Soooo sleeepyyy....

i’m such a faggot for loving this manly chest. i’m obsessed with grabbing them cause i’m just that gay for you. such a perfect faggot, i’m gonna fuck your chest and cum in your mouth. gonna latch on to your manly nipples and squeeze your perfect pecs.

Like imagine a social media influencer. She’s pretty, but not the scalpel-enhanced doll-pretty of the most popular on her website of choice. She doesn’t have the money for that, she’s never had the money for that, but what she does have is her grandfather’s grimoire. Despite all she’s clawed and scraped and kicked down ladders to get where she is, she does still have a soul and she’s willing to trade it for the perfect body.

She’s shocked when the demon tells her he doesn’t want it. Instead he holds up a single clawed finger.

“You have good bones, but I’ll need significant time to make the necessary adjustments. I want one year in full control of your body.”

She blinks at that, one year with a monster steering her around. She decides he’s probably some fucking pervert and shrugs. A year of ogling her own tits would be worth it if she hits 1 million by the end of it.

“Fine,” she agrees. “One year.”

As they shake on it, he melts into her skin and she begins her year as a passenger.

The demon begins a daily course of injections. Some glowing red shit she doesn’t figure would have any earthly counter part. He keeps posting to maintain her online presence. Lots of shots of them drinking pre work out, going to the gym. She hadn’t been a wellness influencer beforehand but she guessed it was fine, they were getting a decent amount of engagement. She tells the demon to lay off the creatine she doesn’t want to get too bulked up but he always just laughs and insists in her voice that he knows what he’s doing.

The panic hasn’t set in quite yet, that only comes when she helplessly watches her own thumb hover over the edit button of her bio.

“What are you doing?”

The demon clicks it. Removes her carefully crafted bio and replaces it with “need some time to think. Taking hiatus” before replacing her profile pic with a blank red circle and her screen name with a single period.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I’m moving to the next stage. We want them to think this was surgical not supernatural.” He says flatly. Tossing her phone on the couch as he finishes. She can’t help but notice her voice is huskier than it used to be. The explanation makes sense but she can’t help but feel like something’s wrong.

Even without being online they still go to the gym. They’re starting to get more and more stares. Looking at herself in the mirror as the demon exercises she can’t help but notice that her jawline has gotten sharper. Her cheek bones more prominent. It gives her hope. She’s going to look fucking snatched.

After the gym she watches him order a pair of clippers online.

“What are you planning to do with those.”

“Your hair is too damaged to work with properly.”

She desperately tries to wrench back control of her body.

“You’re going to make me bald?!”

“That’s part of why you’re going on hiatus. I’m giving you time to grow it back.” He assures her. Still she fights him every single day to no avail until the clippers come.

He sheers all of her hair off as if it’s nothing. It becomes nothing. Just a pile on the cut open garbage bag he had been using as a make shift tarp. He runs her hand over the remaining bristles and she wretches uncontrollably.

“Don’t be a baby,” he sneers. Her voice is definitely deeper.

He begins upping their dose to two injections per day and the changes start to become more radical, but he refuses to let her see. He begins covering every single mirror in her house and working out there to avoid her catching a glimpse in the gym mirrors. But even if she can’t see it she can still tell. At night she feels it as she lies awake but paralyzed. Her shoulders cracking, her ribs aching, the sharp pain in her shins. During the day she starts sleeping more often while the demon moves about. It’s easier to sleep when she isn’t in pain.

One day he walks them over to a mirror and wakes her up. She hardly has time to shake the rest from her mind before he whips the cover off. She doesn’t recognize what she sees until the figure in the mirror shifts the way her hand shifts gently turning his face so that she can see. She stumbles back and the demon lets her, ceding control. She’s grown strong lean muscles that complement her broad frame, her jawline is sharp and darkened with five o’clock shadow, her short dark hair is neatly combed away from her face, framing her harsh brow and piercing eyes, her breasts are completely gone. If she saw herself on tinder she’d say she had the perfect body, but the face in the mirror makes her scream.

It’s suddenly cut off as the demon takes back control. He stands, picks up her phone, takes a new profile picture and types up a new bio.

“What do you want your new user name to be?”

“FUCK YOU!!!”

He shrugs and types something new in himself, before drafting an announcement post.

“CHANGE ME BACK RIGHT NOW!”

“I can’t do that.” He answers calmly continuing to type. “I’m not done making your body perfect yet.” He hits post. “And even if I was, I still have 6 months.”

ohhhhhhhhh ohhhhh WAITER WAITER MOOORE POSSESSION FORCEMASCCCCC dude this is the first long scenario in a WHILEE that ive been sent on here thats making me crazy. 😋😋😋 thank youu

You're a dirty, gritty fucking man and if you don't accept it I'm going to have to start beating it into you. You fucking hear me? Now jerk it off and tell me how hard your dick is while you grind against my boot you fucking dog.