I finally clocked out at 8 PM. Another eleven-hour soul-crushing workday. My back was screaming, my eyes felt like sandpaper, but my dick had been half-hard since lunch. All I could think about was getting home, collapsing onto my shitty mattress, unzipping my work pants, and stroking myself stupid.
It was the only thing in my life I actually looked forward to anymore.
The bus was packed with the same dead-eyed zombies as always. I wedged myself against a pole, phone held low, and opened my secret Tumblr feed. I scrolled past thick chests, veiny arms, and arrogant smirks, my cock twitching against my thigh with every new image. The guy next to me smelled like cheap cologne and defeat.
God, I’m so fucking done with this.
I didn’t want to just live like this anymore. I want to be rich. To wake up whenever I wanted and jerk off all day in some massive bed if I felt like it.
Fuck that — why stop at rich?
I want to be hot. Huge. Powerful. The kind of man people drooled over. The kind who took up space and made others feel small.
My thumb kept moving, heart beating faster, when a GIF suddenly loaded.
Holy shit.
I turned the phone off like a secret nobody else could watch
=============
The second I stepped inside my tiny room, I started stripping. Shirt, pants, boxers — my daily ritual. But tonight my heart was pounding harder than usual. I knew what I had waiting on that screen.
I didn’t even make it to the bed. My cock was already throbbing as I wrapped my hand around it, slowly stroking while I was still standing. In my head I kept replaying that GIF on loop: his perfect body, that cocky smirk, the way his hands gripped those legs like he owned every inch of anyone beneath him.
His beauty. His roughness. His raw fucking power.
I grabbed my phone again and opened my little secret.
There he was — even better than my imagination. The man I want to be. The man I deserve to be. Just pixels on a cracked screen… yet I could already feel his magic pulling at me, like the universe was daring me to want it harder.
I stroked faster, eyes locked on a loop showcasing his power, my breath getting ragged. “Fuck… I wish that was me…”
The screen flashed.
==============
For a split second everything vanished — my shitty room, the phone in my hand, the familiar weight of my own cock.
Then the world slammed back in.
I wasn’t laying down anymore. I was on my knees, powerful thighs spread wide, muscles burning with effort. My hands — no, his hands — were gripping two smooth, trembling legs, folding them back hard against a slender chest in a deep mating press. My hips were driving forward on pure instinct, slamming a thick, heavy cock into a tight, twitching hole.
What the fuck—?!
Panic exploded in my chest. This wasn’t my body. This body was huge — broad shoulders, thick slabs of muscle, veins popping along my forearms as I held the twink’s legs open. My cock felt monstrous inside him, stretching him wide with every thrust. I could feel the heat, the insane tightness gripping me, the way his walls fluttered and clenched.
Below me, a cute, flushed twink stared up with wide, watery eyes, mouth open in a silent moan. His smaller cock leaked against his stomach as I drove into him again. I didn’t know him. I’d never seen him before. But this body knew exactly what it was doing.
“F-fuck—” I gasped, my voice deep and rough, nothing like mine.
I tried to stop, but the hips kept moving — powerful, relentless thrusts that made wet, obscene sounds every time I bottomed out. Pleasure rolled through me like a drug. Every stroke felt better than the last. My new cock was so much bigger, so much more sensitive. I could feel his hole milking me, greedy and hot.
The smell of sex was thick in the air — sweat, lube, and raw musk. I could taste salt on my lips. My new heart was pounding hard in my wide chest.
This isn’t real. This can’t be happening.
But it was. I was him. The man from the GIF. Rich. Hot. Powerful. And right now I was balls-deep in a twink, wrecking him.
My panic started to melt as another hard thrust made him cry out. A low, feral groan left my throat. My hands tightened on his legs, pushing them further back, folding him in half. The motion felt… natural. Like the body was teaching me what it wanted.
I could feel every inch of this new body coming alive under my control. The burn in my powerful thighs as I drove forward. The flex of rock-hard abs with every thrust. The heavy swing of my massive balls slapping against his ass. My thick cock throbbed inside him, so much more sensitive than anything I’d ever felt — every ridge and vein dragging along his tight walls sent sparks up my spine.
“Shit… so fucking tight,” I muttered, voice thick with lust. My hips snapped forward harder, chasing that mind-numbing pleasure. I looked down at my massive chest, sweat glistening on carved pecs, the way my abs flexed powerfully with every thrust, the thick cock disappearing into his stretched, pink hole.
This body was responding to me more and more. My fingers dug deeper into his soft thighs, feeling the strength in my grip. I could hear the wet, filthy sound of my cock pounding into him echoing in the luxurious bedroom. The twink’s desperate little whimpers were like music.
Slowly, I started to control the rhythm. No longer just being carried by instinct — I was steering it. I pulled back until just the fat head of my cock stretched his hole, then slammed back in with a powerful roll of my hips, savoring every sensation.
This was mine now.
I leaned in closer, pinning him completely, and let the body take over even more. The panic was still there, flickering at the edges… but it was getting quieter with every deep, claiming stroke.
Then the memories slammed into me all at once.
One second I was panicking — the next, everything clicked.
I am Yoshi.
37, world famous actor, owner of a sleek penthouse overlooking the city, a supercar, and more money than most people could spend in three lifetimes. Respected. Feared. Desired.
And married.
A beautiful wife was out right now — elegant, high-society, none the wiser. She thought I was “working from home” again. I saw her face in the painting next to me and memories flood: smiling at charity galas on my arm, kissing me goodbye in the morning, completely oblivious to the fact that her husband regularly destroyed tight little twinks like this one in her own bed.
A low, possessive growl escaped my throat as another memory locked in. This no-name twink was just another stress relief. An eager hole I used whenever I needed to remind myself I could take whatever the fuck I wanted.
“Fuck…” I breathed, voice deep and commanding. My hips snapped forward harder, driving my massive cock balls-deep into him. The memories made everything hotter. I wasn’t just fucking him — I was cheating. I was the rich alpha who had it all and still took more.
The twink moaned loudly beneath me, his smaller cock leaking all over his stomach as I folded him in half. My new body knew exactly how to wreck him — brutal, confident strokes that made his eyes roll back.
I grinned, sweat dripping down my carved abs. “That’s it. Take my cock like a good boy.”
The words felt natural now. The old me was already dissolving, buried under waves of power, money, and pure sexual dominance. I had a wife at home… and right now I was balls-deep in a secret twink, stretching him open like he was made for it.
I slammed in again, groaning at how incredible my thick cock felt. Bigger than anything I’d ever had before. Veiny. Heavy. Perfect.
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Jamie was a gamer who had a million followers. One night, Jamie found a magic lamp on my way home from a late night grocery shopping and took it home. Thinking it was just a joke, he playfully rubbed the lamp.
Jamie became shocked when smoke came out from the lamp and a genie appeared in front of me. "Hello, master. You have released me from the lamp and I am now in your debt, where I'll grant you three wishes."
"Wait what? Why just three?" Jamie, confused, asked. He says, "It has always been the rules of nature, master. What do you wish for, master?"
Immediately, an idea came to mind. "I might have an idea. But I need to put you back inside the lamp first."
An hour later...
Jamie arrived in front of his bully, Suj's apartment. When he looked through Suj's apartment window on the first floor, he was only in his shorts that shows his huge bulge in the bathroom taking selfies, giving him a slight hard on.
Suj was Jamie's bully in high school and had tortured him. He was the stereotypical jock who's popular with the girls. He had made his life a living hell after he found out Jamie was gay. Even then, he had a huge ass crush on him until now.
Then one Jamie snuck inside his apartment, he took out the lamp, rubbed it and commanded the genie.
"Genie I wish you free from this lamp and for you to pull his soul out from his own body and destroy it."
"Wish granted master," the genie answered, and then flew over to where Suj's bathroom is.
When Suj saw the genie, he was only able to scream out, "What the fuck?!!" before the genie made his soul, in bead form, to travel up his throat.
Suj tried hard to fight hard to prevent his soul from leaving his body, but Jamie, taking the opportunity, immediately went inside and jacked him off, thinking it would work and it did.
Turns out it was quicker as he opened his mouth from the jacking off to moan and his soul ended up flying out of his mouth, causing Suj's body to fall to the ground.
The moment the soul left his body, it exploded, effectively killing the real Suj.
Then, Jamie put him on the sofa all naked and his underwear still down from Jami jacking him off and said to the genie, "Genie for my final wish I want you to possess him and I will help you to live your brand new lease on life."
"Granted." The genie then turned into smoke with his magic and flew into Suj's mouth, causing it to convulse violently. He lulled his head back on the pillows as I can see the genie travel through Suj's body, and he arched his back too and cum flew out of his cock due to the forced entry.
Seeing this I was incredibly turned on, both by his hot ass and muscles, but also by the scene playing out before me.
A few minutes later, the genie, now Suj, lifted his arms to touch his new body. "Thank you, master. You're truly my savior for freeing me from the lamp."
"No matter, now--" Suddenly, the genie walked towards me and held me tight. "What the-? What are you--?"
The genie suddenly gave an evil grin. "Hehehe... thank you human... thanks to you, I'm now free to take over the world..." He then used his magic to snap Jamie's neck, killing him.
"Stupid human... you probably shouldn't take a lamp home without caution hahahaha... Well I've got to thank you, Jamie, for giving me this body."
He then used magic to control Jamie's body with a small piece of himself, splitting his soul in two and throws it into Jamie's body, giving him full control of two bodies.
He then took off Jamie's clothes and pushed him into the same sofa. "Well now then, 'Jamie'... why don't we fuck before we take over the world hehehe..."
What followed was a night of fucking as the genie, now in control of both men, made plans to take over everyone in the building and their friends with their memories.
Hello, we are A.J., one of the employees of the Mystic Shop. Today, I will introduce a place where we often carry out our operations. Somewhere in the world lies a beautiful natural forest that attracts countless tourists. But little do they know, hidden within that forest are creatures capable of possessing and controlling human bodies.
The creatures living in that forest are driven by instinct to take over the bodies of whatever beings appear the strongest and most impressive at that moment. Their primary targets are human males. Why not give an example?
(We have even captured, trained, and sold many of them ourselves. Also, a certain kind of energy within that forest greatly strengthens the process of possession and other supernatural abilities there.)
Start with this case: did you know that for hiking enthusiasts, a face mask is a staple? But little did they know, a unique forest leech was hiding within that very mask. The moment they covered their mouth, it lunged in, instantly taking over their body. It even grew fond of its new human form.
Wow, so the solution is just to check your face mask thoroughly for anything suspicious, right? Yes, that’s one way to survive—but don't forget, humans have far more entry points than just the mouth."
Take this man, for example—he made sure to check his face mask before putting it on. But sadly, the forest entity’s drive to possess a human body was far stronger than just entering through the mouth. A tiny insect buzzed at high speed and darted straight into his ear. Naturally, he soon grew dizzy, and by the time a good Samaritan rushed to his aid, the entity controlling his body had already taken full command.
Now, let’s shift the scenery a bit. A hike wouldn't be complete without a waterfall, right? And, of course, something is already waiting for you there."
Do you see those white rocks and the cascading water? Of course you don't—because those aren't rocks at all, but white worms with a high refractive index. When submerged, they are practically invisible. And don't worry about the man in the photo; those white worms have squared, specialized mouths designed to bore into human skin. He’s likely already been possessed and is currently enjoying his new body.
Oh, and speaking of trips, you surely wouldn't want to miss out on taking photos. But you really should be careful in this forest; keep your photo sessions brief. Because if you linger too long, you’re just handing over another perfect opportunity for them to take over."
He lingered a bit too long, creating the perfect opportunity for the white worm to dart straight into his ear. He realized what was happening and let out a blood-curdling scream as it burrowed into his brain. It’s a pity he wasn’t strong enough to fight it off. As his body convulsed, a new version of him stood up and continued walking, wearing a sinister grin of victory.
Wow, you think the living creatures in this forest are terrifying and dangerous, don't you? Well, don't you worry, my dear—the things that aren't alive are just as lethal. Yes, I am talking about ghosts
Playtime has its limits. When the man in the photo insisted on trekking through the forest at night, off the designated trails, he was essentially granting the forest spirits permission to use his body however they pleased. This is the final photo he took while still in control, right before a ghost sat down and overlapped with his essence. His body convulsed for a brief moment, then a smile of pure delight appeared—the spirit now ready to spend its time exploring its new vessel.
Furthermore, even the indigenous tribes hiding skillfully within the deep woods—while unable to possess you—can turn you into a leather outfit or a bodysuit. They are particularly fond of solo hikers. Their methods are so chillingly efficient that you’ll surely find our shop’s products far less terrifying by comparison.
It is truly tragic. The man in the photo had come to scout the trail alone, hoping to prepare for his friends arriving in just two days. The tribe saw their chance; they abducted him and turned him into a living bodysuit.
Following that, the tribe member wore the young man's body like a second skin. However, his eagerness to show off this 'new look' started to raise suspicions among the victim's friends—they couldn't understand why he was so obsessed with displaying himself.
Oh, you probably think all of this is terrifying and dangerous, but that it’s fine as long as you just stay out of the forest, right? That everything on the outskirts, in the towns beside the woods or the mountains, is safe? Of course, it’s so safe—the people in the towns next to the forest are incredibly friendly... except for those few who have discovered and mastered the dark arts of possession they brought back from the woods."
Some travelers—like the one in the photo—don't even make it to the forest. He was possessed by a local while he was just stepping into a restroom. Before he could even brace himself, the villager used one of those techniques from the forest and lunged into his body. The man in the photo stumbled backward, desperately trying to fight off the entity invading his skin, but, as always, he stood no chance against the ways of possession. He became just another villager enjoying a 'fresh start.'
And here’s the thing: the 'Will of the Forest' can actually distinguish which bodies are already occupied, so there’s no double-possession. However, fighting over a body that is already possessed still happens from time to time. That’s all I have for you today. See you later, folks...
Ding-ding!
A notification sound chimes. I open the message and a smile spreads across my face.
Wow, we just received a message from one of our lovely customers who just succeeded in a possession on their hiking trip. He’s a guy who was desperate for a hot new life. Let me show you his text."
Thank you so much, the store’s products are of such high quality! This is the body I’m currently inhabiting. I’ve had my eye on him ever since I first saw him in town.
When he went down into the water, I used your product that transformed me into a slime. I blended in with the water, and once I was close enough, I lunged my slime form right toward his crotch. I forced my way into his genitals. He moaned while I was possessing him; it didn't take long for me to completely merge into his body. He seemed to convulse during the takeover, which made a few people nearby concerned, but soon enough, I reached his brain. I had successfully possessed his body in the blink of an eye
"I stood there, showing off my hot new body. Ah... f*ck, this feels so good. I snuck behind a secluded rock, pulled out his thick, heavy member, and indulged myself. It was so hard to stifle my moans so no one else would hear. Soon, it began to tense up, twitching faster and harder. The climax was building, and when I finally hit it, I let out a soft groan behind the rock. I then emerged from behind the stone in my new body, as if nothing had ever happened.
I’ll say it again—this body is absolutely incredible. Your shop's products are outstanding; I'll definitely keep you in mind for the future
I'm on my way back from the trip now, and I’m going to need a memory-extraction potion and a skill-mimicry serum to live this life to its fullest. Please have them ready for me—I’ll pay you handsomely for them.
For now, while I’m on my way back, I’m going to enjoy this handsome face, this hot physique, and this massive c*ck. See you at the shop when I arrive."
.
And that concludes today's extra segment, everyone. I really have to go now—I’ve shared so much information with you today. See you next time... A.J. (Mystic Shop Employee).
Postscript: Hey, it's been a while. I’m not going to make excuses, but I’m going to make them anyway—I haven’t been posting many stories because I’ve been lazy. But it’s not like I wasn't writing; I have been, but most of them only get to about 60-70% finished and then I just don’t feel like finishing them, hehe. Anyway, I’ll try to keep posting stories. I have one or two actual short story projects in the works, so I’ll see how those go. See you in the next story. Bye! 🫡
Wally was just finished showering after a night of sex with his boyfriend, Adam and getting ready to post to OnlyFans a selfie he just did in the bathroom when the room suddenly felt cold.
Startled, Wally turned around trying to see where the source is coming from when suddenly he saw the transluscent form of an old man behind him.
Before he can react, the ghost form lunged into his mouth and fought for control. What Wally doesn't know is that the ghost is Elliot, a tenant who had died in his apartment 20 years ago.
Elliot had always haunted the apartment for a long time and possessing people who had lived in his apartment. He had watched Wally for a few days and decided to take over Wally, body and mind.
Wally fell to the floor as he fought Elliot for control. However, due to his experience, Elliot was able to take control of every part of his body slowly, and he can hear Wally whimper as he feels himself getting kicked out of his own body.
Once in full control, Elliot in his new body stretched out his body, feeling out all the sensations. "Damn, son.... your body is so fucking hot!"
He began to touch his new nipples and cock, stroking it until he came. Suddenly, in his head, he can hear Wally screaming to give back his body. Elliot decided to silence him in his mind.
"You're too noisy, boy.... Your body is now mine for me to use hehehehe.... Looks like your boyfriend can be a vessel for my boyfriend too... hehehe."
He then took another selfie with Wally, now his phone to savor the moment before leaving the bathroom.
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CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. All the stories features only adult characters. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.
Haunted: Kiss Me And I Might...
Previously on Haunted: After Benji and the others discovered that the mortal's body had been stolen by a ghost, they became involved in trying to figure out who the imposter was. While Ben and Julian slowly explored their feelings, Tobias found something in the library of the old wing: a book containing notes and other rituals that indicated the theft of Benjamin's body wasn't an isolated act but something premeditated. Inside, Tobias found a stowaway lurking around – Daniel was spying on him. The oldest ghost, suspecting that the former class president and Brady were involved, decided to use his powers to trap the ghost's essence in order to ask him a few questions. Ben wondered what he was feeling for the "stranger" that Julian is to him, while the jock tried to use as much time as he could to his advantage.
Previous part: Haunted - Answers
— This is the last time I'm going to ask, who's inside his body?
— I don't know, damn it! How many times do I have to repeat myself?! – Daniel was trapped inside a barrier created entirely by energy by Tobias. They had chosen Rex's workshops as their "base of operations". Usually, no one went there; they were the perfect hiding place for both the living and the ghosts. However, judging by Daniel's desperate screams and cries – he sounded almost like a parrot – the mission would be difficult.
— You were in the library. The book was with you – Tobias's expression was dark, almost terrifying – Are you still going to say you have nothing to do with it? What do you want? For me to lock you in a jockstrap?
— I don't know anything, you moron!
Benji sat on the floor, his hands clasped together, fidgeting nervously, a pit in his stomach. The commotion around him seemed completely muted as he thought more and more about what had happened a few days ago: Julian's lips against his, his own words whispered – « I love you » – to someone who wasn't Peter, their bodies intertwined. If it had been an only night affair, perhaps he would have felt a little better, but the memories of them cuddled up together, the soft kisses, yearning for something more than just physical affection, his own heart pounding with hope at Julian's teasing, the fruity scent of his hair, and every inch of his body making his legs tremble. What was he doing? He had a boyfriend. Someone was supposed to be "waiting" for him, someone he was in love with, someone he was supposed to feel all these things for. So what was he doing, feeling this hurricane of emotions for someone he couldn't even touch while in his own body?
He kept fidgeting with his fingers, nervous, his lips pressed tightly together, his breath ragged. When the time came to leave, what would he do?
— Are you okay? – Julian asked with a gentle smile, standing beside him.
— Yes, I'm fine, everything's fine – he nodded half-heartedly. The athlete barely noticed, letting out a soft laugh. His gaze shifted to Daniel's interrogation, which resembled a chaotic play, both of them shouting at each other and trying to fight. It wouldn't be long before Tobias lost his patience and intervened, perhaps resorting to his fists. He'd never seen him so... unhinged. Tobias was usually very kind, shy, always reserved. Rex was much more imposing than him, with his punk appearance, his height, and his enormous build. Why then did the skinny, shorter one look like a rabid fighting dog?
He smiled. Lately, everything made him laugh. Still floating in his dreamy cloud, he knew he was being selfish in more ways than one, rejoicing in what had happened to Benji, that he was now trapped in that form, his body being occupied by who knows who. Rex was supposed to be covering that flank, but the imposter was being too convincing to properly follow a trail; and yet, Julian was happy.
Finally, he could be with the guy he loved, without needing to assume another identity to get close. He could be himself, with his own jokes, his own anecdotes, and more than anything, he could touch him. He could feel his hands, his hair, all of him. Was it wrong if… He wanted things to stay this way? What would be the downside? Staying together for all eternity? Like two lovers, just the two of them and no one else. Was he being selfish?
— Jules, about what happened the other day, I… – Benji finally dared to open his lips, the words coming out with difficulty, trembling. He didn't know how to broach the subject at all. He had to inhale and pause; he couldn't feel anything for a stranger, could he? It was a one-night stand – I…
— I'm fed up! – Julian and Ben's tranquility shattered as Tobias broke their own safety distance to grab Daniel by the collar and punch him. The sound was sharp, like a blow to the bone. He raised his hand again and delivered another right hook that connected with his nose. The former student council president's head snapped back like a spring, and as soon as it rebounded forward, he was met with another punch, and another, and another.
Jules jumped up to try and stop Tobias, grabbing him from behind. The guy was flailing wildly, hysterical.
— Let me go! What are you doing?! Do you want Ben to be left without a body?! LET ME GO! – Julian tried to use all his strength to subdue him, but it was like trying to control a tiger. He was furious, continuing to throw punches and kicks at the air, some of which even landed on Daniel, who was on the verge of fainting, with traces of blood on his skin.
Ben slowly approached Daniel to help him, gently laying him down on the ground and cradling him in his arms. Tobias continued to scream, growl, and act uncontrollably.
— You have to calm down, Tobias! That's enough!
— Shut up, Julian! You don't know anything! You don't care about anything! Why are you supporting him?! Whose side are you on?! – Tears streamed down his face, his strength gradually waning, reducing him to a rag doll that writhed with difficulty in the other's arms – W-We have to help him, they can't do that to him.
His sobs rang out, his legs buckled, and Julian pulled him close, hugging him as best he could. A weight settled in his chest as he realized the selfishness of wanting Ben to stay with them. He closed his eyes.
— Ben… We'll go get some fresh air. You stay with Daniel and… Don't let him leave, okay?
Their eyes barely met. Jules looked away guiltily, turning away and letting Tobias crawl to his side, sobbing.
Daniel's body still lay on the workshop floor, battle wounds etched across his face, the taste of rust lingering on his tongue.
— Wow, looks like the old guy knows how to hit – he grunted, trying to sit up. A sharp pain in his stomach made him lean back against Benji's legs again.
— Will you be... okay?
— Ugh, it's not like I can die again, is it? – He chuckled slightly at his own comment, shaking his head – I'll be fine. Ghosts regenerate. I just need a couple of hours and I'll be good. You don't need to keep an eye on me – He grunted, trying to move away, but the pain pulled him down again. Ben watched him with a touch of pity, like a wounded fox, and swallowed hard.
— Why did you have the book?
— I already told you I didn't have anything.
— So what were you doing in the library then? – Daniel's gaze shifted.
— That's none of your business.
— Neither was the fact that you just got your face smashed in and here I am – The ghost's jaw tightened slightly, his eyes narrowed with a hint of suspicion, and Ben thought that at any moment he might explode at him, but instead, he just sighed.
— I was spying, okay? I usually spy like this, on the living or the dead, it's… – He paused for a second, as if hesitating to say what he was about to say or remain silent – It's what I do, I like to blackmail others.
— What?
— Come on, for God's sake, are you deaf? I already told you, I spy on others, I do it all the time. People are careless with things when they think no one is watching. Julian scratches his ass, I saw you pick your nose, Tobias has a secret room under the library, see? It's what I do.
— And... why are you doing that? Did you want to see what Tobias would do so you could tell Brady what's going on with me? – Ben's tone turned somewhat darker, the temperature in the room beginning to drop – Is Brady the one inside my body?
— No! Look, I'm just a gossip. I just like having that feeling of control and... knowing what others are trying so hard to hide, because I... I...
— You what?!
— Because I like being in control? Okay?! – He seemed about to explode, his chest rising and falling. Nervous, he pressed his lips together. He didn't know why he was telling Ben all this, or why he was even speaking at all, but it was as if he couldn't stop the flow of water. Tears began to stream down his face as his voice dwindled to a whisper – My whole life I've lived off my parents, always doing what they wanted, what they had planned for me. I didn't... Shit, why am I telling this to a junior? – A pitiful laugh escaped his lips. Lowering his gaze, he bit his lip as if trying to hold back, to finally be silent.
Ben hadn't spent much time with Daniel; in fact, he seemed like a… minor character who always hovered around Brady like his lackey, a remora hiding behind a great white shark. But he always saw him as imposing, confident, almost arrogant, with the same self-assurance as a president, impeccable, unflappable. So seeing him shattered, his shirt disheveled, crimson stains on his face, his hair disheveled, and his eyes filled with tears, was like watching an ivory statue fall and crumble.
— You can tell me, I wouldn't have to judge you, I… I'm here by your side – Ben smiled, placing his hand on Daniel's shoulder. Daniel looked at him with a mixture of impatience and incomprehension. The thought crossed his mind to silence him, to shove him away and run, but those nerves of steel seemed to fail him once again.
— I didn’t want a career in politics – he murmured – But that’s what paid the most, according to my parents, what would make me someone in life, ha… If only they had known – He shook his head to himself.
— And does control make you…?
— It makes me feel good. It’ll sound cliché, or even far-fetched, but it’s like I finally… have control of everything; not my life, but at least what others do, like having something in my hand and squeezing it however I want – There was a certain wicked glint in his eyes, which vanished into a storm raging in his irises – I couldn’t choose anything about my path, not who I wanted to be, what I was going to study, who I was going to be in institute, in… Nothing – he whispered – I have nothing.
He lowered his head, wiping away a couple of tears.
— Is Brady using you for that too?
— What? No – a look of confusion crossed his face – I know Brayden can be a son of a bitch most of the time, but he's not as bad as he seems, he's just… lost – he murmured – Maybe that's why we're friends.
Ben watched as Daniel looked away.
— Lost?
— He's the youngest, you know? He's only been a ghost for fifteen years, it's very recent; eternity as a ghost is something no one prepares you for, everyone expects something else, paradise, hell, reincarnation, or even that it all ends and you evaporate as quickly as you arrived, but… Do you think this looks like paradise? Never being able to leave, seeing the same hallways over and over, how everyone can leave except you, how you remain trapped day after day, week after week, month after year, decade after decade. He's just someone trying to cope as best he can with what we've been dealt. Not everyone finds a good friend like Tobias.
Daniel finally managed to sit up slowly, leaning his back against the wall, his head throbbing.
— He sure hits hard.
— You can say that again – He chuckled, his gaze somewhat distant – I owe you an apology, Ben.
— What?
— I also supported the idea of making you a bet, you know, the whole… who could mess with you first thing. Zeke completely ruined all that, but that's another story – Ben's expression turned a little more serious. Daniel wasn't very good at talking about his feelings, much less apologizing, but he wasn't stupid either – What I’m trying to say is, I was bored, and I thought it was funny. I was wrong. You didn't owe us anything, or give us the right to treat you like a toy. You didn't choose to have your gift, and maybe if things had turned out differently, you wouldn't be involved in all this.
Ben thought for a moment, then offered a soft smile.
— Thanks.
— Nothing to thank me for – He tried to adjust himself a little to ease the pain, letting out a gasp – And about your possession, I think I can help with that.
— What?
— I spy on everyone, remember? I know where every ghost is, and which ones are nowhere to be found.
— And who's nowhere to be seen, you nosy bastard? – From behind the wall, Julian and Tobias reappeared. Tobias seemed much calmer, though that didn't diminish his passive-aggressive attitude, as if he could snap again at any moment. His gaze settled on both of them. Daniel's profile also narrowed with a certain wariness.
— Relax, both of you. Daniel, he… – Ben's voice trembled with doubt. The trust the other had placed in him could vanish with a single wrong comment – He was just passing by the library. He doesn't know anything about the book. Brady isn't involved either, but he thinks he can help us – Daniel returned his gaze with a calmer, gentler expression, whispering a small "thank you" under his breath.
— I wander around the Institute to kill time most of the time. I usually know what everyone does, their routines, and where they are or will be in the coming days – He stood up carefully, stopping against the wall, and slowly moved forward until he reached a sketch of the facilities – Mr. Ashford never leaves the old wing. I know Rex is here in the workshop most of the time. Your nerdy friend is probably hanging around the library. I saw Brady before someone locked me in a shoe; he was heading to the gym. The only two people I haven’t seen, and who aren’t in the room, are Zeke and Marco.
Julian’s heart sank a little at the possibility that his best friend was behind it all. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but Marco had too many loose ends: a career in Hollywood, talent that had been taken from him. Why wouldn’t he want to get back in the game in all its glory?
— Zeke would be too impulsive with his body – Tobias murmured coldly – Marco wouldn’t do that, so why should we believe you?
— Why would I lie to you? – Ben tried to think of something; the words had evaporated from Julian’s mind, and he felt his stomach clench.
— We can’t let him go. We have to keep him trapped here – Tobias said – If he’s lying, he’ll go to Brady and tell him, or maybe to the imposter, and it will all be for nothing. We have to act fast before summer vacation; time is running out, and we can’t afford to leave any loose ends.
— That’s a bit extreme, Toby. We can’t keep him here. It’s not fair to him – Julian murmured, his head throbbing. He knew Tobias was partly right, but he didn’t want to resort to such a desperate measure.
— Do it – Daniel said, returning to his “circle of containment”, sitting down, still bruised – I only have one condition.
— We won’t deal with threats.
— What do you want?
— My phone.
— You have a… cell phone?
— Yes, I got it a couple of months ago. It's not so heavy that I can't use it, and it's… fun. It's the only way I have to get out of here, even if it's just for a little while. It's all I care about. You can keep me here as long as you want, but I want my phone.
— No, absolutely not. Do you think we're stupid? It's obvious you can tell someone. What's the point of having you here then?
— It's my condition. I'll stay here if you bring me my phone. Without it, there's no deal.
Ben's gaze shifted back to Daniel, to his disheveled hair, his downcast face, as docile as a defenseless creature. He understood why the others distrusted him. Even part of him didn't quite believe everything Daniel had just said, but if only…
— Give him the phone.
— What? Ben, have you lost your mind?!
— No, but we don't gain anything by having him here. He already said his phone is the only way he can escape from here. You, more than anyone, should know how that feels – Tobias clenched his fists, letting out a sigh.
— Fine, I'll go get it. Where's that thing of yours?
— It's in the library, between the politics and law books. Bring the charger too. I wanted to finish watching a series.
The ghost grunted, slid his hand along the floor to recreate the energy cell, and turned to reluctantly exit through the wall. Daniel slid his back gently against the wall, closing his eyes and resting for a while.
— Ben, about earlier… – Jules murmured.
— Yes, we still need to talk about it – he whispered, lowering his head. The pressure in his chest returned – Maybe we need a more private place – The athlete nodded, heading towards the exit. The mortal followed him slowly, glancing back to see Daniel still there, huddled together. Ben returned for just a moment.
— I know Tobias can be a pain sometimes, but you should try to be his friend. Maybe you have more in common than you think. Eternity is a long road, so why not try to make it easier for everyone?
Daniel opened one eye and settled back down as if he hadn't heard anything. Ben gave a half-smile; at least he'd tried. As soon as they both left, Daniel settled back down, waiting until Tobias returned.
— How are you supposed to use this?
— Come on, I'll show you. Do you want to listen to music?
— Can it be classical music?
— Don't go overboard.
Ben and Julian walked through the campus greens. Night had fallen, and the air felt cold with the moon shining down on them. Ben's hands were in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the grass. Julian seemed unsure where to put his own.
They walked in complete silence to the art studios. Because of the time and the distance, they were completely deserted, barely illuminated by the windows. Ben sat down on a stool, and Julian sat next to him.
— About what happened, I…
— What happened was a mistake, Jules – he murmured, his gaze drooping – I… I have a boyfriend, Julian. And I can't be playing this game when he's not here. We can't let this happen again. Do you understand?
Julian's heart broke. He understood Benji's reasoning completely, but at the same time, what should he do? The Peter he missed so much, the one to whom he swore eternal loyalty, was none other than himself. If Ben were alive again at that very moment, Peter would greet him with indifference, only using him as a friend when it suited him. He wouldn't give him the time of day in a million years. Marco's advice burned him like ice, so trapped in the web of his lies that even now they were crushing him.
— But… Wait – he tried to murmur. Ben stood up, shaking his head.
— I'm sorry, Jules, but I can't. Perhaps the best thing would be… to take some time apart, and I can't guarantee we can be friends. I can't do that to him, I'm sorry.
Ben was about to take a step forward when the ghost grabbed his hand tightly, causing him to lose his balance and fall backward, right where Julian was. He tried to catch him, but it was as if the mortal's body had become intangible, and he was immediately sucked into Jules.
He gasped in confusion, unable to say anything before spasms began to wrack him. His eyes rolled back, his back twisted backward, and his mouth opened as his fingers twitched.
— Ugh… ugh… – Short, gasping sounds were all that escaped his throat. His legs buckled as he felt something surge within him, like a whirlwind swirling in his stomach, rising through his chest and unleashed in his head. His consciousness was pushed back into the driver's seat before he finally succumbed. His body stopped moving, his lips slowly closing, as did his eyes, and he fell “asleep” against the table.
What could have been five minutes or an hour passed before he gasped for air, waking up.
— G-God, what was that? – he murmured, confused, looking around. He tried to get up, but the weight of his legs held him back, sending him crashing to the floor – Damn it… – he groaned, his eyes widening in shock. The athlete got up as best he could, almost having to crawl on the floor. His center of gravity, weight, height: Nothing matched what he was used to. He felt heavier, clumsier; his arms and legs were longer. He approached a mirror in the classroom, perhaps part of some class project, and inhaled nervously, observing his reflection – No way… Shut up…
He whispered, running his fingers against his cheeks, astonished, feeling the smooth skin, the defined cheekbones, the sculpted chin, the face etched with years of athletic practice. He swallowed nervously, running his fingers over his lips, which he hadn't had much time to kiss. Because that wasn't Julian; that was Benji.
— Um… Jules? Are you there? – Ben murmured with a hint of panic, but there was no answer. It was just him and the night, completely alone. He continued to observe his body with complete fascination. Having been in that other athlete's body had been interesting, with its large muscles and all, but this was… very different. Julian also had a sculpted body, with his strong biceps, his pecs, my god, his abs, his chiseled back, he could feel it all. He was fabulous.
Even their heights were different; Jules must have been about 10 or 20 cm taller at most. It felt so good. His cheeks were flushed as he looked at himself. He casually flexed his arms, widening them with a chuckle. His perfect white teeth met those soft lips. His heart pounded. Slowly, "Julian" took off his sports jacket, letting it fall to the ground. He flexed his arms forcefully, admiring the mountains of muscle that formed there, almost mesmerized.
— You're so... perfect – he murmured. The burden of guilt seemed to vanish, and honesty surfaced as if possession were a truth serum or something similar. Those days with Julian by his side had been the most vivid thing he had ever experienced: his laughter, his silly jokes, that smile and gentle gaze he always found behind him, the memories of his kisses drawing him closer, yearning for more. He ran his fingers once more over those velvety lips, the scent of his body, even within someone else's, as if his soul held an essence he couldn't erase from his mind.
Benji slowly approached the mirror, his breathing slow, as if he didn't want to break the spell of the night.
— Jules? – he murmured again, making sure he was alone. No one answered. He moved closer and closer, until he was just inches from his reflection. He brought his lips to the cold surface, trying to kiss him – I... I love you – he whispered shyly, before kissing him again.
Although he wasn't entirely alone, deep within his own subconscious, Jules was watching him like someone watching a romantic movie, eyes twinkling, a silly smile on his face. Could he have answered him all this time? Of course he could have, why didn't he want to? The answer was right in front of him.
Perhaps even without disguises, they could have fallen in love. He so wished he had realized that sooner.
« Kiss me and I might drop dead… »
----
Hey everyone!
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.
I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?
For the past five years, Rizky Santoso had been slowly killing himself at EY’s Jakarta office. As an aspiring professional accountant now in a senior associate position, he lived on Gojek orders, Red Bull, and endless overtime. His soft 98 kg body with its hanging gut and flabby chest is a constant reminder of how far he’d fallen.
Desperate to change, he signed up as a member in Fitness First Senayan City, avoiding the same crowd of his office in Bursa Efek (despite spending most of his times in client office anyway rather than EY Jakarta) which means gym time in Pacific Place, or the not-so-affluent folks at fX, yet still "conveniently" in walking distance that he considered also as cardio. There, he hired a particular eye candy in the name of Bram Wijaya — an-82 kg muscle beast the same age as him and clearly more blessed to dissect daily macros rather than understanding Indonesia's macroeconomic situation.
One Friday night, after another brutal audit shift that finished around 5 AM, Rizky decided to just walk to the gym as by 6 AM, it would be open anyway and by 6:30, Bram would usually arrive. He decided to hit the treadmill while waiting for Bram, when all in a sudden, a burning sensation on his chest and a dizzy spell hit him. The world spun, lights flashed, and when everything settled…
He's staring at Bram’s reflection in the full-length mirror in the locker room, eyes a bit swollen and he seemed to be zoned out before this. Another gymgoer seemingly sat by his side and tried to calm Bram down. Then, the revelation hit him when the guy, a fellow PT he known as Andry, stated
"It's not your fault, Bram. Don't worry. He pushed himself too much, okay? He died, nothing you can do about it. Plus, he did not even contact you for the last one week, chill, you're not at fault here,"
A blurb of memory appeared. He was pronounced dead as he slipped on the treadmill, hit his head and fell to the floor as he got cardiac arrest. Bram just walked into the gym floor when that happened and he tried his best to CPR him but to no avail. Yet.....actually, Bram seemed to be successfully allowing him to live life once more.....and he couldn't help but smirk as his mind instantly raced with possibilities
"Dry....sorry, gue butuh space, I'll hit the shower ya, thanks bro," he said, acting all sorrow asking for space while holding on the increasingly aroused cock inside his shorts
Once the space cleared out and Andry yelling that he left the key for Bram to lock everything up as the gym would be closed for the day, Rizky no longer could help himself as he yanked the shorts down
“Anjing! This is nuts! Fuck, look at that dick!?” he excitedly yelled, voice now deep and smooth.
The body felt unreal. Massive arms, thick and developed chest, shredded abs visible even through fabric. Rizky lifted one hand and watched the veiny forearm of Bram's flex. His new cock was already rock-hard, veiny and looking unreal.
“Tot...…gede banget jing,” he muttered, eyes wide admiring the heftiness of his cock. The crude words slipped out naturally in this new body, like muscle memory. His hand moved on its own, grabbing the heavy bulge as he wondered how lengthy it would go “Fucckkk....ngacengnya berapa centi ini jing??? 15? 20??? Edan!"
The fat, veiny cock slapped against his hard abs. Long, thick, leaking precum like a faucet. Rizky wrapped Bram’s big hand around it and started stroking, fast and greedy.
In the mirror just outside the opened shower, the jacked Indonesian stud's reflection was moaning like a whore — eyebrows furrowed, tongue out, hips bucking. Every stroke felt better than anything his old fat body had ever experienced. Then something strange happened.
With the first thick rope of cum that shot out and splattered the mirror 3-4 metres away like a fucking jet stream much to his chagrin, a flash of memory hit him. Bench press form. How to hit the upper chest. The exact protein intake for cutting. He kept pumping, moaning louder.
“Ahh jing… enak banget!”
Second massive spurt. Another flood of memories
How to deadlift without fucking up his back. The girls who begged for his cock after training sessions. The feeling of pounding tight pussy in the locker room.
More cum kept exploding across the glass — heavy, white streaks running down over his reflection’s face. With every spurt, more of Bram’s mind poured into his.
“NNGGHHHHH BABI! GAK ABIS-ABIS INI PEJUNYA ANJING! Emang sange banget nih Bram sialan,” he growled, stroking even faster through the orgasm.
By the fifth powerful jet, he suddenly knew Bram’s entire training program, his supplement stack, his favorite pre-workout. He knew how it felt to fuck three different clients in one week. He knew the exact dirty talk that made them cum instantly. Then, it hit him
"Gila ya lo Bram? Ngocok begini di gym lagi ditutup padahal ini TKP ada orang mati, tapi otak sange lo gak bisa ditahan, jadi lo malah ngocok. Bener-bener binatang ya lo," Rizky said as he stepped out of the shower, spat on Bram's reflection and licked the dripping saliva, playing on his favorite fetish of degrading others. The idea of Bram just mindlessly masturbating in a literal scene where someone is pronounced dead just mere hours before made his cock rock hard once more. But he's not even over
"Emang pantes lo dihukum Bram. Badan lo ini, tempaan iblis emang, pikiran lo kotor banget dan udah berapa anak harusnya lahir dari perempuan-perempuan yang lo buahin disini? Fuck, gue dikasih badan ini biar gue stop kebiadaban lo, binatang! Gue gak bakal ngehamilin cewek-cewek tolol itu lagi, kontol ini, kontol gue ini akan eksklusif buat cowok-cowok hot yang selalu nganggep remeh gue atau natep gue nyinyir. Yup Bram, it's time for you to face the music, your new driver is hella gay and will be unapologetic about it!" and just like that, his eyes rolled backward as the final thick ropes drained out as he leaned against the mirror, smearing his own load with his palm. His balls felt empty, but his head was full. Bram was no longer straight and having any desire to breed those pussy roster of his ever since that moment. Rizky was dead set on exclusively using the fat, lengthy cock to breed the boipussy clearly lining up on his client roster, and more.
Rizky — now fully merged with Bram — grinned at the cum-covered mirror. The fat, overworked accountant was completely gone. In his place stood a dumb, horny, jacked beast who knew exactly how to use this body.
“Gue udah tau semuanya sekarang,” he laughed, voice low and cocky. His still-hard cock twitched at the thought of all the new possibilities. “Waktunya manfaatin kontol dan badan gila ini.”
He flexed one arm, admiring the peak, then looked down at the mess he’d made.
“Let's see what the future holds ya, but judging from this time, I know it will be one heck of a ride,"
Shout out to my famous oomfie @forthegaze123 🤙🏽🤙🏽😌💅 eyyyy thanks for the idea and request (is it a request?? Idk wkwkwwk) and the hot imagens. Luv yu babe mwah
Ferdyan is a famous gym influencer. His content isn’t just about workouts and lifting heavy. He dives deep into diet, health, grooming routines, and the actual science behind eating clean and picking the right products. I mean… his muscular, aesthetic body says it all, this guy clearly worships and honors his own physique every single day. Plus he was a science major in one of the top universities
Ferdy stood in front of the full length mirror in his sleek apartment gym, his iPhone propped up on the tripod as the camera rolled. His thick, sculpted tits… I mean pecs — flexed naturally with every breath under that expensive compression shirt and those wide shoulders tapering down to a tight waist made him look like a living fitness ad. Sweat from his latest workout still glistened across his golden tan skin
“Alright guys, today we’re talking about why your post workout meal is make or break” he said into the camera “It’s not just about protein. It’s about timing… absorption, and the right supplements… That’s why I also like to combine my meal with this Blackwell supplement“
The way the likes would pour in later, the thirsty comments calling him zaddy awhh 😩, and the DMs begging for private coaching. Ferdyan fed on it. Deep down he knew he wasn’t doing this for “inspiring the community”. He was doing it because their attention made his cock twitch and his bego swell even bigger than his tits — fuck!! — chest
He was a vain, gorgeous narcissist, and he fucking owned it. I mean I would too if I have that face and body
“So yeah, like I was saying, don’t sleep on the right carbs after training, and take this supplement—” His iPhone screen suddenly flickered hard. Bright scorching white lines zigzagged across the display, glitching like it was about to crash….
He frowned, tilting the phone. “The fuck…?” Before he could even tap anything, a new app installed itself in a flash. The screen went bright orangey red. Bold white letters popped up dead center: JUMP BOAT
“What the hell is that…?” the iPhone buzzed violently in his grip. An electric jolt shot straight into his palm
“Hngck!!”
He dropped the phone, his hand tingled like it had been zapped. He snatched it back up, only for a loud, thumping funkot beats to blast from the speakers, LOOOL. Heavy bass, wild percussion, that cheap-ass angkot energy he never listened to in his life
“What the actual fuck is this??!” His nose wrinkling in disgust. This wasn’t his vibe at all… He tried swiping the app closed, hitting the home button, even powering off the screen
Nothing worked….
The red interface stayed locked open
“Nononono!! Not my phone getting hacked!”
Dude, the buzzing? It grew stronger... it traveled up from his fingers and palm, then surging whoosh whoosh whoosh, through his thick forearm. His muscular arm suddenly tensed on its own
“Agggh!! What the hell!!”
Ferdy’s eyes widening. The electric sensation intensified… spreading like a fire under his skin. It felt weirdly good in a uhmmm 😜 way also, but it’s making his bicep twitch and swell slightly with every pulse…
“Fuck!! Stop!! Ughhh—“
His nipples stiffened against the cool air as the buzzing crept higher toward his broad shoulder. He tried to let go again but his fingers wouldn’t obey... it persisted like a bitch. The funkot music throbbed louderrrr, as the rhythm of the vibrations now racing through his body
[JUMP BOAT ACTIVATED]
[Target locked]
[Preparing transfer… 1%]
“Transfer? The fuck does that mean??!!”
His confusion rapidly flipping into anger. He was used to being in control, his body, his content, his audience. But this?? This was violating! (Heh, he deserved it tho 😈)
Then… another violent surge hit him. This time it shot straight down his spine CRAAAACKKK!! BZZZZTT—!!
His powerful back muscles seized up, forcing him to arch with a deep “ERGGHHMMMNN” groan. His traps and delts ballooned for a second.. veins rising thick and across his arms as the electric heat flooded every fiber
“Hnnggghhh—shit… NO!! My body…”
A weird, euphoric dizziness washed over him… For a split second he caught his reflection in the mirror, his own face staring back, eyes wide, lips parted, his chest heaving….
The app’s screen suddenly filled with spinning circles and loading bars. A new message popped up:
[Connection successfully established]
[Ready to jump?]
Ferdy’s thumb hovered over the glowing “YES” that had appeared
Well, he actually didn’t press it. But his body betrayed him.
“No!! No wait—!”
The funkot exploded into a distorted, mind-numbing drop. Every light in his room seemed to flicker…
His legs buckled. The iPhone stayed glued to his hand as if magnetized while his entire body began to burn with overwhelming, addictive heat
“Fuuuuckkkk…!! What’s happening to me…?!!”
His cock twitched hard in his compression shorts, traitorously thickening as the mysterious app continued its work…
The vibrations kept surging violently through his core, zeroing in on his massive chest. Ferdy’s huge, striated tits began throbbing and bouncing uncontrollably, the thick muscle plates jumping and flexing in alternating rhythm like they had a mind of their own….
“OUUUHHH~ ❤️”
His eyes crossed harrdd… rolling back into his head as his full lips puckered into a perfect, slutty “ouuhhh”
“Ohhhhh….”
He moaned hungrily as if an invisible, thick, throbbing cock had just speared into his tight ass and slammed straight into his prostate….
The pleasure hit so raw and sudden that his powerful legs trembled. He slapped both hands over his mouth in pure shock WTF eyes
“What the fuck was that—!!”
His voice already breathy and ruined.
[Control initiating…]
“Nnngg—AHHHH!!!”
His expensive compression shirt ripped apart down the front with a loud tearing sound…!the fabric shredding under the pressure of his swollen, twitching tits and shoulders. His pants followed, splitting violently at the seams as his massive quads and glutes flexed beyond their limits. The clothes fell away in tatters, leaving him on full display in nothing but his premium white Saligia briefs… already soaked dark at the front from the obscene amount of precum leaking from his painfully hard cock
“F-fuck… no… AHH YESS FUCK ME💦 No!! Stop… ahhhh….” he gasped, but even his deep, voice was breaking into pathetic, needy whimpers
His huge chest kept bouncing lewdly with every pulse from the app, nipples HARD, aching and sensitive
His thick ass flexed on its own, clenching around that fullness that kept nailing his prostate with precision “FWAP FWAP PLAP PLAP PLAP” his cheeks clapping on their own
[Vessel optimization in progress…]
[Ego protocols… dissolving. ONE]
Ferdy’s eyes fluttered…. fighting to stay conscious, but another powerful throb hit his prostate and ripped a fresh, broken “NYOAHHH❤️” from his throat
“Bbrrrrrrppppppp——!!”
Suddenly, his head started shaking violently. Left to right, left to right, up and down… ohoo bitch — faster and faster until his head blurred. Then, with one big crazy “SPROINGG!!” it stopped dead
His face snapped into a new expression….
His eyes half lidded and shifted sideways in a sly, derpy glance, one eyebrow raised high, lips curled into that, silly cartoonish tongue out…. The once perfect handsome face now looked nastier LOOOL
“Wuehehehe” a raspy, nasally Looney Tune ass voice slithered out from between his own lips, completely foreign to Ferdy’s masculine and calm voice
“Your body is mine now chico wehehe”
Both of his massive arms flexed hard on their own as the new presence tested its control. Then one hand shot down and slapped his heavy, still hard bulge through the soaked Saligia briefs with a loud SMACK, openly rubbing and squeezing the thick outline while his hips gave a lewd little thrust
“Wehehe~” the Looney tune voice chuckled again, clearly enjoying the way that fat cock jumped and leaked under the fabric. His head suddenly jerked and shook violently again Bbrrrrrrpppp—!! Before stopping just as abruptly….
Ferdyan slammed back into the driver’s seat with a big gasp
“Huh?!! What the fuck?!! What just happened to me!!!”
His chest was heaving, huge tits— I MEAN PECS— still twitching. He could still feel the ghost of that filthy slap on his bulge, his cock throbbing angrily and leaking even more into the already ruined briefs. One of his hands was still hovering dangerously close to his crotch, fingers twitching like they wanted to keep rubbing….
“Get the fuck out of my head!!!”
Deep down, he could feel it, that slimy, nasty presence still lurking just beneath the surface, laughing quietly, waiting for the next chance to take the wheel again
The app on the phone flashed one final message before the screen went black:
[Jump Boat successful. Host consciousness… retained for now]
Ferdy’s heart hammered in his chest as he slowly sat up on the floor, half naked, terrified… and shamefully, dangerously turned on 😏
“F-fuck!! Not again—!” he gasped, scrambling backward on his ass, powerful legs kicking weakly against the tiles. But it was already too late…
The vibrations returned with merciless force, flooding every nerve ending at once. His huge pecs started bouncing again in that humiliating alternating rhythm, faster and harder, while electric heat exploded down his spine and straight into his ass…
Then the presence slammed into his mind like a tidal wave
Bbrrrrrrppppppp—!!
His head shook violently again left, right, up, down blurring everything as the silly voice laughed inside his skull
“Wehehe~ There you are big boy”
“AHHH—get the fuck out—!!” Ferdy screamed, but the words came out breathy and broken, his real voice mixing with that nasally rasp at the edges
The fuckass entity seized control harder…
His right hand shot up and slapped his own face with a loud SMACK, then slid down to roughly grope and twist one fat, sensitive nipple
“OHOO❤️”
His cock surged violently in the soaked Saligia briefs, spitting another thick rope of precum that dribbled down his heavy balls
“Wehehe~ This body is fucking delicious, chico. So tight… so vain… so fucking horNYYY~~~”
Ferdyan’s vision doubled. The sensory overload was crushing him. Every flex of his abs sent sparks through his cock. Every clench of his hole made his eyes flutter… Sweat poured down his carved torso, the salty scent of his own musk filling his nostrils as the entity forced him to breathe deeper
His arms trembled as he forced them down to his sides, teeth gritted. For 30 seconds he almost had it, his body was his again.
“Miney meenie manee mine now~ wehehe”
The voice spoke directly from his mouth again, as his hand squeezed his cockhead hard and another thick spurt soaked through the briefs. Ferdy’s last coherent thought before the next wave hit was a broken moan:
“I…uwaaaahhh…I can’t… stop it… it feels too fucking good…”
The red light swallowed the entire room around him
His arms shot upward on their own, muscular biceps flexing into sharp peaks as he locked both hands behind his head. His sweaty, musky pits were completely exposed… the sharp, masculine mixed with his stale cologne and deodorant scent rising
“Wehehe~ Smell that, chico…wehee”
His own head was yanked forward aggressively…. His face buried deep into one pit, nose pressed right against the hot, damp skin. He inhaled like a beast “SNIFFFFFFSSS” long, greedy, desperate snorts drinking in the workout stink of his own body
The entity forced his tongue out next, dragging it slow and sloppy…. across the foggy pit, licking up the sweat with nasty “Schlllluuurrrrrpppp….!! 💦”
“Mmmpphh—!!”
Ferdy screamed inside his own head, mortified, but all that came out was a muffled, broken moan as his tongue kept lapping hungrily….
“Schlorp schlorp schlorp hngckk!! Ahhhhhh~~😌”
“Wehehe~ Good boy. Now the other one 😈”
His head twisted to the opposite pit with a force
“Hnggghhh—!! NO!! Eaaarrghhhhh—— SNIFFFFSS”
Same treatment… face smashed in, nose flaring as he sniffed like a gorilla in heat, tongue bathing the sensitive skin in long, degrading licks
Then the entity moved lower. Ferdy’s hands slid down his glistening torso, fingers hooking into the waistband of his ruined briefs. With one rough yank, he ripped them down his thick thighs and kicked them away. His buck naked brown cock sprang free… thick, heavy, veiny, and rock hard, the fat head glistening with precum, slapping wetly
“Wehehe~ Look at this fat fucking cock… all mine now wehe”
His fingers raked through the dense, musky pubic hair above his shaft. He scratched hard, nails digging into the skin, fluffing up the sweaty curls…. The sharp, filthy scent of cock, piss, and dried cum flooded the air around him
Without hesitation, the entity shoved those same fingers right under his nose
“OUHHHHHH FFFFCKKKK….!! 💦”
Ferdyan’s nostrils flared wide as he inhaled maniacally. Deep, lung filling snorts….. eyes rolling back again while his hips humped the air helplessly. The smell was pungent, intoxicating, utterly degrading….
His own hand kept the fingers pressed tight, forcing him to breathe nothing but that private muskkk
“Nnnghh—fuuuck—stop—!!”
Ferdymanaged to choke out in his real voice for a split second, his face burning with shame even as his cock leaked a long thick of cum onto the floor
But that fucking entity just laughed through his mouth, mocking him
“Wehehe~ Why stop when you smell this fucking good, Chico? 😏😜”
Ferdy body was made to be used. His free hand wrapped around his throbbing brown cock and gave it a few slow, possessive strokes while he kept sniffing his own pubes like a depraved addict
“This can’t be happening… I’m not… I’m not this fucking slut…”
Yall ask, I deliver. Also to celebrate me breaking the 100 followers milestone
Everything Hallelujah
Back in Surabaya, the real fun—and the real chaos—begin for the three new Chindos. Each of them dive into their stolen lives with zero shame and maximum filth, but Matthew’s upgrade feels especially delicious to Joko inside.
The family business is no small thing. Matthew’s parents runs a large-scale farming and goods production empire—thousands of hectares of rice, vegetables, and livestock across East Java, plus factories turning raw produce into packaged foods and export items. But Matthew’s father had specifically told him around a year ago to specialize in one growing division: Home & Wellness. Specifically, mattress and bedding plus high-end home furniture. Spring beds, memory foam mattresses, luxury pillows, bolsters, sofas, dining sets—everything that made rich Indonesian homes comfortable.
“Focus on this, Nak,” his dad had said. “People will always need a good place to sleep and fuck.”
In the old Matthew’s memories, testing new products had been rigorous and scientific. He would spend days in the company lab with engineers—measuring bounce coefficients, pressure mapping, durability under repeated compression machines, thermal regulation tests. Everything documented with spreadsheets, graphs, and professional reports. Boring as hell.
Now, with Joko the jamet kampung riding shotgun in that handsome Chindo body, “testing” took on a whole new filthy meaning.
A week after the mountain conquest, Joko-Matthew walked into his parents’ office wearing Matthew’s usual smart-casual outfit—fitted polo, slacks, and that confident city smile. He looked every bit the responsible heir.
“Pa, Ma, I need a new apartment," he said smoothly. “Preferably in Jakarta. Just for product testing. The lab is too far away I have to go back and forth beyond Sidoarjo event, and my current place is too small to properly evaluate the new spring bed collections and the full furniture line we’re launching next quarter. I want to test them in real living conditions—weight distribution, daily use, comfort over long periods. Scientific, like you guys always taught me.”
His parents beamed, proud of their “dedicated” son. Within days they bought him a brand-new two-bedroom apartment in a luxury high-rise in West Jakarta—skyline view, marble floors, and plenty of space. They even had the factory deliver the entire new launch collection straight there: the latest high-coil spring beds, premium memory-foam hybrids, swan-feather pillows and bolsters, Italian leather sofas, solid wood dining chairs, everything.
Joko-Matthew grinned like a wolf the moment the delivery guys left.
That same night he invited his girlfriend that's been working in Jakarta for the past 3 months, Clara—a pretty, spoiled Chinese-Indonesian girl from a tobacco family. She arrived in a tight dress, expecting a romantic dinner.
Instead, Joko-Matthew already have other plans.
“Baby, tonight we’re testing the new spring bed,” he told her with Matthew’s charming smile, already pulling her toward the master bedroom. The moment they hit the mattress he turned into an animal.
He fucked her hard on the new king-size spring bed, the coils bouncing perfectly under every thrust.
“NGENTOT! Ini spring bed enak banget, jing,” he muttered under his breath while pounding her, the spring bed performed and bounced exceptionally. “Liat tuh, membel gila! Ini kontol gue gak perlu gerak aneh-aneh, pantat si jablay udah mantul lagi tinggal diangkat dikit auto crottt masuk semua, sinting!"
Clara moaned, thinking it's just passionate sex after months of LDR. For her, Matthew is simply relentless as he grabbed her hair, called her all sort of names and then continue pounding her rougher than ever.
"NGGHHHH......three months baby, I've blue-balled myself for 3 months waiting for this tight warm pussy of yours.....ffuuuccckkkkk,"
After finishing inside her on the bed, with no break, he dragged her limp, exhausted body to the living room.
“Next item—sofa testing,” he said, bending her over the new leather sectional. The cushions are deep and soft; he railed her doggy-style until the sofa creaked rhythmically.
“Wah, monyet, tenggelem dia coy semakin lama gue teken. Empuk banget bantalan sofa ini. Damn......her tits bruh, toket cewek premium, sekel banget buset,"
He instinctively pressed her further as he leaned and ravaged her tits which caused her to yelp in pain and surprise, but this version of Matthew clearly has no interest to be denied as he muffled her mouth while keep cupping her breast and maintaining the pistoning movement that stretched her already slick, stretched hole even wider. But not even reaching his climax despite her squirting yet another two times, he lifted her body while still getting impaled by his cock to the dining chair as he sits down and she rides him, giving extra pressure to test the sturdiness of the chair.
As both of them sensed the impending final climax for Matthew due to the more intense pulsing from the veiny cock, Matthew pressed her shoulder and held her firm on her position, straddled and spread wide on his lap as he makes eye contact with her
"MMMPPHHHHH YEEEAHHH BABY.....MILK ME BABY......I'M SO FUCKIN' CLOSE BABY NGGHHHHAAAFFUUCCKKK!!!!"
Clara left the next morning for a brunch with her friends, kissing him goodbye and giggling about how “energetic” he become. She attributed it to the LDR, obviously because she's clueless that the kind of jamet that would disgust and terrified her before is now in control of her boyfriend's body
The moment the door closed, Joko-Matthew locked it and went full sange mode. He grabbed the new swan-feather pillow and the matching long bolster from the bed. Both are insanely soft, luxurious, covered in silky 1000-thread-count Egyptian cotton. He throws them on the living room floor, lay down, and started dry-humping like a horny dog.
“Hallelujah… empuk banget ini bantal, Tuhan Yesus,” he groaned, grinding his hard cock against the pillow, smirking internally for using such holy word profanely. “Shitt......the friction it creates, like sliding my cock across Clara's boobs, but less meaty and more soft.....ohhh fuck yeaaahhh,"
He stripped himself naked and then started to fuck the pillow first—slow, deep thrusts, feeling the feathers shift and mold around his shaft. Then he flipped to the bolster, wrapping his arms around it like it's a body and humping it furiously, hips snapping. Pre-cum soaked the fabric almost immediately. He simply doesn't stop. For hours he goes back and forth between pillow and bolster, sometimes rubbing his cock between them, sometimes squeezing them together around his dick like a makeshift toy.
By late afternoon the expensive pillows and bolster already drenched—dark wet patches everywhere, sticky with multiple loads of thick cum. The silky covers are ruined, feathers slightly clumped, but the bounce and softness still feels perfect.
That's exactly when his phone rings. His father.
“Matthew, how’s the testing going on the new collection? Any feedback for the factory?”
Joko-Matthew, still naked and sweaty, cock half-hard and resting on the soaked bolster, answered with perfect calm and Matthew’s polished voice.
“Pa, all the planned new items are approved. The spring bed has excellent coil response and pressure relief—very comfortable for extended use. The sofa cushions handle dynamic weight shifts beautifully. Dining chairs are stable under load. And the swan-feather pillows and bolsters…” he paused, smirking at the mess he’d made, “…they have outstanding softness and moisture-wicking properties. Really impressive. I tested them thoroughly. Highly recommended for the premium line.”
His father sounded delighted.
“Great work, nak! We’ll move forward with full production. Keep testing the rest of the line. Make sure everything meets our standards.”
“Will do, Pa. I’ll send the detailed report next week,” Joko-Matthew replied, already planning to “test” the next batch of pillows even harder.
He hung up, laughed low and filthy, then flopped back onto the cum-soaked swan-feather pillow.
“Anjir, hidup kaya gini enak banget, babi,” he muttered to himself, grinding slowly again. “Dulu di kampung cuma bisa ngocok di kasur tipis yang bolong-bolong. Sekarang? Kontol gue bisa ngentot bantal mahal tiap hari. Aset keluarga ini, duitnya, bisnis kasurnya, pemimpin masa depannya—semua milik gue sekarang. Monyet, gue bakal bikin perusahaan ini tambah kaya biar gue bisa makin foya-foya!"
------
Irwan-Noah slid into his new life like a knife into warm butter. Noah’s family runs one of Surabaya’s biggest import-export empires for premium gaming hardware, PC components, limited-edition sneakers, anime figures, and high-end collectibles. Containers full of RTX GPUs, mechanical keyboards, custom water-cooling rigs, Jordan drops, and thousand-dollar figurines arrived monthly from Singapore, Shenzhen, and Japan. The old Noah had been the perfect rich-koko face for the company—CS major, fluent English, always posting clean unboxings on Instagram and attending church every Sunday like a model son.
Irwan inside had zero interest in playing it clean. He rebranded Noah’s old Instagram into @NoahTechGod — and within weeks, he turned the casual review into high-production tech/gaming channel with 400k followers (boosted by some clever CS bot work). Daily unboxings of the latest hardware, “honest” reviews, and hype drops.
But the real money printer is the business line the old Noah deemed corruptive and unhealthy. Irwan faced no such moral ambiguity. His goal is to get rich, so using the stolen Computer Science brain, Irwan-Noah coded scalping bots that smashed every limited sneaker and GPU drop in Southeast Asia. He resold at 300–500% markup through private Telegram channels.
Then, he goes bigger. A lucrative offering from some Russian based in Bali in need of a financial backer. He DM'ed Noah looking at their shared interest and then offered Noah a part in his OnlyFans roster agency. Again, the old Noah will refuse it outright because OF is literally prostitution, but nothing that this new Noah loves more than a fresh, Russian or mixed-breed pussy for him to control. The arrangement is brutal, he and Dima (the Russian) takes 60% cuts, used the agency’s creators for private “content collabs,” and run discreet high-end sugar arrangements for wealthy clients who wanted a night with the talent, all possible due to Noah's connection that at first surprised at Noah's offerings but obviously Noah already mapped which connection of his will fall to the temptation and swear to keep this private dealings in the shadow
He still keeps the perfect church-boy image. Every Sunday he sits in the front pew of the Bethany Church, wearing crisp shirts, singing “Hallelujah” and all sort of hymns the loudest, shaking hands with the pastors and rich uncles. The same people who trusted the Tanudisastro and the new “Noah the influencer” for their kids’ birthday gifts and tech investments. No one suspected the jamet inside is mentally laughing while picturing the previous night’s filth.
Because the nights were filthy.
He kept Noah’s long-term girlfriend for optics — fucked her senseless in the new penthouse on a custom gaming chair that cost forty million rupiah.
“Hehe, look at your tits, jiggling so cutely, who paid for it, huh? Say it!" he’d growl while pounding her, the ergonomic backrest perfectly supporting his thrusts and the surgically perfect tits of Tiffany really enhanced the experience. But the moment she left, insatiable with lust, he’d open the agency roster and pick whoever he wanted.
One night he flew in a 22-year-old Bali-based OF creator he managed named Maria. They filmed “private content” on his new top-of-the-line streaming setup — him railing her on the glass desk while his 49-inch ultrawide monitor showed live scalping bots sniping the latest Yeezy drop. “Damn Maria, look at the mess your sloppy Russian cunt made. This memek of yours....so fucking wet, messing up my gaming table LOL," he laughed, recording everything for his personal archive.
Every few weeks, he’d link up secretly with the other two via encrypted chat
“Cuk, gue lagi bikin agency OF gede banget,” he typed one night while jerking off to his own leaked private video. “Bot scalping jalan terus, duit dari sneakers sama GPU ngalir deras. Kontol gue ngaceng mulu mikir berapa juta masuk hari ini. Kayak.....kontol kalian gitu juga gak sih? Kayak....horny-nya gak cuman seksual, material pun bisa bikin horny....."
Joko-Matthew replied instantly: “Iya cuk, gila sih ini. Kontol ku iki lho, matre tenan. Masa liat ada orang beli spring bed 35 juta, gue yang banjir, kita bener-bener ngerusak otak ini trio Chindo,"
Tri-Alexander added: "You're not alone, bro. Setiap kali ada orang tolol tf ke rekeningku, auto ngaceng ini, Alex kecil sampe keluar dari sangkar kulitnya, palkon pinknya nonjol kayak kepala jamur padahal biasanya ngumpet"
But from all the excitement that this new life bring forward, Irwan-Noah’s favorite part remained the collectibles room.
Noah had turned one entire bedroom into a shrine of limited figures, sneakers displayed in glass cases, and custom PC builds worth hundreds of millions. But once again, unlike Noah that took great care of the items inside and treated all of it as fragile items, this new Noah instead would fuck his latest agency talent right on the display shelves, cum dripping onto rare sneakers he’d later clean and resell at markup. Or he’d dry-hump a brand-new limited-edition body pillow (yes, the anime dakimakura ones) until it was soaked, then post a clean unboxing the next day like nothing happened.
“Anjir… dulu di kampung gue cuma punya poster cewek Jepang robek-robek,” he groaned one afternoon, grinding his hard cock against a fresh $800 dakimakura while church hymns still echoed in his head from that morning. “Sekarang gue punya ratusan, semuanya asli, dan kontol gue bisa ngentot semuanya tanpa mikir duit. Peju gue basahin semuanya, terus gue jual lagi. Hallelujah, inilah surga dunia.”
He still attended mass every Sunday, smiling sweetly at the pastors, donating fat checks from the “honest” import business. Inside he's screaming with laughter: “Dulu KTP Muslim doang, sekarang nyanyi Aku Hendak Bersyukur Pada Tuhan sambil mikir besok gue mau ngentot model OF mana. Lucu banget, jing.”
------
While Joko-Matthew is busy “scientifically testing” every new mattress and pillow in his luxury apartment and Irwan-Noah developed his multi-front business, Tri-Alexander wasted zero time turning his stolen double-degree of accounting and CS into pure chaos.
Alexander’s family name—Tanudisastro—carried serious weight in Surabaya’s Chinese-Indonesian business circles despite both of his parents demise a few years before which left the family business in the hand of his 3 older siblings. Old money, respected, trustworthy. People trusted anyone with that surname on sight. Tri inside grinned like a shark the moment he realized how he's capable to act as a lone actor as the siblings are all estranged anyway and only gathered twice a year for Chinese New Year and Christmas
Within two weeks after the mountain trip, he launched “Alex Tan Crypto Mastery” — a full-on “Master Class” promising to teach ordinary Indonesians how to 10x their money in crypto. Slick Instagram ads, TikTok reels, private Telegram groups. The pitch is classic: “From zero to financial freedom in 90 days. Learn my proven strategies from Big 4 accounting + real trading experience.”
Signup is simple and greedy:
5 million rupiah upfront to join the “exclusive cohort.”
Another 10 million upon “completion” (after the final module and “live trading session”).
Hundreds signed up fast. The Tanudisastro name bought instant credibility. Tri-Alexander runs these classes like a pro—Zoom sessions full of fancy charts he copied from YouTube, fake wallet screenshots, and hype talk about “whale signals” and “smart contract arbitrage.” He even throws in some real basic accounting tips so it sounded legitimate.
Behind the scenes, it's pure scam. The “strategies” are trash. Most students lost money chasing his fake signals. The second 10 million payment? He guilt-tripped or ghosted half of them. Money flowed straight into anonymous crypto wallets he controlled with the stolen CS skills.
“Orang-orang goblok, gampang banget nipu orang kaya gini,” he laughed one night while counting incoming transfers on his multiple screens. “Dulu di kampung gue cuma bisa jual oli palsu. Sekarang? Kontol gue ngaceng tiap liat duit masuk. Ka-ching 5 juta. Ka-ching 5 juta. Ka-ching 5 juta. Fuck yeah, when it hit 500 millions, I'm blowing my load!"
He bragged to the other two during their secret group chat
“Cuk, gue lagi bikin masterclass crypto. Orang-orang pada bayar duluan 5 juta, abis itu 10 juta lagi. Nama Tanudisastro ini kayak magic, jing. Mereka percaya aja. Gue kasih chart palsu, mereka transfer. Aliran duitnya sederes peju gue WKWKWKWK"
Joko-Matthew replied with laughing emojis: “Wah, mantap rek. Kapan-kapan kita harus kumpul ini, kita udah sengaco ini tapi gak ada yang stop kita, kalau di kampung sih ini kita udah digebukin,"
Irwan-Noah just simply sent: “Jangan lupa bagi hasil, babi.”
For 3 months, the scam runs hot. Tri-Alexander raked in over 4.5 billion rupiah before the complaints exploded. Students started posting screenshots in Facebook groups, tagging OJK and police. The Telegram group turned into a war zone. The “Master Class” is crashing hard in real time and the young Tanudisastro heir become a fugitive. But Tri-Alexander had already planned the exit way before the implosion. In fact, he's been out from Indonesia a month before everything collapsed. One night, he packed two suitcases with cash, a couple of laptops, and Noah’s spare gaming rig (borrowed “for testing”). He burned the old phones, wiped every digital trace he could, and flew out on a one-way business class ticket to Sydney using a clean passport he’d arranged through dark-web contacts with his new CS knowledge. The clean passport belonged to a particular Kevin Wijaya, the actual valedictorian from Alexander's campus. Kevin was a quiet, brilliant accounting graduate with perfect grades, multiple awards, and big dreams of working abroad. But Kevin’s family was modest; no strong connections, no money for visa sponsorships or relocation. Tri-Alexander thought it was perfect.
“Might as well, nyet,” he muttered while forging all his documents. “It's not like he's able to go work in Sydney, right? At best he's working for some boutique practice in Surabaya, he's too clingy to his family. It's gonna be such a waste if the best graduate from our uni with the perfect GPA just let such title sit idle with no one utilizing it. I'm just doing that title right, you know, maximizing its worth,"
He landed in Sydney as Kevin Wijaya, fresh Indonesian accounting grad with “impressive references” and a polished LinkedIn profile he built overnight. The Big 4 firms were hiring. He targeted PwC Sydney—one of the dominant players in the city—and got in surprisingly fast. His fake-but-flawless credentials, fluent English (thanks to the stolen memories), and that trustworthy Chindo face did the trick. Visa is not an issue as he can afford the cost needed and the living expenses while waiting for his work visa to be granted anyway. The scam plus access to the Tanudisastro offshore account allowed him a chance to just settle down, prepare his life and then seize the job once everything is set
Within 6 months in Australia, he works as a junior auditor at PwC, wearing crisp shirts and ties, sitting in glass-walled offices overlooking the harbour. Colleagues think he’s quiet, hardworking, and a bit intense. They have no idea the loudmouth jamet inside is cackling every time he sees another red flag and findings on the client's book as he planned to dangle this finding to the client for his benefit behind his seniors back. Not just at work, his mind keeps on pumped to do more scams and tricks. Australia's short work hours allowed him to do side-hustling and he's already eyeing the Asian diaspora to lure into his trap. He’s quietly building a new crypto “investment club” targeted at wealthy Asian migrants in Sydney—Indonesians, Malaysians, Singaporeans. Smaller, more exclusive. Higher entry fee. He’s studying Australian regulations, learning how to hide trails better, and testing small-scale wallet drainers and fake NFT drops. The plan is to run it slow this time, maybe 12–18 months before cashing out and disappearing again
At the same time, the news about his scam revelation concerned his buddies. For a while, he was really AWOL. Even his older siblings have to come forward about their fractured relations between each other and how Alexander is a "lone wolf" doing all the actions on his own. The police found no linkages too between the three siblings to the scam so no prosecution moved forward. Eventually, after around a month of total silence, a chat popped from the chatroom in the encrypted app the three of them use. It's Alexander, with an update
"Name's Kevin now. Stole that poor dweeb's identity and banked on his valedictorian status. Laid low Down Under. Will share more updates later,"
From then, every few weeks ever since, he still secretly chats with Joko-Matthew and Irwan-Noah on the chatroom, maintaining the linkages to their shared past shenanigan and future reunion
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Everything Hallelujah
Back in Surabaya, the real fun—and the real chaos—begin for the three new Chindos. Each of them dive into their stolen lives with zero shame and maximum filth, but Matthew’s upgrade feels especially delicious to Joko inside.
The family business is no small thing. Matthew’s parents runs a large-scale farming and goods production empire—thousands of hectares of rice, vegetables, and livestock across East Java, plus factories turning raw produce into packaged foods and export items. But Matthew’s father had specifically told him around a year ago to specialize in one growing division: Home & Wellness. Specifically, mattress and bedding plus high-end home furniture. Spring beds, memory foam mattresses, luxury pillows, bolsters, sofas, dining sets—everything that made rich Indonesian homes comfortable.
“Focus on this, Nak,” his dad had said. “People will always need a good place to sleep and fuck.”
In the old Matthew’s memories, testing new products had been rigorous and scientific. He would spend days in the company lab with engineers—measuring bounce coefficients, pressure mapping, durability under repeated compression machines, thermal regulation tests. Everything documented with spreadsheets, graphs, and professional reports. Boring as hell.
Now, with Joko the jamet kampung riding shotgun in that handsome Chindo body, “testing” took on a whole new filthy meaning.
A week after the mountain conquest, Joko-Matthew walked into his parents’ office wearing Matthew’s usual smart-casual outfit—fitted polo, slacks, and that confident city smile. He looked every bit the responsible heir.
“Pa, Ma, I need a new apartment," he said smoothly. “Preferably in Jakarta. Just for product testing. The lab is too far away I have to go back and forth beyond Sidoarjo event, and my current place is too small to properly evaluate the new spring bed collections and the full furniture line we’re launching next quarter. I want to test them in real living conditions—weight distribution, daily use, comfort over long periods. Scientific, like you guys always taught me.”
His parents beamed, proud of their “dedicated” son. Within days they bought him a brand-new two-bedroom apartment in a luxury high-rise in West Jakarta—skyline view, marble floors, and plenty of space. They even had the factory deliver the entire new launch collection straight there: the latest high-coil spring beds, premium memory-foam hybrids, swan-feather pillows and bolsters, Italian leather sofas, solid wood dining chairs, everything.
Joko-Matthew grinned like a wolf the moment the delivery guys left.
That same night he invited his girlfriend that's been working in Jakarta for the past 3 months, Clara—a pretty, spoiled Chinese-Indonesian girl from a tobacco family. She arrived in a tight dress, expecting a romantic dinner.
Instead, Joko-Matthew already have other plans.
“Baby, tonight we’re testing the new spring bed,” he told her with Matthew’s charming smile, already pulling her toward the master bedroom. The moment they hit the mattress he turned into an animal.
He fucked her hard on the new king-size spring bed, the coils bouncing perfectly under every thrust.
“NGENTOT! Ini spring bed enak banget, jing,” he muttered under his breath while pounding her, the spring bed performed and bounced exceptionally. “Liat tuh, membel gila! Ini kontol gue gak perlu gerak aneh-aneh, pantat si jablay udah mantul lagi tinggal diangkat dikit auto crottt masuk semua, sinting!"
Clara moaned, thinking it's just passionate sex after months of LDR. For her, Matthew is simply relentless as he grabbed her hair, called her all sort of names and then continue pounding her rougher than ever.
"NGGHHHH......three months baby, I've blue-balled myself for 3 months waiting for this tight warm pussy of yours.....ffuuuccckkkkk,"
After finishing inside her on the bed, with no break, he dragged her limp, exhausted body to the living room.
“Next item—sofa testing,” he said, bending her over the new leather sectional. The cushions are deep and soft; he railed her doggy-style until the sofa creaked rhythmically.
“Wah, monyet, tenggelem dia coy semakin lama gue teken. Empuk banget bantalan sofa ini. Damn......her tits bruh, toket cewek premium, sekel banget buset,"
He instinctively pressed her further as he leaned and ravaged her tits which caused her to yelp in pain and surprise, but this version of Matthew clearly has no interest to be denied as he muffled her mouth while keep cupping her breast and maintaining the pistoning movement that stretched her already slick, stretched hole even wider. But not even reaching his climax despite her squirting yet another two times, he lifted her body while still getting impaled by his cock to the dining chair as he sits down and she rides him, giving extra pressure to test the sturdiness of the chair.
As both of them sensed the impending final climax for Matthew due to the more intense pulsing from the veiny cock, Matthew pressed her shoulder and held her firm on her position, straddled and spread wide on his lap as he makes eye contact with her
"MMMPPHHHHH YEEEAHHH BABY.....MILK ME BABY......I'M SO FUCKIN' CLOSE BABY NGGHHHHAAAFFUUCCKKK!!!!"
Clara left the next morning for a brunch with her friends, kissing him goodbye and giggling about how “energetic” he become. She attributed it to the LDR, obviously because she's clueless that the kind of jamet that would disgust and terrified her before is now in control of her boyfriend's body
The moment the door closed, Joko-Matthew locked it and went full sange mode. He grabbed the new swan-feather pillow and the matching long bolster from the bed. Both are insanely soft, luxurious, covered in silky 1000-thread-count Egyptian cotton. He throws them on the living room floor, lay down, and started dry-humping like a horny dog.
“Hallelujah… empuk banget ini bantal, Tuhan Yesus,” he groaned, grinding his hard cock against the pillow, smirking internally for using such holy word profanely. “Shitt......the friction it creates, like sliding my cock across Clara's boobs, but less meaty and more soft.....ohhh fuck yeaaahhh,"
He stripped himself naked and then started to fuck the pillow first—slow, deep thrusts, feeling the feathers shift and mold around his shaft. Then he flipped to the bolster, wrapping his arms around it like it's a body and humping it furiously, hips snapping. Pre-cum soaked the fabric almost immediately. He simply doesn't stop. For hours he goes back and forth between pillow and bolster, sometimes rubbing his cock between them, sometimes squeezing them together around his dick like a makeshift toy.
By late afternoon the expensive pillows and bolster already drenched—dark wet patches everywhere, sticky with multiple loads of thick cum. The silky covers are ruined, feathers slightly clumped, but the bounce and softness still feels perfect.
That's exactly when his phone rings. His father.
“Matthew, how’s the testing going on the new collection? Any feedback for the factory?”
Joko-Matthew, still naked and sweaty, cock half-hard and resting on the soaked bolster, answered with perfect calm and Matthew’s polished voice.
“Pa, all the planned new items are approved. The spring bed has excellent coil response and pressure relief—very comfortable for extended use. The sofa cushions handle dynamic weight shifts beautifully. Dining chairs are stable under load. And the swan-feather pillows and bolsters…” he paused, smirking at the mess he’d made, “…they have outstanding softness and moisture-wicking properties. Really impressive. I tested them thoroughly. Highly recommended for the premium line.”
His father sounded delighted.
“Great work, nak! We’ll move forward with full production. Keep testing the rest of the line. Make sure everything meets our standards.”
“Will do, Pa. I’ll send the detailed report next week,” Joko-Matthew replied, already planning to “test” the next batch of pillows even harder.
He hung up, laughed low and filthy, then flopped back onto the cum-soaked swan-feather pillow.
“Anjir, hidup kaya gini enak banget, babi,” he muttered to himself, grinding slowly again. “Dulu di kampung cuma bisa ngocok di kasur tipis yang bolong-bolong. Sekarang? Kontol gue bisa ngentot bantal mahal tiap hari. Aset keluarga ini, duitnya, bisnis kasurnya, pemimpin masa depannya—semua milik gue sekarang. Monyet, gue bakal bikin perusahaan ini tambah kaya biar gue bisa makin foya-foya!"
------
Irwan-Noah slid into his new life like a knife into warm butter. Noah’s family runs one of Surabaya’s biggest import-export empires for premium gaming hardware, PC components, limited-edition sneakers, anime figures, and high-end collectibles. Containers full of RTX GPUs, mechanical keyboards, custom water-cooling rigs, Jordan drops, and thousand-dollar figurines arrived monthly from Singapore, Shenzhen, and Japan. The old Noah had been the perfect rich-koko face for the company—CS major, fluent English, always posting clean unboxings on Instagram and attending church every Sunday like a model son.
Irwan inside had zero interest in playing it clean. He rebranded Noah’s old Instagram into @NoahTechGod — and within weeks, he turned the casual review into high-production tech/gaming channel with 400k followers (boosted by some clever CS bot work). Daily unboxings of the latest hardware, “honest” reviews, and hype drops.
But the real money printer is the business line the old Noah deemed corruptive and unhealthy. Irwan faced no such moral ambiguity. His goal is to get rich, so using the stolen Computer Science brain, Irwan-Noah coded scalping bots that smashed every limited sneaker and GPU drop in Southeast Asia. He resold at 300–500% markup through private Telegram channels.
Then, he goes bigger. A lucrative offering from some Russian based in Bali in need of a financial backer. He DM'ed Noah looking at their shared interest and then offered Noah a part in his OnlyFans roster agency. Again, the old Noah will refuse it outright because OF is literally prostitution, but nothing that this new Noah loves more than a fresh, Russian or mixed-breed pussy for him to control. The arrangement is brutal, he and Dima (the Russian) takes 60% cuts, used the agency’s creators for private “content collabs,” and run discreet high-end sugar arrangements for wealthy clients who wanted a night with the talent, all possible due to Noah's connection that at first surprised at Noah's offerings but obviously Noah already mapped which connection of his will fall to the temptation and swear to keep this private dealings in the shadow
He still keeps the perfect church-boy image. Every Sunday he sits in the front pew of the Bethany Church, wearing crisp shirts, singing “Hallelujah” and all sort of hymns the loudest, shaking hands with the pastors and rich uncles. The same people who trusted the Tanudisastro and the new “Noah the influencer” for their kids’ birthday gifts and tech investments. No one suspected the jamet inside is mentally laughing while picturing the previous night’s filth.
Because the nights were filthy.
He kept Noah’s long-term girlfriend for optics — fucked her senseless in the new penthouse on a custom gaming chair that cost forty million rupiah.
“Hehe, look at your tits, jiggling so cutely, who paid for it, huh? Say it!" he’d growl while pounding her, the ergonomic backrest perfectly supporting his thrusts and the surgically perfect tits of Tiffany really enhanced the experience. But the moment she left, insatiable with lust, he’d open the agency roster and pick whoever he wanted.
One night he flew in a 22-year-old Bali-based OF creator he managed named Maria. They filmed “private content” on his new top-of-the-line streaming setup — him railing her on the glass desk while his 49-inch ultrawide monitor showed live scalping bots sniping the latest Yeezy drop. “Damn Maria, look at the mess your sloppy Russian cunt made. This memek of yours....so fucking wet, messing up my gaming table LOL," he laughed, recording everything for his personal archive.
Every few weeks, he’d link up secretly with the other two via encrypted chat
“Cuk, gue lagi bikin agency OF gede banget,” he typed one night while jerking off to his own leaked private video. “Bot scalping jalan terus, duit dari sneakers sama GPU ngalir deras. Kontol gue ngaceng mulu mikir berapa juta masuk hari ini. Kayak.....kontol kalian gitu juga gak sih? Kayak....horny-nya gak cuman seksual, material pun bisa bikin horny....."
Joko-Matthew replied instantly: “Iya cuk, gila sih ini. Kontol ku iki lho, matre tenan. Masa liat ada orang beli spring bed 35 juta, gue yang banjir, kita bener-bener ngerusak otak ini trio Chindo,"
Tri-Alexander added: "You're not alone, bro. Setiap kali ada orang tolol tf ke rekeningku, auto ngaceng ini, Alex kecil sampe keluar dari sangkar kulitnya, palkon pinknya nonjol kayak kepala jamur padahal biasanya ngumpet"
But from all the excitement that this new life bring forward, Irwan-Noah’s favorite part remained the collectibles room.
Noah had turned one entire bedroom into a shrine of limited figures, sneakers displayed in glass cases, and custom PC builds worth hundreds of millions. But once again, unlike Noah that took great care of the items inside and treated all of it as fragile items, this new Noah instead would fuck his latest agency talent right on the display shelves, cum dripping onto rare sneakers he’d later clean and resell at markup. Or he’d dry-hump a brand-new limited-edition body pillow (yes, the anime dakimakura ones) until it was soaked, then post a clean unboxing the next day like nothing happened.
“Anjir… dulu di kampung gue cuma punya poster cewek Jepang robek-robek,” he groaned one afternoon, grinding his hard cock against a fresh $800 dakimakura while church hymns still echoed in his head from that morning. “Sekarang gue punya ratusan, semuanya asli, dan kontol gue bisa ngentot semuanya tanpa mikir duit. Peju gue basahin semuanya, terus gue jual lagi. Hallelujah, inilah surga dunia.”
He still attended mass every Sunday, smiling sweetly at the pastors, donating fat checks from the “honest” import business. Inside he's screaming with laughter: “Dulu KTP Muslim doang, sekarang nyanyi Aku Hendak Bersyukur Pada Tuhan sambil mikir besok gue mau ngentot model OF mana. Lucu banget, jing.”
------
While Joko-Matthew is busy “scientifically testing” every new mattress and pillow in his luxury apartment and Irwan-Noah developed his multi-front business, Tri-Alexander wasted zero time turning his stolen double-degree of accounting and CS into pure chaos.
Alexander’s family name—Tanudisastro—carried serious weight in Surabaya’s Chinese-Indonesian business circles despite both of his parents demise a few years before which left the family business in the hand of his 3 older siblings. Old money, respected, trustworthy. People trusted anyone with that surname on sight. Tri inside grinned like a shark the moment he realized how he's capable to act as a lone actor as the siblings are all estranged anyway and only gathered twice a year for Chinese New Year and Christmas
Within two weeks after the mountain trip, he launched “Alex Tan Crypto Mastery” — a full-on “Master Class” promising to teach ordinary Indonesians how to 10x their money in crypto. Slick Instagram ads, TikTok reels, private Telegram groups. The pitch is classic: “From zero to financial freedom in 90 days. Learn my proven strategies from Big 4 accounting + real trading experience.”
Signup is simple and greedy:
5 million rupiah upfront to join the “exclusive cohort.”
Another 10 million upon “completion” (after the final module and “live trading session”).
Hundreds signed up fast. The Tanudisastro name bought instant credibility. Tri-Alexander runs these classes like a pro—Zoom sessions full of fancy charts he copied from YouTube, fake wallet screenshots, and hype talk about “whale signals” and “smart contract arbitrage.” He even throws in some real basic accounting tips so it sounded legitimate.
Behind the scenes, it's pure scam. The “strategies” are trash. Most students lost money chasing his fake signals. The second 10 million payment? He guilt-tripped or ghosted half of them. Money flowed straight into anonymous crypto wallets he controlled with the stolen CS skills.
“Orang-orang goblok, gampang banget nipu orang kaya gini,” he laughed one night while counting incoming transfers on his multiple screens. “Dulu di kampung gue cuma bisa jual oli palsu. Sekarang? Kontol gue ngaceng tiap liat duit masuk. Ka-ching 5 juta. Ka-ching 5 juta. Ka-ching 5 juta. Fuck yeah, when it hit 500 millions, I'm blowing my load!"
He bragged to the other two during their secret group chat
“Cuk, gue lagi bikin masterclass crypto. Orang-orang pada bayar duluan 5 juta, abis itu 10 juta lagi. Nama Tanudisastro ini kayak magic, jing. Mereka percaya aja. Gue kasih chart palsu, mereka transfer. Aliran duitnya sederes peju gue WKWKWKWK"
Joko-Matthew replied with laughing emojis: “Wah, mantap rek. Kapan-kapan kita harus kumpul ini, kita udah sengaco ini tapi gak ada yang stop kita, kalau di kampung sih ini kita udah digebukin,"
Irwan-Noah just simply sent: “Jangan lupa bagi hasil, babi.”
For 3 months, the scam runs hot. Tri-Alexander raked in over 4.5 billion rupiah before the complaints exploded. Students started posting screenshots in Facebook groups, tagging OJK and police. The Telegram group turned into a war zone. The “Master Class” is crashing hard in real time and the young Tanudisastro heir become a fugitive. But Tri-Alexander had already planned the exit way before the implosion. In fact, he's been out from Indonesia a month before everything collapsed. One night, he packed two suitcases with cash, a couple of laptops, and Noah’s spare gaming rig (borrowed “for testing”). He burned the old phones, wiped every digital trace he could, and flew out on a one-way business class ticket to Sydney using a clean passport he’d arranged through dark-web contacts with his new CS knowledge. The clean passport belonged to a particular Kevin Wijaya, the actual valedictorian from Alexander's campus. Kevin was a quiet, brilliant accounting graduate with perfect grades, multiple awards, and big dreams of working abroad. But Kevin’s family was modest; no strong connections, no money for visa sponsorships or relocation. Tri-Alexander thought it was perfect.
“Might as well, nyet,” he muttered while forging all his documents. “It's not like he's able to go work in Sydney, right? At best he's working for some boutique practice in Surabaya, he's too clingy to his family. It's gonna be such a waste if the best graduate from our uni with the perfect GPA just let such title sit idle with no one utilizing it. I'm just doing that title right, you know, maximizing its worth,"
He landed in Sydney as Kevin Wijaya, fresh Indonesian accounting grad with “impressive references” and a polished LinkedIn profile he built overnight. The Big 4 firms were hiring. He targeted PwC Sydney—one of the dominant players in the city—and got in surprisingly fast. His fake-but-flawless credentials, fluent English (thanks to the stolen memories), and that trustworthy Chindo face did the trick. Visa is not an issue as he can afford the cost needed and the living expenses while waiting for his work visa to be granted anyway. The scam plus access to the Tanudisastro offshore account allowed him a chance to just settle down, prepare his life and then seize the job once everything is set
Within 6 months in Australia, he works as a junior auditor at PwC, wearing crisp shirts and ties, sitting in glass-walled offices overlooking the harbour. Colleagues think he’s quiet, hardworking, and a bit intense. They have no idea the loudmouth jamet inside is cackling every time he sees another red flag and findings on the client's book as he planned to dangle this finding to the client for his benefit behind his seniors back. Not just at work, his mind keeps on pumped to do more scams and tricks. Australia's short work hours allowed him to do side-hustling and he's already eyeing the Asian diaspora to lure into his trap. He’s quietly building a new crypto “investment club” targeted at wealthy Asian migrants in Sydney—Indonesians, Malaysians, Singaporeans. Smaller, more exclusive. Higher entry fee. He’s studying Australian regulations, learning how to hide trails better, and testing small-scale wallet drainers and fake NFT drops. The plan is to run it slow this time, maybe 12–18 months before cashing out and disappearing again
At the same time, the news about his scam revelation concerned his buddies. For a while, he was really AWOL. Even his older siblings have to come forward about their fractured relations between each other and how Alexander is a "lone wolf" doing all the actions on his own. The police found no linkages too between the three siblings to the scam so no prosecution moved forward. Eventually, after around a month of total silence, a chat popped from the chatroom in the encrypted app the three of them use. It's Alexander, with an update
"Name's Kevin now. Stole that poor dweeb's identity and banked on his valedictorian status. Laid low Down Under. Will share more updates later,"
From then, every few weeks ever since, he still secretly chats with Joko-Matthew and Irwan-Noah on the chatroom, maintaining the linkages to their shared past shenanigan and future reunion
Thomas stared into the sleek mirror of the upscale apartment, his nerdy college existence erased in a blinding flash of magic that swapped him straight into Pietro Boselli’s godlike form. One second he was a scrawny dork with a limp three-inch prick leaking pre over his keyboard; the next, his hands hung loose at his sides, massive veiny forearms framing an eight-pack of shredded abs glistening under warm lights. “Holy shit!” he gasped, eyes wide as the heavy gold chain swayed between two thick, pillowy pecs that rose and fell with every shaky breath.
“No fucking way… I’m really him,” he breathed in a deep, rumbling voice that wasn’t his own, the words vibrating through a thick, corded neck and out past full lips. His new cock—fat, uncut, already swelling thick as a beer can—twitched hard inside tight shorts, the fat head nudging wetly against fabric. “This body… it’s mine now. Pietro’s huge fucking muscles are all mine.”
His right hand lifted slow and deliberate, fingers splaying wide as they pressed flat over the left pec, feeling the firm, warm meat yield under his palm. “Uuuuhhhnnn,” Thomas groaned low and filthy, the sound rumbling from his chest like thunder while his nipple pebbled instantly against his thumb. Sweat beaded fresh across the smooth, tanned skin, making every ridge of muscle shine obscenely. He squeezed harder, kneading the heavy slab like it was dough, and his fat dick jumped visibly, a thick bead of precum soaking through. “Oh fuck yes… these tits—pecs—are so goddamn sensitive. Mmmphhh, they’re bigger than my old head.”
The hand glided downward in one slick, teasing trail, palm dragging over the deep valleys between his abs as his eyes fluttered shut and his mouth fell open on a needy sigh. “Aaaahhh… shit, look at this rack,” he whispered hoarsely, voice cracking with lust while his fingers traced every hard ridge. His cock throbbed angrily now, balls heavy and full, pulling the shorts tight around the massive bulge. Another groan tore free—“Fuuuuck”—as he cupped the lower abs, feeling them clench and ripple under his touch, the skin so hot and slippery he could barely keep from humping the air.
Both hands dropped to his waist, fingers digging greedily into the V-lines that arrowed straight to his leaking monster cock. Thomas’s head tipped back slightly, lips parted on ragged breaths while he rubbed slow circles over the slick, carved muscle. “Mmmphhh god damn… this body’s so fucking horny already,” he panted, thumbs brushing the waistband as his hips rolled forward on instinct. Precum drooled steadily now, turning the front of his shorts dark and sticky. “Pietro’s abs feel like steel wrapped in velvet… and this dick—holy shit, it’s huge and it’s mine to stroke whenever I want.”
His arms crossed slowly over his chest, hands sliding up to grip and knead both pecs at once, fingers sinking deep into the warm, sweat-slicked flesh while his head fell fully back with a long, guttural moan. “Uuuuhhhnnn yes… squeeze these fat fucking tits,” Thomas growled to himself, voice thick and broken as his crossed forearms flexed huge and his nipples scraped deliciously against his own skin. The gold chain dug into his throat, cock pulsing visibly, balls tightening as more precum oozed out in a steady drip. “Aaaahhh fuck… I’m never going back. This body’s too perfect, too hung, too—”
He kept kneading harder, thumbs flicking over stiff nipples again and again, the wet sounds of skin on skin filling the room while his thick cock strained desperately against the soaked fabric. “Mmmphhh… yeah, just like that, I can't stop rubbing these huge muscles… my new huge fucking muscles,” he panted, eyes still half-lidded in the mirror, every breath making the chain bounce between his heaving pecs. Sweat poured freely now, running in shiny rivers down the deep cuts of his abs and soaking the waistband where his cockhead leaked nonstop. The pleasure built slow and filthy, every flex and grope sending fresh jolts straight to his throbbing balls.
Thomas uncrossed and recrossed his arms the other way, left hand now mauling the right pec while his right palm dragged lower, tracing the treasure trail toward that monstrous, dripping dick. “Fuuuuck… it’s getting even harder,” he moaned, voice cracking into a needy whimper as his fingers brushed the swollen head through the fabric. “This Pietro cock is so fat and heavy… leaking like a whore for me. Aaaahhhnnn… gonna milk it dry in this body, gonna—”
He kept going, hands roaming endlessly over every inch of his new, glistening physique, moans growing louder and dirtier with each passing second.
"Yeah, I can get used to this. I hope it'll never end."
I just want to say thank you so much for all your support! It's been an amazing and heartwarming experience receiving all your messages and hearing that you guys love the AI videos I've made. Don't worry, I'll still be making and posting tf videos, but maybe not as often or as quickly as the past few days.
Aiman stepped off the rickety intercity bus into the dusty lane of his hometown on the outskirts of Jakarta, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows over the familiar wooden houses and narrow alleys. At just 18, fresh from six years at the pesantren in East Java, he looked every bit the ideal santri: body built and toned from years of communal living, service and prayer, dressed in a crisp white koko shirt with black buttons, matching white trousers, and a simple white peci cap perched neatly on his short black hair. His voice is soft, almost melodic, when he greeted his parents at the gate.
“Assalamualaikum, Umi… Abi. I’m home.”
They beamed with pride. Their only son had graduated with glowing reports—hafidz of the Quran, top marks in fiqh, never once caught breaking the strict rules of the boarding school. Such glowing result carved out an opportunity for him to go study with full-ride scholarship to attend UIN Jakarta in the next few months, closer to home, no payment needed and his living cost fully covered. He's the embodiment of the devoted, blessed offspring for the family, anak berbakti.
Aside from his parents though, the entire komplek is made aware of Aiman's return, including the divorced, jobless perv, Pak Adi. 35 years old, freshly fired from the small electronics workshop for "inappropriate behavior" towards customer and "indecent exposure" towards his younger coworker. His phone is flooded with pinjol apps, he owed almost forty million rupiah across seven different lenders. Some unsavory gossips spread around the komplek about his daily activities ever since he got terminated, chain-smoking, day-drinking, the gambling he did as last ditch effort to solve his money problem, that man has no clear exit. So, it doesn't come with a surprise that the following day after Aiman's arrival, a loud scream breaks through the quietness of the komplek in the quiet and mostly peaceful Sunday morning as someone found Pak Adi's corpse foaming in the mouth, body stiff and eyes blood-shot in his bedroom. The elder of the komplek mentioned about "mati yang kurang baik" to describe Pak Adi's situation. Debt not settled, family's that left him confirmed no attendant, his own blood family refused to come, what a sad way to move on from this life. Aiman leads the prayer for Pak Adi's corpse and even helped around with the burial. People found him to not be just attractive, but he's also personable, sounding very nice and mature plus his choice of words has always been so polite, anak idaman
Aiman smiled gently, eyes lowered in that humble way the kyai had taught him. But inside his head, something ancient and filthy stirred.
---
The previous night right when Aiman came home, Adi already reached acute desperation. He’d found an old, yellowed book in his late grandfather’s storage—black magic scraps from some long-forgotten dukun in the village. Blood, a stolen lock of hair from Aiman’s childhood haircut when Adi still has a barber shop funded by his wife and he collected everyone's lock in the village without her knowing, and a whispered incantation under the full moon. Adi no longer cared if the magic killed him. Anything is better than the debt collectors and the empty wallet and the endless, aching want. Aiman will be my exit, he thought. I will hide inside that soft-spoken pious boy and start everything over, making sure I'm not gonna ended up broke and crazy like this rotten life I have now
The spell hit like lightning. Across the alley, Aiman had just finished his final Isya prayer in his childhood room, kneeling on the old prayer mat in his white koko, eyes closed in peaceful dhikr. A sudden chill swept through him—then fire. His body convulsed once, silently, as something oily and hungry slammed into his soul.
The real Aiman’s consciousness flickered out like a candle in the wind, gentle and unaware, while Adi’s filthy essence flooded every vein, every nerve. The battle was swift yet brutal, and the force of dark magic really took out a lot from Adi's too as he ended up slumped on the prayer mat right after seizing control of Aiman's physique
---
The next morning Aiman wakes up in his childhood bed, sunlight filtering through the bamboo blinds. He stretched, feeling the foreign muscles of his now own arms, the smooth skin, the young heart beating steady and strong. The thoughts flooding his mind clearly belonged to Adi and he's got hit by this insane urge to do something about his growing hardened bulge
*Anjing… perjaka dia cok,* the voice—Adi’s voice—rasped inside his skull. *Gila......badan semantep ini. Sekel. Kenceng. Mulus. Kontol gede......dan ini semua punya gue sekarang, gue adalah bocah pesantren ingusan berbadan seksi ini, gila banget sih*
Aiman sat up. His reflection in the small mirror showed the same soft, boyish face: gentle eyes, full lips, the faint hint of a pious flush on his cheeks. He opened his mouth and the voice that came out was still soft, still respectful and would definitely fool anyone that listening at the door
“Subhanallah,” he murmured, exactly as the old Aiman would have. But his hand—Adi’s hand now—slowly slid down to feel beyond the torso, groping himself through the thin white fabric of his sleep pants.
He bit back a groan that would have sounded far too filthy for a pesantren graduate, talking about how Aiman is still a virgin that never even masturbated himself despite looking and built like a stud in a ripe age where most teen already dabbled in or started to explore a more sexually deviant act with themselves or their partner
*nnnNNGHHHH....fuck ngentot, badan semantep ini, masih perjaka pula, sinting, ini kelewat goblok enaknya,*
Then, the scream from next door. He smirked. That sounds like Yati's voice, he thought. Yati, the one neighbor that snooped around a bit too much but actually doing it out of her care towards others, he expected her to be the one who found his body, but not on the first day of it though, so guess he needs to start acting right away
---
Walking home after the burial, the sun warm on his back, Aiman’s steps are measured and humble. He greeted every neighbor with that soft smile, accepting condolences as if he truly mourned the dead man two doors down.
“Pak Adi pernah baik juga kok, meski jarang keliatan,” he said to one elder, voice dripping sincerity. Inside, the monologue only grew darker, hotter.
*Tai! Baik apanya—gue yang lama cuma mesum doang. Sekarang gue punya badan ini buat mesum seumur hidup tanpa ketahuan. Kampus bakal penuh godaan: cowok-cowok ganteng di masjid kampus yang lagi tahajud, cewek-cewek hijab yang gaunnya ketat pas sholat… gue bakal dekatin mereka semua sambil pura-pura suci. Kontol gue bakal ngenjot rahasia di kamar mandi masjid, di belakang perpustakaan, di kosan sambil mereka pikir gue lagi ngaji sendirian*
Right after the burial procession, Aiman's parents head to bed early due to exhaustion. Adi locked the bedroom door, stripped the white koko slowly, savoring every inch of exposed skin in the dim lamp light. Aiman’s body is a goddamn temple—smooth chest with faint abs from prayer postures, developed waist and just the right size of athletic hips, and between his legs, a thick, cut cock already leaking at the tip.
*Ngentot… lihat ini. Badan suci tapi kontolnya udah ngaceng gini cuma karena gue mikir tetangga sebelah yang suka main bola tanpa baju. Tai, otot perutnya itu lho, mantep banget emang si Juned*
He put the clothes back on as his mind intrigued to try on something. He knelt on the prayer mat exactly as last night when he first slammed into Aiman. A very broken form of sujud, legs folded, body spent, ass up in the air, eyes half-lidded and mouth agape. Making the move even more further from the right one, his right hand slipped through the waistline of both his pants and underwear as it wrapped around his cock, stroking slow and deliberate. Pre-cum slicked his palm as he pumped, hips rolling forward in tiny, controlled thrusts.
“Astaghfirullah…” he breathed aloud, soft and trembling, the words dripping with fake piety. Inside, total mania
"Pak Adi......stop Pak Adi.....saya santri baik.....jangan rusak saya dan buat saya mesum," he pleaded as he made his own dramatized reenactment of last night's takeover, now adding a bit of flavor by impersonating Aiman himself
"Pak Adi.....jangan buat saya coli dan berpikir mesum. Istighfar Pak Adi. Ada cara keluar lain. Saya bisa bantu. Saya bisa bantu.....saya bisa bantu dengan cara memberikan tubuh saya untuk kepuasanmu, yess Pak, bener.....masuk terus Pak, jangan berhenti. Rusak saya terus sampai ke otak saya. Masuk terus Pak, jangan berhenti. Memang Bapak paling pantes punya badan seperti ini, saya cuman bocah ingusan yang gak ngerti apa-apa, tapi bapak bisa bawa badan saya untuk melakukan hal-hal yang lebih luar biasa. Saya sekarang sudah ikhlas Pak,"
*Anjing, enak banget! Kontol Aiman ini sensitif gila—setiap goyang bikin gue mau muncrat. Gue bakal sangean tiap hari di balik topeng ini. Tai, bayangin gue pura-pura sujud padahal gue lagi coli kayak bocah sange ke dalem kondom padahal mereka lihatnya gue lagi sholat sunnah. HAHAHAH, goblok banget sih anjing, dosa bener mikir begitu. Hehe, dosanya yang nanggung Aiman kan ya Allah? Kan yang cabul Aiman. Yang sange Aiman. Adi mah udah mati kan, ini semua Aiman si santri yang mikir gini, aku emang sebetulnya diem-diem cabul, wong sempak sesama santri aja aku endus kayak ANJINGGGGHHHHHHH FFFUUCKKK MMMMPPHHHAAAGGHHHAHAHHA fuck......gila.....tolol banget lo Aiman, siapa sangka santri bisa sesange ini?*
The orgasm hit hard and quiet, all the monologues happened inside his own mind but it all feels so erotic and personal in Aiman's voice, making Adi unable to hold back and hit ropes after ropes of cum that eventually splattered the inside of his underwear and trousers. Aiman's form flopped to the mat because the sensation hit him a bit too hard, and that caused the soaked wet pants and underwear left an imprint of damp cum on the prayer mat’s edge. He wiped it clean with a tissue, whispering thanks to Allah like nothing happened, then crawled into bed with a wicked grin on Aiman’s innocent face, still wearing the soaked underwear and trousers like its a prized possession or something
Outside, the neighborhood settled into quiet mourning for the dead neighbor. Inside, the boy they all trusted smiled up at the ceiling, soft voice whispering a final, perfect “Alhamdulillah” for anyone who might be listening.
The old Adi is buried. The new Aiman only just begun. And the discreet, endlessly horny life hidden beneath the white koko is about to explode into something far bigger than anyone in the komplek can ever imagine.
This is my personal trainer and his name is Nut, and he originates from Thailand and works in America. He has been my personal trainer for two months after I went to the gym and he offered me his services.
I have always had a crush on him and couldn't focus properly every time I workout with him. I always wish that I could be together with him or at least be like him, since I'm just ordinary and not like him.
One day, I had just finished a two hour workout with him and was having a chat with him when I suddenly felt dizzy and fell onto the floor.
He immediately stood up and tried to wake me up.
"Tyler, hey, wake up! Oh, no." He tried to revive me but instead I found myself floating out of my own body.
When I looked down, I found myself transparent and floating. I found myself suddenly getting sucked in through Nut's mouth and everything went black.
The next thing I know, I slowly woke up and asked, "Nut, hey, where are you?" But then, something's wrong.
I felt myself be heavier than before and my voice matches exactly like Nut's. When I looked down, I saw that I was wearing Nut's clothes.
"Damn, I am now Nut..."
I then touched Nut's or now MY nipples and opened my clothes, checking out my new self in front of the mirror.
"Goddamnn, why do you always hide your hot abs in all your gym clothes? You need to flaunt it more, and with me now in you, you can flaunt it hehe."
I then realised where I was when I saw people staring and ran to the bathroom.
There, I explored my new body, from all the new muscles I now have to jerking off in the showers, not giving a care in the world if someone heard my moans.
Once done, I went outside where I was greeted by a man and he kissed me.
"Oh hey, babe. How was work? Ready for a date?" i was shocked before quickly smiling at him and kissed him back, "Never better, it feels like I'm renewed hehe."
"Oh come on, Dan. I know you've wanted him for so long, and I can tell just by your reaction." Adrian said, looking at me while grabbing his throbbing cock.
"Oh, you know all my fantasies about my brother, babe," I said to him, licking his nipples as he grabbed my hair.
Three Days Earlier...
I had found a ritual in a forbidden tome to summon an incubus, and decided to try it out in my bedroom.
After lighting a few black candles in a pentagram and reciting the incantation, the incubus appeared.
He then spoke in a deep voice, "Hello mortal, is it you that had summoned me?"
"Yes, and I want you to stay with me, I've been feeling lonely and I have been looking to experience pleasure," I answered him.
"Well then, I will fulfill your request, but I require a fitting vessel if I were to stay here," the incubus demanded, and I know just the person to be his vessel.
As if on cue, my brother, Walter, walks in from work.
"Hey, Sam, what are you doi--? What the, what the FUCK are you?!" Walter screams, seeing the demon standing on the pentagram.
I immediately nodded in Walter's direction, directing the incubus to possess him. Before Walter could run, the incubus teleported and stood in front of him.
He then put his hand on Walter's head, causing him to convulse violently as he feels his memories fade away, making him forget everything and also make him submissive to the demon.
He then tore open Walter's clothes and proceeded to open his mouth and turned himself into mist form, entering Walter's body through every hole in his body, from his ass, his ears, and his mouth.
Watching the whole scene play out has aroused my desires and I started to touch myself watching my brother be possessed as he started convulsing due to the invasion.
A few minutes later, he went still and suddenly stood up, walking over to me and kissed me hard.
"Hello, mortal... like the new body? Hehehe..."
Seeing him all naked had given me an instant hard on and the incubus seemed to notice, so he pulled me to the sofa and raised both of his arms.
"Why don't you go ahead and give your brother a good sucking?"
What followed was a night of fucking and being dominated by my brother as he tied me up to my bedpost and he fucked me for four hours straight into the morning.
In the present....
Ever since that night, the demon, now inside Walter, and I had become boyfriends and being unemployed has given me all the free time in the world to get fucked by him.
One time I asked him if the real Walter is still in there, and he said that once he took over, he had taken over Walter's soul, so he is far gone.
While I'm sad that I may have killed my brother, at least I have someone in my life, even though he is a demon
As he shows his plump ass commanding me to lick his ass, I crawled up to him, preparing for another session of hot fucking in his bedroom, finally happy with my current life.
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Jemin was sleeping on a swimming tube in his own pool when a man slowly approaches the pool and takes out a snake creature from out of his mouth and throws it into the pool.
The creature then made its way inside the pool and entered his body slipping into his pants.
The sudden invasion caused Jemin to jolt awake and trash around in the swimming tube. While convulsing, he saw the same man smiling a sinister grin at him as Jemin slowly lost consciousness as he feels the snake creature finally reach his brain.
The man, watching the whole thing happen before his eyes, was getting a hard on seeing Jemin get possessed by his alien slug.
Jemin's muscles tensed as he screamed out loud, "Please, someone help--" Before he suddenly went limp on the swimming tube.
Jemin then slowly wakes up but his eyes has turned milky white, signalling that Jemin is now gone and has been replaced by the alien creature.
He slowly exits the pool and approaches his master, saying, "Hi, master. Thank you for this amazing body. As you've commanded, I have consumed his brain and I am yours to use for your infinite pleasure."
The man, smiling wickedly at the new puppet he has acquired, then touched Jemin's nipples. "Well then, why don't we come to your bedroom and you can satisfy me with your mouth, then?"
In the man's room, Jemin is in his underwear as his Master started kissing him hard and for the rest of the night, their room is filled with sounds of moaning and fucking.
The next day, the alien inside Jemin, having read the real Jemin's memories, called his best friend to come over under the pretense of playing some video games while secretly, he was getting sucked off by his master.
Bryan was just driving home sad from a bad breakup when he caught the attention of an incubus named Matias.
When Matias saw Bryan, he immediately said, "Hmm, he has the perfect body and looks.... looks like he's the perfect vessel hehehe..."
Then he secretly followed, invisible to Bryan, until he reached home.
Once he reached home, he immediately went to his bedroom, took off his clothes and was gonna go cry his eyes out on his couch when he felt a sudden chill course through him.
The moment he looked up, Matias immediately got him in a chokehold.
"You're now MINE!" Matius said to Bryan before doing a spell to cast Bryan's soul out of his body.
When the spell started to take hold, Bryan could feel his soul beginning to travel up his throat and when it exited his mouth, his physical body fell onto the bed.
Then Matias took the soul stone in his hand and looked at it before crushing it in his hand, erasing the real Bryan out of existence.
"Now... where were we?"
Matias put his hands in Bryan's mouth and went inside his body, stretching his mouth wide like a costume as he popped his head inside.
Bryan's body continued to crack from all the stretching it needed to accomodate Matias' full takeover with no resistance from its previous owner.
Eventually, the possession was complete and Matius Brian grinned wickedly and pulled off his pants to see what he's working with.
When he saw his new growing bulge, he gave it a hard slap, and immediately cums due to the tension.
"Hehehe thank you Brian for the body. I will make use of your looks and take as many energy from guys as possible." He says as he licks all his cum.
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