I feel like you've been hiding from me! Where you been?" He spread his legs widely for me, his smelly Chucks landing on either side of my chair. The stain on his groin was fully visible now, massive in fact- almost the size of his entire hand. I could smell the almost chlorine scent of cum mixed with the strong scent of unwashed cock bellowing out of his pants. "It's like you've been avoiding me ever since I got back..." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his face a mere foot or so away from mine. Flashing a sly grin with his perfect teeth, I found myself feeling... objectified. Though his eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, I could feel them roaming over me. "Could it be because you're just taking in the new and improved Alejo? 'Cuz I could get that. Things are a little different now, I'm definitely feelin' myself these days..."

I watched with absolute confusion, quickly shifting to shock as he brought his hand to the wet bulge in his pants, slowly kneading it. You could hear the squishing, slimy sound of his wet crotch... And here's the thing. As a very out and proud gay man, this sort of situation playing out would be very different if it were anyone else other than Alejo. The guy was as straight as an arrow, planning on engaging Bianca in the next few weeks. This Alejo looked at me like a wet pussy ready to be bred. But in that moment, I found myself watching his lustful smirk, pawing at his dripping crotch, even taking the time to bring his finger to his lips- suckling on it.

"I think... it's about time you took me up on roomie time." Alejo leapt up, strutting to my side, his fragrant crotch in front of my face. "Whaddya say, bro?" I suppose the right word to describe myself as I stared at the outline of his lengthening bulge straining against his jeans would be... dicknotized. No rhyme... no reason... just letting the moment come to pass with no hesitation. All my concerns, all of my suspicion melted away as I took his hand and followed him back to the elevator and up to our apartment. We stopped in front of his door for a moment, just for him to turn to me and say, "Excuse the mess, bro. Heheh."

He opened the door, and had I not been completely encapsulated by his flirtatious energy, I would have been floored. The room was a disaster. Dirty laundry strewn all over the floor, the comforter tossed into the corner, sweat stained sheets on the mattress, a gigantic bong on the side table, but above all... condoms. Used condoms, untied and hanging on every surface in the room. A fleshlight uncapped sat on the bed, his spunk still dripping from the clear silicone hole. The room stank of weed, cum, dick, and feet- on the balcony, pairs of reeking sneakers sat piled up.

Each of these things would have turned me off in their own right. Questionable hygiene aside, the state of the room itself should have been enough for me to have legitimate reason to pass on 'hanging out' with him. Yet, that wasn't what happened. I saw him flash those pretty brown eyes, smile with those plump lips, and I couldn't bring myself to say no. I walked into the room as he shut the door.

"Take a load off, bro. I'll pack us a bowl." I did as he suggested, sitting down onto the bed, my gaze subtly shifting between his beautiful ass bending over to tend to the bong and the dripping fleshlight to my left. He turned around, picking up the bong and plopping down next to me. He smiled as he ignited the bowl, taking in a deep breath of smoke before blowing a large cloud into the air with a satisfied sigh. "Ahh, that's better. Here ya go, bro."

He handed me the bong. He fell backward onto his back, his arms behind his head as he waited for me to take a toke. The water seemed mostly clean, a white film seemed to sit atop the basin, but surely nothing to worry about if he'd just taken his own hit. I brought the bong to my lips, flicked the lighter and inhaled the dank, salty smoke that filled the pipe. I coughed as I let out my very first toke of weed. Alejo smiled and laughed.

"Bro! You goin' WILD on your first time out! Atta boy!" I mirrored his smile as the smoke flowed from my mouth. "Here, dude I found a new show for us. We're gonna do roomie time every night, man." Though it wasn't the Alejo I'd known, it was great to have him around again. We continued to smoke as he put on some ridiculous show: four best friends in Boston and their shenanigans owning a bar. As we watched the show, taking turns with the bong, I could tell where the show's tone was headed... The guys were always paling around, roughhousing, just four idiots being idiots; good looking idiots at that. I can't say I was super into the show, but strangely enough, neither was Alejo. I could feel his penetrating stare and smirk from behind me, watching me, roaming over my body. Just the feeling of being ogled was enough for me to endure 'roomie time.'

We finished three or so episodes that night before I had to head to bed. Standing up, I made my excuses and headed toward the door. I exited, and as I closed the door, I peeked through the crack just in time to see him unzipping his jeans and grabbing ahold of the fleshlight. I quickly shut the door, and headed back to my room. By the time I did, the loud music began to bang through the walls. Though, upon listening closer that evening, I could hear him moaning through the guitar riffs.

The next morning, I awoke with quite the headache. The weed must have hit me hard last night. I was groggy, the room was spinning, a sharp pain in my forehead radiating like a screwdriver being jabbed into my brain. I stumbled to my feet and walked toward the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, my eyes were still bloodshot, and I'd been sweating all night long, my underwear drenched in sweat. I brought my hand to my forehead- yup, a fever indeed. I called off of work shortly after and dragged my feet to the kitchen. Alejo stood there shirtless, making eggs with a chipper smile on his face.

"Morning, bro! I made us some breakfast before you go to..." He turned, catching sight of me seemed to take him aback. "Whoa... You look rough, dude. You feeling okay?" I rubbed my face, pain still radiating from my head.

"I don't know... Do you usually get headaches after smoking?" He stood there for a moment, as if he were trying to remember what we had done last night before he broke out laughing.

"Oh shit, bro! I forgot how much you hit the bowl last night! Heheh, yeah I bet you feel like shit. Here, I got just the thing for it." He dropped the pan with the eggs onto the countertop, and strutted toward his room. He waved for me to follow, which I did in my still somewhat inebriated state. The room was even more discheveled if you can believe it, the fleshlight sitting ever present on his pillow. From his top drawer, he pulled out a small bag. "Here, bro, take one of these."

He dropped two small white gummies into my hand. Without hesitation, I gulped them down. Coconut flavor... with a strange peppery aftertaste. Alejo smiled and patted me on the back.

"Best way to cure a weed hangover? More weed, bro. Wait 'til these kick in, you'll be chilled out in no time." I should have known better, I should have asked what they were, I should have just gotten some chicken soup and suffered through it. But I didn't. I just stared at Alejo's bright smile, his beautiful tanned muscles, the huge wet spot on his black pants... I was getting more and more smitten with him by the second. "Bro, the bright side is... we got all day for roomie time! Here, chill here, I'll get the eggs and we can kick it all day long!" He scurried out of the room, leaving me alone in his room.

I looked down at my feet as I walked toward the bed, walking over his condoms and crusty socks with care until I sat down on the mattress. His scent was thick in the room, the sheets had soaked up his sweat like a sponge, and the open balcony door wafted in the ripe scent of his sneakers. The smell was starting to grow on me, for a reason I can't explain, I started to associate pungent scent with the new Alejo... The one I couldn't stop thinking about, the one who I'd all but started to thirst for. I leaned back, waiting for the ringing in my ears to subside, before I realized that something cool and sticky was sitting beneath my palms. Turning around, I quickly sat up upon seeing just what it was: his dirty thong.

I shuffled over to the other side of the bed, staring at the slimy red thong sitting alone atop the stained sheets. I looked at my hand, still sticky... I knew what it was, I couldn't even deny it in my head. Yet, I found myself staring intensely at it. I watched as my fingers creeped closer and closer to my face, until it was right under my nose. I breathed in. Salty, sweet, sharp... I couldn't stop myself from sniffing at my slimy fingers, I couldn't stop myself from letting my fingers slide down toward my lips, I couldn't stop them from slipping past my lips. I heard the squeaking of his sneakers as he approached with breakfast, quickly licking the slime off my fingers before he walked into the room.

"Aiiight! Eat up, homie! Made with love, just for you." He winked at me, handing me the plate, butterflies flying about in my stomach. Just as he plopped down on the futon across from me, the gummies started to kick in. As promised, the headache immediately subsided, but I found myself yet again in a state of light delirium. We sat and ate, laughing like jackasses and joking about our sexual conquests. I couldn't help but laugh as he'd talk about his Latin Leche, and how good it must feel to have it fill a pussy. Little did he know, I'd had a taste of it myself. In my delirium, it made sense to finally ask him about the little friend sitting on the nightstand.

"So... I noticed your new pal over there. What's up with that?" I pointed to the fleshlight on the nightstand, and Alejo immediately grinned from ear to ear.

"Oh, fuck bro. Here, give it to me." I leaned over, picking up the plastic container, surprised at just how heavy it was. I stood up, walking over to him he reached his hand out to take it from me, but I felt frozen as I stared at him. The damp patch seemed to grow bigger and bigger by the day... as did the scent which wafted from his beautiful body. He smiled, chuckling to himself as I stood there, taking in his studliness. Instead of the fleshlight in my hands, his fingers wrapped around the waistband of my sweats, pulling gently. "Heh, like what you see, bro?"

I could barely move, entirely locked in place as his fingers slipped past my waistband and onto my underwear. His grin turned mischievous, a lusty smirk instead creeping across his face as his hand moved further south, past my pubes until the tip of his finger had touched the base of my growing shaft. His eyes never broke with mine as his hand wrapped around my cock.

"Yeahh, homie. You like what you see. I thought so." He slipped his hand out of my pants, grabbing ahold of the fleshlight as if nothing had just happened. I stood there in shock. What did it mean? Did it happen? Was it an edible hallucination? How would I know, it's my first edible? He looked at the sticky fleshlight and laughed. "Nice, right? Bro, it feels just like good ass. Better than ass, man. Milks ya dry." He slipped his fingers into the tight hole, fingering it until he'd gotten a considerable glob of his spunk on his fingers. I was rock hard. Standing there like an idiot, just watching as he played with the slime on his fingertips before wiping it on his crotch. "So... Roomie. Wanna try it out?"

My face flushed. Did I? The hole glistened with his cum, from the sheer weight of it, several loads were in there- and not small ones. The thought of his sloppy seconds sounded strangely hot, and as he patted the seat next to him on the futon, I found myself yet again doing as I was told. I sat down, having no resistance as he pulled my sweat pants down to my ankles. His devilish smirk never subsiding, his eyes not breaking from mine, he slowly tugged on my underwear until my cock had slapped against my belly and into the open.

"Nice cock, bro." His voice was low and sultry as he took my manhood into his hand, slowly stroking me. I could only whimper and moan as he pumped me, closing my eyes in bliss. He worked it like an expert. His fingers circled around my head as he slid his hand up and down my pulsating shaft. As I continued moaning in bliss, I heard the faintest sound of a zipper, then a wet slap. He took my hand into his, guiding it over to him until I opened my eyes to see it slowly wrap around his own cock. It was magnificent. Long, slender, his foreskin covering his dripping tip. The pre flowed like a waterfall, pooling atop his pants. He wrapped my hand around the slimy dick as he moved it up and down. A few seconds is all it took before I was pumping that gorgeous cock, staring at the massive swollen balls slowly undulating below. We stroked eachother for a while, staring into eachother's eyes, huffing as we did. "Here, homie. I got you." His hand slipped off my cock, and I felt the silicone hole press against my head. His loads seeped out of the fleshlight, coating my cock with his cum before he slowly pressed it down.

Ecstasy. I screamed out in pleasure as the fleshlight swallowed my cock, squelching wetly as it did. Up and down, my cock begged for it. His cum slithering around my hard dick as he pumped it. We took turns- just as I was about to blow, he slipped it off with a loud 'shlorp,' slipping it over his own dirty cock and pumping. The pungent scent of sex filled the room for the next two hours of us edging eachother. Our cocks were glazed in our juices, mingling with eachother on our leaking shafts. Soon, we had each blasted our seed into the plastic tube, our foreheads pressed together, fists on eachother's cocks... We collapsed back against the futon, laughing and pumping eachother's knuckles. I felt free... I felt relaxed... I felt sexy... This new Alejo had come back a different person, and I was here for it. He handed me a dirty sock to wipe myself with, a task he'd just completed.

"My boy! This is the kind of roomie time I'm talkin' about, homie!" Alejo slapped me on the back, as I chuckled a soft laugh. We spent the rest of the day just as we did the night before. Shootin' the shit, laughing til we couldn't breathe, laughing about our swollen balls, playin' video games until the sun came up the next day. "Shit, man. Sun's up. You got work today?" I did, but my brain had taken a different route altogether. What harm would another day off be? I hadn't used my sick days, and I'm feeling sick... It's not a lie...

"Eh. I took the week." Not true. It wasn't true. I hadn't even asked, let alone gotten anything approved... But the shit eating grin on Alejo's face was enough of a reason in my mind.

"Ah, shit, man! Boy do I got plans for you." The days went by like a blur. I don't remember it all, just bits and pieces here and there. That second day though, I remember well. I'd made my announcement, my lie, I was to be off for the next six days. Alejo grinned, saying he would pack another bowl for us. His seemingly unending stash had truly surprised me, never without a nugget to be ground. I'd decided to try and wash the stink that had accumulated from 22 hours of roomie time. I remember walking to the bathroom, feelin' odder than usual. I couldn't tell you why, or what exactly felt off... but I can say, my balls felt like bowling balls. I flipped the lights on, looked into the mirror... and I just stood there for a moment. Struck with awe.

---

STAY TUNED FOR PART 2!

I moved silently, the syringe hidden in my palm. It was filled with a substance I’d perfected over years—something that would transform him from a person into something wearable, a skin that would soon become my own. I approached him casually, as if I belonged there, and before he could react, I struck.

The needle plunged into his neck, and the fluid surged into his bloodstream. He spun around, eyes wide with confusion, but I held him steady as the process began. The substance spread quickly, numbing his body, turning his flesh malleable. He tried to speak, but all that escaped was a strangled gasp.

As he collapsed to his knees, I could see the change taking hold. His muscles, once hard and defined, began to soften, his skin turning almost translucent. His entire body was losing its structure, his strength dissolving into nothing. But the real transformation was still to come.

I reached down, grasping him by the base of his dick feeling the last bit of resistance in his once-powerful form. With a firm, deliberate motion, I began to squeeze, forcing the last of his essence out of him. His soul, his very life force, was being channeled through that final point of connection, expelled with each pulsing throb.

His eyes widened in a mix of shock and disbelief as he realized what was happening. He could feel himself draining away, his identity slipping out with each forceful squeeze. I didn’t stop until he was empty, until every last drop of his essence had been extracted, leaving nothing but a hollow shell.

The body, now nothing more than skin, slumped forward, utterly devoid of life. I lifted him carefully, his once-imposing frame now light and pliable. With a sense of anticipation, I began the process of stepping inside. The skin wrapped around me like a glove, his features, his muscles, molding to my shape, tightening as if I’d been born in this body.

Once I was fully inside, I flexed his fingers, rolled his shoulders, feeling the power that was now mine. I looked in the mirror, and there he was—no, there I was. The same smirk, the same confident stance, but with my mind, my will behind it all.

Nick wandered through the cluttered aisles of the second-hand store, his eyes scanning the shelves for hidden treasures. Among the jumble of old trinkets and forgotten clothing, a pair of worn Wesco boots caught his attention. Despite their scuffed appearance, there was something about them that drew him in.

With a shrug, Nick decided to take a chance and purchased the boots. As he cleaned them up at home, he couldn’t shake the feeling of excitement coursing through him. Little did he know, those boots held a secret beyond his wildest imagination.

Slipping the boots on, Nick felt a strange sensation wash over him. It started as a tingling in his toes, then spread throughout his entire body. His muscles tensed, his skin prickled, and he stumbled backward, clutching onto the nearest piece of furniture for support.

A blinding flash of light engulfed him, and when it faded, Nick found himself on the floor, gasping for breath. Slowly, he pushed himself up, his heart pounding in his chest. Something was different. Something had changed.

As he staggered to his feet, Nick realized that he was no longer in his own body. Looking down at himself, he saw tan skin where there used to be pale, muscular arms where there used to be slender ones, and a thick layer of hair covering his chest and arms.

Panic set in as Nick struggled to comprehend what had happened to him. Had he somehow been possessed? Had he gone insane? But then he remembered the boots. The boots that had sparked this transformation.

With trembling hands, Nick stumbled to the nearest mirror. What he saw staring back at him was a stranger - a rugged, muscular man with piercing eyes and a confident stance. He was dressed in leather pants and a matching vest, a chain around his neck adding to his mysterious aura.

Nick reached up to touch his face, feeling the rough stubble beneath his fingers. It was then that he realized the truth. Somehow, the boots had granted him a new identity, a new body, a new life.

A story about Bodysuits, Secret Agents and once in a lifetime chance. Feel free to suggest where the story should go next and the photos of hunky dudes that should accompany it 😁 I was sitting at home tucked away in my bedroom. Like every day after work I would come back, kick my boots off and take off the motorbike jacket. Hang away the helmet making sure it can dry up, cause no one like when the helmet gets too smelly. Then I’d take the pants off, heat myself a meal, head to the bedroom and would eat while watching some brainless Netflix show on my tablet.

While watching the show I’ve heard some commotion outside. I live in New York with my bedroom windows looking out into a back alley between two apartment buildings. From the 3rd floor I can still hear what’s happening outside, but fortunately I also get some sunlight and the noise isn’t as terrible as it would be somewhere lower down.

While I’ve looked outside I’ve noticed a well-built, dark haired guy who seemed like he was looking for something, or maybe rather someone. I’ve hid behind the curtain and continued looking. It doesn’t happen often to see a handsome dude in this area. And another biker too. He was holding his helmet in one hand and a duffel bag in another.

While still looking around, he continued walking down the back alley. He must have been walking towards his Ducati which was parked further down the road. To my surprise he stopped along the dumpster bins and threw in the big bag he was holding. I was already wondering how was he planning on taking that on the bike, but this solved that problem. It created another though. Why would he throw away a completely new bag full of stuff? I felt like I needed to investigate it.

I waited for him to mount the motorbike and ride away. I rushed downstairs to see what was in the bag he threw. Once I reached the bins I opened the one where the bag was supposed to be. And there it was, on top of some office papers and other recyclables. Too curious to not check I’ve unzipped the bag and got startled immediately. From the inside there was a handsome face staring at me with the eye sockets completely hollow… on one hand I was terrified, my heart was racing and I started sweating. On another though I got too curious to not look into this deeper I also felt something more that I couldn’t identify yet at that time. I zipped the bag back and rushed all the way to my apartment. It was heavy, almost as heavy as if there was an entire person folded inside….

As I was climbing the stairs my heart was racing. I’ve started to slowly realize what could this thing in the bag be and I felt my crotch starting to swell up. I’ve only seen things like that in movies and now it seems like I was in luck to find one of my own right below my block. I’ve finally reached my apartment, locked the door behind me and went into my room. I threw the duffle bag onto the bed and started staring at it for a good few seconds. I was wondering what was this all about and why did that dude throw away something so valuable.

I decided it’s now or never. I approached the bag and slowly unzipped it. Inside of it was what could only be described as a bodysuit resembling human skin… at this point I wasn’t terrified anymore, instead I was extremely aroused. The skin suit was of a hunky Mediterranean looking guy, with a chiseled strong featured face. His body was ripped and the muscles big. The suit seemed to be slightly thicker than expected and was retaining all the shapes really well. Upon touching the face a bit of air escaped trough the open mouth, nostrils and eyes, the smell was musky but also there was something chemical to it. Reminded me of glue in some ways. The skin was soft, and was bouncing a bit under my fingers touch. The closest material I’ve known that could resemble this was silicone, but this was something else. Softer and more resembling real skin than anything I’ve ever seen.

My dock was definitely enjoying all this as it was has as rock. I laid the suit down on the bed. It seemed to be exactly my height which I considered good luck. The guy definitely had a better physique than I did. I couldn’t wait to become that guy, as I instinctively knew what this bodysuit is for, but upon closer inspection I couldn’t find any zipper or anything that would allow me to enter it. I started looking for any hints inside the bag. Beside of the suit I’ve also found blue contact lenses and dentures which would give me a Hollywood smile. There was also a great looking gray suit, some really nice suede Chelsea boots. A wallet, with all ID’s issued to Chase Warrington, a smartphone, car keys and house keys. Seemed to me like there is a whole life hidden inside this bag but I still didn’t know why, and what for.

When I turned around to go and look at the suit again I’ve heard more noises outside. There was another guy walking out from the same exit. He was similarly built as the previous one except that this guy was blond and maybe a bit taller. He went straight to the bin, opened it froze when he didn’t see there what he was looking for. He started frantically searching the bin but the bag wasn’t there. As he started looking around I quickly hid behind the curtain and continued looking to make sure he leaves.

It was obvious now that the other guy left the bag for this one to pick up. It seems like they were onto something but I’ve foiled their plans. I suddenly started thinking that I might have pulled myself into some shady business and my stomach squeezed in stress. The guy outside took out his phone and started calling someone. He was yelling and gesticulating, after which he angrily hang up and rushed out of the alley. After waiting a bit more to make sure he isn’t coming back I turned around to face the bed.

I had a quick glance to see if I wasn’t maybe hallucinating it all but Chase was still there , waiting for me patiently. My hardon was instantly back as I got closer to the suit. With no more insights on how to put it on I started exploring it more vigorously. The only opening large enough to do anything was the mouth. I tried stretching it and it opened up significantly. I slid my hand into the suit and it was all covered with what seemed like a mix of sweat and slimy like glue. I sniffed what got captured on my hand and the smell was intense but not unpleasant, the suit was still slightly warmer than the ambient temperature so something told me it must have been worn quite recently.

I knew what I needed to do. Without further hesitation I took my clothes of, sat on the bed and put the bodysuit in front of me. I’ve stretched the mouth and put my feet in. The slimy substance inside made it easy to slide them all the way to Chase’s feet. I’ve adjusted my toes to go right into his and wiggled them to test the movement. The suit was still sliding against my skin, and it felt so good to know that I’m slowly disappearing inside this hunky guy.

I’ve pulled the suit up and got my legs fully in. Next to go in will be my cock and ass. Chase definitely didn’t skip any leg days and his quads, calves and ass looked extra perky. His cock was also a thing worth looking at. I’ve never been unhappy with mine, at 8 inches it was more than enough to give pleasure to anyone, but Chase’s was something else. At least 10 inches and extra thick, it felt like holding a pipe. Both the sheath and the balls were hollow inside and just waiting for my cock to invade them. I slowly slid it in feeling how well lubed up it is inside. My cock filled it out perfectly, almost as if the inside was based on a cast of my own.

I grabbed my new rocket and started throbbing it up and down. It seemed like there were some additional groves inside that kept my dick perfectly positioned but also provided additional pleasure. The whole experience was so arousing that I didn’t notice one significant change. I wasn’t able to move Chase’s skin against mine anymore. The glue started working its way and it sealed my legs completely inside of the bodysuit. I’ve looked back into the bag to see if there is any instruction available or any solvent that would allow me to later take it off but there was nothing.

Thinking what I should do, I decided to go ahead with putting the suit on and worry about the consequences later. This was my dream opportunity and I wasn’t going to spoil it by overthinking.

I continued pulling the suit up, the musky smell embracing me with each pull. My dick still extra hard was demanding some more attention. I knew though that this will be more fun after I complete the transformation. I started pushing my arms in, filling his every finger with mine, warm air escaping as I pushed further in. His hands were also bigger than mine, but it felt so natural to have them. The suit was heavy when I was holding it before, but now that it was embracing me and matching my every move I could barely feel its weight. The movement of the suit felt even more natural now, that the glue started setting in. I could feel the outline of all the muscles with my new hands.

I’ve looked at myself in the mirror and what I saw was like if all my wet dreams have combined into one and stood right there in front of me. Except it wasn’t someone else. It was me moving this Greek god-like body. The only thing that wasn’t matching yet was the face. I couldn’t complain about mine, I was attractive enough to be able to get laid with most of the guys I wanted to meet, but I knew that once I take his face on, no one would be able to resist me.

His face was embracing my neck with an unnaturally stretched gin looking like a human face hoodie hanging behind me. At this point I was so turned on I could blow my load any time. The warmth of the suit felt so natural, I thought that with this thickness I wouldn’t be able to feel anything on the inside, but it seems like this cosmic technology material was passing the feeling of touch much more than expected. I started playing with my monster sized cock again and it felt like I’m about to have the best jerk off of my entire life.

With one hand I continued playing with it while with the other I started sliding the slimy face onto mine. Slowly it was coming onto my head, looking like it’s abut devour me. Chase’s face less and less disfigured he started looking like a real person again. And just then with a final snap the face fell into place and I saw how it fits me almost perfectly, looking out his eyes I didn’t see myself anymore, I continued throbbing my cock being on the verge of climax, with final few adjustments the face felt perfectly aligned and as it started setting and gluing into mine I shot the biggest load of my entire life staining the mirror in front of me.

For a moment I completely zoned out, when I opened my eyes again and looked into the mirror, I couldn’t believe again what I’m seeing. The chiseled face, the body of a young Greek god. I smiled and touched my pecks. The confidence was oozing out of me. Still looking at myself I said:

-Hey there Chase, I think we will have some fun together

And to my surprise it wasn’t my voice that came out. It was deeper and more powerful than mine. The surprise quickly disappeared from my… our face, and a confident smirk appeared. One that someone seemed appropriate and matched this face perfectly. This seemed like a start of something great…

"You really gotta rub the oils in man, or else the suit loosens up." Scott instructed his friend his hands running up and down the firm musculature.

"How'd you even get this suit anyway?" George asked from the doorframe as Scott glanced back to him.

"I know a guy." He responded with a cocky smirk as he finished rubbing up the body with the oil mixture. "I only told you about it cause I know you'll keep it secret." Scott said as he starts to pull at his mouth which gave way causing George to stand up straight as his friend's head pulled away like a rubber band. Under the blonde hair and blue eyes Scott was actually a thin Latino who never once played sports. He was focused more on games and reading, but with this body he played college baseball and did track all while being one of the most popular guys on campus.

"Listen it's not that bad really." He spoke with a small smirk his arms looking comically huge when compared to the much thinner neck and head of his real body. "I gotta go home and visit my family. Big stuff apparently, and I figured it would be best to tell you about...well...." He motions to his body before pulling himself out of the suit with a few wet squelching sounds. "Probably be pretty scary for you to come home and see your roomie deflated huh?"Scott nudged George who was still stunned, his mouth hung agape as Scott put his suit on the bed.

"So I just keep it here then? Do I like...wash it or something?" George asked sheepishly as Scott shook his head no.

"I showered this morning so it's pretty clean, it fills up with air after a while so it will look like I'm in it just not really." Scott said nonchalantly as he slid on his robe. "Just don't wear it, please. Do whatever you want with my stuff while I'm gone but the suit is off limits." Scott warned as George nodded slowly looking over at the suit.

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning, so just keep things pretty low-key around here okay?" Scott said as he walked back into the bathroom as George slowly went to his bedroom, palming himself as subtlety as he could.

The next day George woke up uncharacteristically late his glasses still on as he groggily sat up fixing them. He checked his phone and saw a few texts from Scott.

TEXT: hey! I'm gone, remember our promise?!

TEXT: ;p

George rolled his eyes at the emoji but nonetheless he planned to honor what Scott told him to. He looked down at his boxers the fabric strained against his morning wood. He looked towards his door and slowly got up, making sure to grab some lube for himself as he walked over to Scott's bedroom. There he laid, well.the body suit at least. Now George wasn't going to try the suit on, but he was gonna fuck it. By this point it had filled up with air, giving the flesh some sizable give to it. Still soft and pliable but otherwise, he was fuckable. George pulled down the shorts and saw the perkiest bubble butt imaginable. Even with nothing filling him out fully Scott's ass was huge and so was his limp dick. George gently stroked the other's cock with unsurprisingly no reaction.

George then took no time to waste and lubed up his dick and used some of the excess on the suit's asshole. It was tight, George knew Scott was straight so he figured even with a suit he didn't go up its ass. He laid the suit on its stomach and pushed his cock head in. It felt like a vacuum suctioning in his cock on impact. George grunted from the feeling he slowly pulled his cock out, watching with wonderment and lust as the hole stretched around his average length. With each thrust it felt like George was getting lost further and further into his lust. His eyes were shut as he pounded away at the pliable ass, his hands gripping tight on the flesh. George felt like with each thrust his cock was going deeper and deeper, his eyes slowly opened up confirming those thoughts but not in the way he thought. His groin had essentially fused with the bodysuit. He could still feel himself inside, his dick throbbing slightly as he tried in vain to sperate the two.

"Oh fuck!" George exclaimed as he pulled and pushed on the suit trying to break free but only doing so kept merging them closer together. George began to moan as he felt his legs sink into the suit he then could feel it wash over him. There was a level of soreness, but one that was from working out not from pain. Looking down George saw Scott's legs and his as one. He looked over to the front Scott's cock and balls were still limp so George thought at this point...

"Fuck it." George was out of his depths but figured that he should go all the way. He continued his grinding into Scott's ass as more of his hips merge and he then soon feels a strong sucking feeling as he feels his cock and balls merge into their new place. Scott's cock comes to life, extending outwards at least 9 inches as George now greedily strokes it with his own hands. It felt foreign to George the sensations his cock was sending him, it wasn't his cock but his hands? It was like his brain struggled to keep up. He then slowly pressed in his chest against the back of Scott's body slowly being claimed by the suit. He arms too soon came under his control as George flexed his new found muscles groaning at the sensation. Veins popping along his arms as he then looked at the blonde head. George quickly pressed his head against it and felt his face give way, it was a tingling sensation as he then opened up his new eyes with a gasp. He could feel his throat tense up as if something slid down it.

"Holy shit." George said with Scott's voice as he rubbed at his new throat. He rubbed up and down the muscles torso and pinched at each muscle feeling as if they were really his own. He slowly stood up and walked towards the mirror Scott used to get dressed in and flexed his new body.

"Hey I'm Scott, and I love feelin cock up my tight jock ass." George spoke as his cock twitched to the suggestion in which his hands gently tugged at the girthy member. He quickly made his way to his room grabbing a dildo and more lube. He propped himself on the bed his phone recording this for a later jerk session. He pressed the dildo into his asshole, gently working open the tight pink hole as he moaned out into the pillow. He kept working the dildo in and out of his hole and strokes his thick cock more and more. His body writhed with pleasure as he brought himself closer and closer to completion, he felt his balls tighten up against his shaft as he erupted a torrent of jizz coating the bed covers. George had never cum as much as he did just now, and he felt like he could go out and do more!

He slowly popped the dildo out with a soft moan as he looked around Scott's clothes. He found his jock and a pair of his baseball socks. He inhaled deeply the scent of the jock, a combination of musk and piss, hell even a soft scent of jizz too filled his nostrils as he slowly pulled them up on his body. He played around with his ass.

"I can't believe that this is real..." George muttered to himself as he stared at his new reflection. He now had decided to make plans to go out, but he would certainly be hitting up places George would never go...but as Scott the world was his.

For what felt like hours of self pleasure George still masked up as Scott let his cock erupt with a stream of jizz. He let himself come down slowly from his high as he laid back on his bad his chest rising and falling slowly, glistening with sweat. He looked around the vacant apartment his eyes a tad hazy from his new experience in this body. Slowly he got up from the bed and sauntered over to the dresser. Inside was a jock strap, slightly discolored with sweat stains and some socks Scott normally used for baseball. He slipped them on, the jock hugged to his form with a snug snap of the bands as the socks accentuated his muscular yet thick calves. Tonight Scott was going to get railed and he was going to look the part for a jock slut to his fullest extent. 

He slid on a skimpy string tank top that barely his anything, his pecs practically hung out of his shirt as he put on a pair of runner’s shorts. Scott made his way onto the gay club, it was notorious for its loose rules and colorful patronage. Though many would say that was what brought in business. Scott had no trouble getting in with how he looked. Even the bouncer gave him a side glance through his shades. Scoot looked around through the dim haze upon the bodies before him. Bodies on bodies gyrating and grinding to the thick and heavy beats of the club’s music. Scott made his way through the crowd feeling hands rub up on his body and pinch as him as he did, made him chub up considerably. He made his way to the bar and nodded to the barkeep asking for a vodka cran, all the while a brute of a man was staring him down from across the bar. 

The man was big as he was hairy, his eyes piercing through Scott as the other played it coy and winked to him taking a sip of his drink. The big man stood up from his bar stool and sauntered on over to Scott, leaning against the counter as he did so. 

“You are new?” He asked his voice was thick low and deep with a hint of an accent peaking through. His hand reached out gracing the skin on Scott’s face with his knuckles. 

“Very pretty face, I am Tyrus. I run this club.” He explained motioning to the crowd. “Your name?” Tyrus asked as his hand fell to Scott’s side, his gruff calloused hands squeezing slightly as the younger man’s ass.

“I’m Scott, nice to meet you.” Scott tried his best to play easy, as if he wasn’t already tenting up his shorts. Tyrus glanced down then locked eyes with Scott as the man licked his lips as if he was savoring a meal. He pulled away from the man and motioned with his hand. 

“Follow me.” He nodded leading Scott away from the busting music and hot crowd. They traveled upstairs, Scott’s eyes darting around in a curious fashion as he watched the man’s back for a moment, appreciating the tight muscles pushing against the skin. The reached a VIP Room, a one way mirror gave them a full view of the dance floor below them. Tyrus turned around as Scott gazed in awe of the decadence. Tyrus not so subtly unbuttoned his pants his fingers held them up by the belt hooks as he stared at Scott who had locked eyes on him. 

Scott knelt down on his knees and pulled his pants down revealing the monster that hung between Tyrus’ legs. Starting at his base, a thick vein snaked its way upwards through his hairy bushel of pubes tapering off at his uncut foreskin. Scott tentatively licked at the hood and then quickly took it in his mouth, his jaw already feeling the pressure from such a thick and long cock. Tyrus hummed in appreciation, his hand gently rubbing through the curly blonde hair as he began thrusting his hips, his huge hairy balls swaying and smacking against the other man’s chin. It didn’t take long for Tyrus to start mouth fucking Scott, Scott did his best relaxing his throat, the man’s massive size was something Scott was unprepared for, the wet squelching noises echoed against the man’s groin. Scott tried looking up but his vision was dimming, he felt heavier than normal as if he was sagging down. He pulled off with a gasp his hands went to his mouth noticing that it was not where it should be. 

Tyrus began to chuckle lowly as he stroked his cock slowly watching Scott fumble with his sagging suit. “I knew my work was convincing, but you probably disregarded the instructions.” The giant man came forward and pulled the face part of Scott away revealing George underneath who looked frightened and stammered his way through his explanation.

“No worries, I was the one who made these suits.” Tyrus smiled wide, his smile was reassuring but also mischievous. “I take it you weren’t the one who bought this suit hmm?” He reached down grabbing the still firm cock in the suit stroking it gently. 

“Yeah…” George muttered as Tyrus nodded slowly as he looked over to the bar. “There are other options for you. Not just the suit, if you want to enhance your own self…?” He asked with a strong hum to his voice as George looked to the bar and then down to the loosening suit.  

“This is my friend’s suit. I need to return it to him before he gets home.” Tyrus nodded reaching over his hand seamlessly stretching on till he grabbed a small pair of black pills. 

“Shhhhh.” Tyrus instructed George as he had the pill pushed into his mouth, Tyrus’ hand gripped the throat slowly forcing the other to swallow the pill. As the pill slid down George’s throat he could feel the effects wash over him like a wave. His body began to heat up, glistening with sweat as his breathing became heavier. It felt like his muscles were burning up, he looked down to his chest and watched as his chest began to bubble and bounce, jiggle with each second pressing against the body suit stretching it out further and further. The same process kept happening through his entire body. His ass became huge and plump with plenty of muscle and fat giving him the perfect bubble butt. His legs exploded out stretching farther along the suit capabilities, his bones in his feet cracked and popped stretching out his toes even further with a short wiggle. Then George moaned out as he felt his dick snake its way back into the suit’s sleeve. This time however his dick kept going longer and longer achieving a length he could only dream of and a thickness rivaling that of a pop can. There was a wet squelching noise as George’s body flexed, he moaned out as the suit then started to push him out, his sweat acting as a natural lube.  As George found himself free of the grasp of Tyrus and the suit he stood up, wobbling as he adjusted to his new size. He panted deeply as he stared over at the burly man who looked over the suit with a smirk.  “Take this back to your friend, I think you’ll like the outcome…”

Author’s Note

Body a day - #23: Want

Stefan had been on the run for three days, he was wanted, and it was beginning to tear on him - always being on guard, always keep moving, always trying to stay three moves ahead. When he received a phone call from his companion, Filip, he began to feel hopeful. After a few minutes of talking, Filip asked him; ”do you trust me?”

- “Yes,” Stefan replied tonelessly.

- “Okay, then meet me at the old brickworks tomorrow morning. Until then, keep a low profile.”

- “What do you think I’ve been doing?” Stefan snarled only to discover that Filip already hung up. The old brickworks was located several towns over, but Stefan knew where it was, it closed years ago, the buildings and ground abandoned and falling into disrepair. A good hiding spot, if a tad obvious. Nevertheless he needed to make his way there, unseen.

It was a cold night, but Stefan survived, he just had to wait till daybreak, then hopefully Filip would come to his aid. As dawn broke, Stefan began to scout from his hiding spot every now and then, he just needed Filip to turn up. He wouldn’t risk calling him again, all he could do was wait.

In the distance Stefan heard an engine or possibly two approaching the quiet grounds. Then the noise disappeared, he assumed that was Filip, who had come to his rescue. From his cover Stefan tried to scout to see, who had come to this dump. But it wasn’t Filip.

It was a police officer, and he was looking directly at Stefan. Stefan froze, he couldn’t move, he realised that Filip had betrayed him, handed him over to the police. The police officer approached him, Stefan got up not breaking eye-contact. Now was the ’fight-or-flight’-moment, but before even considering his options, the officer stood only a few meters from him and had taken off his helmet, and with a firm voice he said: “You are under arrest, we have the area surrounded. You might as well come along willingly.” This was the end.

The police officer then burst into laughter, and Stefan was as confused as he was dumbstruck. “Stefan, it’s me, Filip,” the officer laughed at Stefan’s shocked face. “Filip? But how-” before Stefan could finish the sentence, the officer raised his hand to his head. With the hand he pushed his forehead backwards causing the officer’s face to distort as his mouth widened grotesquely as another head emerged from the gaping maw.

”It really is you?!” Stefan exclaimed, he was astonished, seeing him here, in a genuine police uniform and what appeared to be an ultra-realistic mask flopping around his neck.

“Sure is,” Filip grinned, enjoying the look of utter disbelief on Stefan’s face, “but when I’m wearing this, I go by the name of Officer Marcel Kowalski.”

“I have a colleague, who is very eager to meet you, waiting outside,” Filip continued, smirking and winked as they walked towards the road.

“You got a disguise for me too?” Stefan asked, believing he had guessed what Filip meant with that remark.

“Of course, I told you to trust me, I originally thought of giving you Kowalski here, but then I decided to make another for you.”

Make another? Stefan wondered.

“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later. Right now we got to go back to the station,” Filip said and pulled Kowalski’s face back over his own, bringing the officer back to life.

“The station!?” Stefan exclaimed.

“Calm down, nobody is going to recognise you, not when you’re Officer Tomasz Kubik,” ‘Kowalski’ explained with his authoritative voice. Once outside the brickworks, ‘Kowalski’ pointed towards two police motorcycles parked by the road.

There was another police officer, or at least something, that used to be one. Tomasz Kubik laid across his motorcycle like a deflated balloon, his head seemingly squashed under the weight of the helmet. Stefan looked from Kowalski to the skinned man on the motorcycle with undeniable fascination.

- “So you want me to become a cop?”

- “For the time being... You know you want this.”

Stefan couldn’t deny he was excited, actually very eager.

”I think he’s about your size, he's going to look good on you,” said Filip, pulling off the ex-officer’s helmet and holding up the amorphous head for Stefan to see. It was just a lifeless mask now, with empty eye-sockets and floppy facial features. Together they began to undress the officer, then Stefan dragged him into the bushes and began pulling on the skin. It was warm and squishy inside, but still very tight. Slowly and steadily, Stefan managed to wiggle into Kubik’s body. As Stefan’s body fitted into the officer’s body, he could feel the suit bind to his skin, becoming alive again. “I’m done,” Stefan called out from the bushes, when he had successfully pulled on the entirety of Kubik’s skin, but the head.

Filip/Kowalski nodded satisfyingly; “go on then, put on the face.” Stefan grabbed the edges of Kubik’s mouth around his neck, then with one final stretch, he let Kubik’s face swallow him, pushing the face into place, before opening his eyes, for the first time seeing the world as Officer Tomasz Kubik.

- “I could get used to this,” Stefan said with his new and unfamiliar voice.

- “Good, then it wasn’t a complete waste of time then. Let’s get you back in your uniform, Tomasz.”

‘Kowalski’ threw some of Kubik’s clothes to his friend, then he walked over to the pile of Stefan’s discarded clothes, emptying the pockets, folding them neatly, before igniting them with a lighter. Stefan saw his old clothes and life burn, but he didn’t care, he wanted this more.

With great enthusiasm Stefan began to pull on Kubik’s uniform, he couldn’t believe how much he wanted this. He pulled on Kubik’s leather pants, threw on his thick police leather jacket, and stepped into the officer's heavy motorcycle boots and secured his belt around his waist. It was a perfect fit. Stefan was now Officer Tomasz Kubik and Filip, Officer Marcel Kowalski.

Kowalski disposed of the remains of the burnt clothes, whilst the new Kubik admired his face on his motorcycle’s side-view mirror. He certainly looked good in uniform. Kowalski returned and the two leather-clad ’officers’ mounted their bikes.

”Remember, we are law-abiding citizens for the time being.” said 'officer Kowalski' jokingly.

”Actually we are law-enforcing citizens,” 'officer Kubik' replied with a devilish grin.

Hiding right under the police’s nose might be his best option for now, it might even be fun, but one thing was for sure, Stefan didn’t mind having ’police on his back’ for the time being.