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This story is a sequel to The Exception

For three days after leaving Tom’s apartment, Brian moved through his life as though he had returned to a room where the air had gone stale.

His pickup still started reluctantly on cold mornings. His work calendar remained packed with calls he barely listened to. At home, the television filled the evenings while he and his wife sat at opposite ends of the couch, each pretending not to notice how little they had left to say to each other.

Nothing had changed on the outside - but his experience with Tom had changed him on the inside - and that was the problem.

(AI-Generated)

Tyler’s fascination with body-swapping wasn’t just a passing curiosity. It was a consuming obsession that had taken root three years ago when the government unveiled the groundbreaking technology to the world. 

The idea of shedding his skin, stepping into someone else’s body, and claiming their existence as his own became a fixation that haunted his every waking moment. He spent hours online, scouring forums and scientific journals, masturbating to the thought of inhabiting a stronger, taller, more powerful body. His classmates thought his endless chatter about swapping lives was just quirky banter. They had no idea how deep his perverse desires ran or how meticulously he’d begun to plan.

When the school announced a field trip to the National Institute of Swap Science, a gleaming monument to human potential, Tyler saw his chance. He campaigned relentlessly, convincing his teachers that the trip would be a transformative experience for the senior class. His enthusiasm was contagious, and soon the entire group of thirty students was buzzing with excitement. 

However, the field trip to the institute required a parent chaperone to assist Ms. Petunia, the overworked biology teacher tasked with wrangling the students. Fortunately, Tyler’s classmate Jack had a father, Clifford Donovan, who was free that day. 

Cliff was a construction manager in his mid-forties, a man whose rugged handsomeness turned heads. His broad chest, thick arms, and stubbled jaw radiated authority, and his bald head gleamed under the sun. Tyler had noticed him at school events, his eyes lingering on the man’s confident stride, his deep laugh, the way his work boots thudded against the ground.

When his classmate Jack suddenly fell ill with a fever the morning of the trip, Tyler’s pulse quickened. The stars were aligning.

—

At the institute, the tour began with a clinical precision that showcased the revolutionary technology within. Scientists in crisp white coats led the group through sterile corridors, explaining the intricacies of neural transfer with detached professionalism. The air hummed with the promise of transformation, and Tyler’s heart pounded as they approached the swap pods, sleek capsules that could rewrite reality in seconds. The students were to pair up for a temporary swap, a controlled demonstration to experience the technology’s power. 

With the ill Jack absent however, the group was left with an odd number, and Ms. Petunia hesitated, her brow furrowing as she scanned the room. Tyler seized the moment, his voice calm but his insides electric.

“Why don’t we let Mr. Donovan swap with someone? It’s only for an hour, and it’d be a waste for him to miss out.” His eyes locked onto Cliff, who shifted uncomfortably, his large hands flexing at his sides. 

The other students chimed in, their excitement overriding Cliff’s reluctance. After a moment, he nodded, his jaw tight. “Fine. But just for the demo.”

Tyler volunteered to swap with Mr. Donovan instantly, as it was his idea to begin with, his smile disarming but his mind racing with possibilities. 

The pods whirred to life, a low vibration filling the room as the swap initiated. Tyler felt a jolt, a fleeting sensation of falling through darkness, and then he was somewhere else. He opened his eyes, or rather, Cliff’s eyes, and stepped out of the pod. The world felt heavier, more grounded. His new body was tall, solid, the muscles dense under a layer of coarse hair. He ran his hands over his broad chest, feeling the weight of his pecs, the roughness of his stubble. His fingers brushed his bald head, the sensation sending a shiver of delight down his spine.

He glanced down, lifting the waistband of his pants to peek at the thick, veined cock nestled in a patch of dark hair. A wicked grin spread across his face, his new deeper voice rumbling in his throat. 

“Holy shit,” he whispered, savoring the sound.

Cliff, now in Tyler’s lanky teenage body, emerged from his pod looking disoriented, his movements awkward in the smaller frame. He caught Tyler’s grin and frowned, his high-pitched voice jarring. “Hey, cut that out! Stop touching my body like that. That's inappropriate.” 

Tyler just chuckled, his new voice rich and deep. “Relax, Mr. Donovan. I’m just getting the full experience. You should try it too.”

Cliff’s unease was palpable, his teenage face flushing, but he said nothing more as the tour continued.

The group moved through the institute, marveling at holographic displays of neural pathways and listening to lectures on synaptic mapping. Tyler barely paid attention though, too consumed by the sensations of his new body. Every step felt powerful, his work boots thudding against the floor. His hands kept wandering, brushing against his thighs, grazing his crotch, each touch sending sparks of pleasure through him.

He caught his reflection in a glass panel and paused, staring at the handsome, weathered face staring back. Cliff’s features were strong, his jaw square, his eyes a piercing blue. Tyler ran a hand over his bald head again, his cock twitching at the smooth sensation.

Cliff, in Tyler’s body, kept shooting him wary glances, his discomfort growing with every inappropriate touch. 

“Tyler, enough!” he hissed at one point, but Tyler just smirked, his new face radiating confidence.

The tour reached its midpoint in a darkened theater, where a documentary on the history of swap technology was to play. As the lights dimmed and the screen flickered to life, Tyler saw his opportunity. His heart pounded with a mix of nerves and exhilaration as he slipped out of his seat, moving silently through the shadows even in his bigger form. 

Cliff noticed a few minutes later, his parental instincts kicking in. He excused himself and followed, his sneakers squeaking faintly as he navigated the institute’s long corridors. The sound of deep, guttural groans stopped him cold outside the nearby public restrooms. His stomach churned as he pushed open the door, the air thick with the stench of sweat and cum, the groans growing louder, unmistakable in their rhythm. They were coming from the farthest stall.

Cliff’s hands trembled as he crept inside, his teenage body feeling frail and unsteady. He followed the noise, each grunt sending a chill through him. He climbed onto the toilet in the adjacent stall, balancing carefully as he peered over the partition. The sight that greeted him was a nightmare made flesh. 

There was Tyler, in Cliff’s body, completely naked. His clothes were discarded in a heap, his boots kicked aside. He stood in front of a phone propped against the stall wall, its camera recording every moment. His large hands roamed his stolen body with obscene worship, one gripping his thick, throbbing cock, stroking it with a slow, deliberate intensity. The other hand clawed at his hairy chest, fingers twisting the dark curls as he groaned. His bald head glistened with sweat, and his former face was twisted in a perverse ecstasy.

Tyler’s strokes were methodical at first, savoring every inch of his new cock, his thumb circling the swollen head, smearing precum across the tip.

“Fuck, this is better than I dreamed,” he muttered, his voice a low growl that echoed off the tiles. He leaned forward, spitting onto his cock, the saliva mixing with the precum to create a slick, obscene sound as he pumped faster. “This body… this fucking body… it’s mine now.” 

He reached down, cupping his heavy balls, rolling them in his palm as he groaned louder. “I’m never going back… Never! I’m Cliff Donovan now."

His strokes grew frenzied, his hips bucking as he fucked his own rugged hand, the stall shaking with his movements. He grabbed the phone, angling it to capture every detail, his voice dropping to a guttural whisper. “Look at this perfectly curved cock. Look at this ruggedly sexy face. This is me…Forever!”

Cliff’s horror rooted him to the spot, his hands gripping the partition as he watched Tyler defile his body. Tyler’s groans grew louder, more animalistic, as he spat again, the saliva dripping down his shaft and onto the floor. He smeared it across his cock, his movements sloppy and desperate, the wet sounds filling the stall. 

“I’m gonna live your life,” he growled, his eyes wild and frenzied. “Your wife, your job, your identity… all mine!”

His hand moved faster, his other clawing at his chest, leaving red marks in the hair. His body tensed, his breathing ragged, until he let out a primal roar, his cock erupting in thick, ropy streams of cum. The first spurt hit the phone, coating the screen, while the rest splattered across the stall door, dripping down in viscous trails.

Tyler’s knees buckled, his head thrown back in ecstasy, and then his eyes snapped open, locking onto Cliff’s.

For a moment, time stopped. Then Tyler’s lips curled into a slow, mischievous grin. He reached up, scooping a glob of cum from the stall door, and brought it to his mouth, licking it off his fingers with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving Cliff’s. 

“Like what you see?” he taunted, his voice dripping with malice. He grabbed the phone, stopping the recording, and began pulling on his pants, his movements casual despite the cum still dripping from his cock.

Cliff scrambled down, his teenage limbs clumsy, and bolted for the door. But Tyler was faster, his broad powerful body blocking the exit with ease.

His grin widened, a twisted mockery of Cliff’s usual warmth. “Where do you think you’re going, kid?”

—

Half an hour later, the tour group gathered in the pod room to reverse the swaps. Suddenly, the father Cliff burst into the room, sweat streaming down his bald head, his hands stained with blood. 

“Help!” he shouted, his voice hoarse with feigned panic. “It’s Tyler! We were in the bathroom, and he slipped… cracked his head! I-I think he’s dead!” 

The room erupted in chaos. Ms. Petunia and the tour guide rushed to follow him, the students whispering in shock. Cliff led them to the bathroom, where Tyler’s body lay crumpled, a pool of blood spreading from a gash on his head. His story poured out in a rush, of how he and Tyler had gone to the bathroom during the documentary. As Cliff, in Tyler’s body, stepped out of the stall, he’d slipped on a wet patch, hitting his head. Fortunately enough for him, the impact had somehow reversed the swap, his mind snapping back into his own body. 

By the time he woke up, back in his own adult body, he’d found Tyler unconscious on the floor. He tried CPR, but it was too late.

The tour guide, pale and shaken, called for medical assistance while the scientists ushered the students back to the pods. The remaining swaps were reversed, and the institute’s staff ran tests on Cliff, confirming his mind was intact and his story plausible. The lack of cameras in the bathroom, a privacy measure, left no evidence to contradict him. 

Tyler’s body was pronounced dead once the police came, his death ruled an accident caused by a fall. Cliff was taken to the police station, where he recounted the same story with practiced grief, his blue eyes glistening with crocodile tears. The investigators, finding no inconsistencies, released him that evening.

Cliff drove home in silence, the weight of his new reality a heady mix of triumph and secrecy. His wife, Ellen, and son, Jack, greeted him with concern, having heard fragments of the tragedy. Cliff hugged them tightly, his large hands lingering on their shoulders, savoring the warmth of his family. Over dinner, he recounted the “accident” with a mournful tone, his voice steady despite the glee bubbling beneath. 

“It was awful,” he said softly, his eyes downcast. “Please, let’s not talk about it anymore. I need some time alone.”

Ellen squeezed his hand, and Jack nodded, their faces etched with sympathy. After kissing them both on the forehead, Cliff retreated to his office, locking the door with a soft click.

—

Alone at last, Cliff sat behind the oak desk, his reflection staring back from a small mirror. He held the mask of grief for a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes somber. Then, like a switch flipping, his face split into a gleeful, manic chuckle, his blue eyes blazing with unadulterated joy.

“Clifford Arthur Donovan,” he whispered, the name a delicious weight on his tongue. He ran his hands over his stubbled cheeks, the coarse hair sending shivers through him. 

“Yes, Sir,” he mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It was a horrific accident. Absolutely, Sir.”

But he knew the truth. In that bathroom, he had surrendered to his darkest temptations, orchestrating a permanent swap by ensuring Tyler’s body would never wake again. The violence had been swift, calculated, the blood on his hands a small price to pay for this body, this life. Every moment since had been pure ecstasy; the lies he’d told, the touches he’d stolen, the weight of this mature, powerful form.

He couldn’t hold back any longer. With a savage urgency, he tore off his shirt, buttons scattering across the floor. His pants followed, ripped open with a ferocity that left the zipper mangled. His broad, hairy chest heaved as he ran his hands over it, fingers digging into the thick muscle, twisting the dark curls until his skin burned red.

He gripped his cock, already rock-hard, and began stroking with a violence that shook the desk. His other hand clawed at his chest, ripping out clumps of hair, the pain mingling with pleasure in a dizzying rush. He spat onto his cock, the saliva mixing with precum as he pumped faster, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet office. He leaned forward, staring into the mirror, watching Cliff’s face contort with feral intensity. 

“This is mine,” he growled, his voice a guttural snarl. “All mine! I’m Clifford Arthur Donovan now… and this is my body, my life, my perfectly thick cock! Forever!”

His strokes grew faster, his hips bucking as he fucked his hand, the chair creaking under his weight. He grabbed his balls, squeezing them hard, the pain pushing him closer to the edge. His other hand roamed his body, stroking his bald head, clawing at his thighs, leaving red marks in its wake.

His moans filled the room, growing louder, more desperate, until they became screams. “This is me! My body! Forever and ever!!!”

His body convulsed, his back arching so violently the chair groaned, threatening to snap. His cock erupted in a torrent of cum, thick ropes shooting across the desk, splattering the mirror, dripping onto the floor. The release kept coming, wave after wave, his legs spasming uncontrollably, his vision blurring as he rode the orgasm to its brutal end.

Panting, sweat pouring down his bald head, Cliff smeared the cum across his chest, rubbing it into his skin like a ritual. He scooped a glob from the desk and brought it to his mouth, sucking it off his fingers with a moan, the taste sending another shudder through him.

He stared at his reflection, stroking his stubble with a wicked, blissful grin. His cock still throbbed, twitching with aftershocks, and he gave it a slow, deliberate stroke, savoring the sensitivity.

“Clifford Arthur Donovan,” he whispered, the name a vow. He would play the role perfectly. A loving husband, a proud father, a real man, until his very last breath.

Days later, an envelope arrived from the institute, containing a letter and a hefty check. The message was clear: keep the incident quiet to protect the institute’s funding. Cliff, with no intention of awaking suspicion, accepted the payment and buried the secret deep. Months turned to years, and the truth of what happened in that bathroom faded into oblivion. Cliff Donovan lived on, his perverse claim and true identity hidden behind a ruggedly handsome smile. His stolen life and body a deception that would remain a secret forever...

(AI Generated - A spin-off from my story last month, set in the same universe of The Mogui’s Curse. Enjoy!)

The sun blazed over the turquoise waters of the island resort, its golden rays shimmering on the waves as laughter and music filled the air. I was a 22-year-old college student on summer break, soaking in the carefree chaos with my group of friends. We’d rented a beach villa at this sprawling resort, a paradise of palm trees, white sand, and endless parties. The days blurred into a haze of tequila shots, beach volleyball, and late-night skinny dipping, our laughter echoing through the humid nights. I was the quiet one in the group, always a bit self-conscious about my smooth, hairless body and the constant pressure to stay in shape. My friends, a mix of jocks and socialites, didn’t share my insecurities, their confidence as bold as their sunburns.

The resort wasn’t just for college kids like us. Families filled the grounds, their kids splashing in the pool while parents sipped cocktails under umbrellas. One family caught our attention during a family party night in the resort’s open-air pavilion. A Middle-Eastern family, their voices loud and warm, danced to the live band’s music.

The father stood out, a big, burly man with a thick, hairy frame that seemed to take up twice the space of anyone around him. He was dancing with his kids, his chunky arms wrapped around them, his laughter booming over the music. His body was a forest of dark hair, covering his broad chest, arms, and legs, the hair so dense it looked like a pelt. His belly jiggled as he moved, a soft mound of flesh that spoke of indulgence rather than neglect. His face was almost hidden behind a lush, black beard, streaked with strands of gray, and his thick, tousled brown hair matched the wildness of his appearance. Despite his size, his brown eyes sparkled with a kind, carefree joy that I envied.

My friends couldn’t help but snicker, whispering among themselves as we sat at a nearby table, our drinks sweating in the heat. 

“Look at that guy,” one of them, a wiry guy named Jake, muttered, stifling a laugh. “He’s like a walking bear rug. Bet he sweats buckets under all that hair.” 

Another friend, a blonde girl named Sarah, giggled, leaning in. “Can you imagine how heavy he must be? All that hairy, sweaty flesh… gross.” 

They laughed, their voices low but cruel, and I forced a chuckle, my cheeks burning with shame. I didn’t say much, my silence a shield for the secret I kept buried deep. I was still in the closet, my attraction to men a quiet ache I’d never shared. And truthfully, I found the father attractive in a way that made my stomach twist with jealousy. His carefree confidence, his unapologetic embrace of his thick, hairy body, was everything I wished I could be. I hated how self-conscious I felt about my smooth, lean frame, always obsessing over staying in shape to fit some ideal I could never quite reach.

The night wore on, and I drank more than I intended, the tequila shots blurring the edges of my thoughts. The music pulsed through the pavilion, the jovial father spinning his kids around, his hairy arms flexing with each lift, his laughter a deep rumble that carried over the crowd. I watched him from the corner of my eye, my friends’ mocking whispers fading as I lost myself in the sight of him. 

Then, the need to relieve myself grew urgent, and I stumbled toward the restroom, my head spinning from the alcohol. I pushed through the door, my vision hazy, and collided with a solid, warm wall of flesh. It was the Middle-Eastern father, shirtless and glistening with sweat, his hairy chest pressing against me as he too hurried to pee. The impact knocked the breath from me, and I stumbled back, my hands instinctively bracing against his broad torso.

“Whoa there, my friend!” he boomed, his voice deep and jovial, his brown eyes crinkling with a drunken grin. He was clearly tipsy, his movements loose and carefree. “Looks like we both had too much fun out there!” 

Before I could apologize, he pulled me into a warm, sweaty hug, his thick arms enveloping me, the heat of his body radiating through me. I stiffened at first, surprised by the sudden intimacy, the coarse hair of his chest brushing against my smooth skin, his musk a heady mix of sweat and spice that clung to my cheek. But as the hug lingered, I felt myself relax, leaning into it, my face pressed against his damp flesh, the scent intoxicating. 

I couldn’t help my curiosity, my hands wandering as I squeezed his thick dad bod, feeling the soft bulk of his belly, the dense hair crinkling under my fingers, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to my own. The sensation sent a shiver through me, a secret thrill I couldn’t deny. He felt my hands exploring, and with a hearty laugh, he released me, stepping back with a playful grin.

“No touching, eh? This is mine,” he teased, running his rugged hands across his hairy, thick chest, the motion emphasizing his unapologetic confidence.

I nodded, my face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and admiration, my eyes unable to look away from his bold display. He brushed past me, heading to one of the urinals, sliding down his shorts with a casual ease. I stood there, frozen, as his thick, juicy ass came into full view, the hair dusting the cheeks catching the dim light, the flesh bouncing slightly with his movement. Even more so when he reached around to scratch it, his fingers digging into the soft mounds, the ass jiggling playfully as if to seduce me. 

I was lost in the thought of touching those juicy mounds of flesh, my mind racing with forbidden fantasies, the image searing into my memory. I didn’t even notice when he finished, washing his hands with a quick splash of water before turning to me with a smile. He placed one of his large, rugged hands on my shoulder, the touch warm and firm, before brushing past me to rejoin his family at the party.

I returned to my friends, my mind a whirl of conflicting emotions, the memory of his hairy chest and thick ass lingering like a forbidden secret. I couldn’t stop imagining what it would feel like to be so free in a body like his, to carry that confidence with every step. The night ended with me and my friends stumbling back to our villa, the image of the hairy daddy etched into my thoughts as I drifted into a restless sleep.

—

A few nights later, the resort suddenly descended into chaos. It started with a scream, sharp and piercing, cutting through the hum of the evening crowd. I was at the resort’s main plaza with my friends, a sprawling open area lined with palm trees and string lights, the air thick with the scent of grilled seafood and coconut sunscreen. We’d been drinking, our laughter loud as we played a drunken game of truth or dare, when the first scream rang out. More followed, a chorus of terror as people began to flee, their faces pale, their voices shouting about a monster skinning humans alive and devouring them. The crowd surged around us, families grabbing their kids, couples sprinting toward the beach, their footsteps pounding against the cobblestones.

My friends froze, their drunken haze giving way to confusion. 

“What the hell is going on?” Sarah asked, her voice trembling as she clutched Jake’s arm. 

Before anyone could answer, a jock in our group, a broad-shouldered guy named Tyler, scoffed, his arrogance unshaken. “It’s probably some stupid event, like a haunted house thing. Let’s go check it out.”

I hesitated, my gut telling me to run, but Tyler’s confidence was infectious, and the group followed him deeper into the plaza, toward the source of the screams. I trailed behind, my heart pounding, my flip-flops slapping against the stone path.

We reached the center of the plaza, a wide clearing with a fountain at its heart, and stopped dead in our tracks. A pile of human skins lay discarded on the ground, their empty, glistening forms illuminated by the flickering string lights. The skins were intact, their faces frozen in expressions of horror, their limbs limp and hollow. Standing over the pile was a grotesque creature, its bony, clawed limbs glistening with a sickly sheen, its hollow black eyes glinting in the dim light. Its maw of jagged teeth dripped with blood as it devoured a quivering mass of flesh, the sound of its chewing wet and sickening.

It was a mogui, a skin-stealing ghoul that devoured humans and wore their skins to blend in. I’d only just happened to read about them in high school after I had to pick a random course during my second year and thus chose ancient mythology.

Tyler didn’t even have time to react. The mogui leapt onto him with a guttural snarl, its claws sinking into his shoulders as it pinned him to the ground. 

“What the fuck!” Tyler screamed, his voice high with panic as the creature grabbed his mouth and pulled. 

His skin stretched like latex, the sound a wet, tearing pop as the mogui yanked it over his head, peeling him alive in a single, fluid motion. Tyler’s screams turned to gurgles as his flesh was exposed, his body a quivering mass of muscle and blood, and the mogui devoured him whole, its jagged teeth tearing into his raw form with savage hunger. My friends screamed, scattering in all directions, their footsteps fading as they fled.

I tried to run, my legs heavy with terror, but I was too close. The mogui grabbed me from behind, its clawed hand wrapping around my throat, lifting me off the ground with effortless strength. I kicked and thrashed, my hands clawing at its bony arm, but its grip was irontight. 

“No, please!” I begged, my voice a desperate sob as tears streamed down my face. 

The mogui’s hollow eyes bored into mine, its rancid breath hot on my face, a mix of decay and blood that made me gag. It shoved its other clawed hand down my throat, its bony fingers wrapping around my tongue, the pain searing as its claws scraped against the inside of my mouth. I gagged, my lungs burning, my body convulsing as it pulled, a sickening tug radiating from my throat to my gut. With a violent yank, it drew my entire flesh out through my mouth, peeling me like a fruit, the sensation a ripping, tearing agony as my skin separated from my body. My skin came free in a single, intact piece, the sound a wet, sucking pop, and the mogui threw me to the ground, my exposed flesh hitting the cobblestones with a sickening thud, blood splattering around me.

It tossed my skin onto the pile, the empty shell of my face staring back at me, and turned to devour me, its jagged teeth glinting with hunger. But before it could strike, gunfire erupted, a group of security guards charging into the plaza, their weapons blazing. Bullets tore into the mogui, its grayish skin oozing black ichor as it roared in fury, dropping me to the ground as it fled, its heavy footsteps echoing into the night. 

The guards chased after it, their shouts fading as they assumed I was already dead, my raw, bleeding form motionless on the cobblestones.

I felt myself slipping, my consciousness fading as blood pooled beneath me, the pain a white-hot inferno that consumed every thought. Every movement was torture, the cool night air searing my raw nerves, my vision swimming with black spots. But a primal instinct to survive surged within me, a desperate, animalistic drive that overpowered the pain. I dragged myself across the plaza, my exposed flesh scraping against the stone, leaving a thick trail of blood in my wake. 

Each movement was agony, my muscles screaming, my vision blurring, but I reached the pile of skins, my trembling hands fumbling through the slick, warm pile, searching for my own. My mind was disoriented, my eyes blurry with tears and blood, and I grabbed what I assumed was my skin, the weight heavy in my hands as I pulled it toward me.

I was too weak to think clearly, my body trembling with shock as I slipped my raw arms into the skin, the flesh yielding with a wet squelch. The inside was slick and warm, the musk unfamiliar, a heavy, masculine scent that wasn’t my own. I pushed deeper, my raw legs sliding into the skin, the heat suffocating as I pulled it over my torso, the flesh stretching to accommodate my form. 

It was only when I was fully inside, the skin too big, the weight too heavy, that I realized something was wrong. The limbs were too thick, the torso too broad, and the musk was overpowering, a mix of sweat, spice, and raw masculinity that didn’t belong to me. But it was too late. The mogui’s magic took hold, the skin tightening around me with a series of sickening cracks, my raw flesh expanding to fill the new form, bones stretching, muscles swelling, my insides becoming flesh and bone as they fused with the skin I’d chosen. The sensation was a mix of pain and perverse intimacy, the skin molding to me like a lover’s embrace, sealing me inside with a final, wet snap.

I blacked out, my consciousness slipping into darkness, the weight of my new body pulling me under.

—

I woke up half an hour later in the resort’s infirmary, the sterile scent of antiseptic sharp in my nose, the hum of fluorescent lights overhead. I was lying on a narrow bed, a thin blanket draped over me, my body heavy and unfamiliar. Voices murmured outside the room, a security guard and a nurse speaking in low tones. 

“The monster escaped,” the guard said, his voice tense. “Wore one of the dead guard’s skins and drove off on a boat. We couldn’t catch it.” 

The nurse sighed, her tone solemn. “At least we saved one. He’s awake now.”

They entered the room, the guard a broad-shouldered man with a shaved head, the nurse a petite woman with tired eyes. The guard forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Happy you survived, sir. Wasn’t easy carrying you over here, considering how much bigger you are than me.” 

I blinked, confusion clouding my mind. The guard was obviously bigger and stronger than me, his muscles straining against his uniform. I tried to speak, my throat dry, but the nurse cut in, her expression solemn. “You’re probably wondering where your family is... I’m so sorry, we couldn’t save them.” 

I stared at her, my mind reeling. I had no family here, just my friends. “What are you talking about?” I croaked, my voice deep and gruff, unfamiliar to my ears. 

They exchanged a glance, the nurse patting my arm gently. “You’re in shock. It’s okay, just get some rest.” 

They left, closing the door behind them, leaving me alone with my confusion.

I noticed an unfamiliar wallet on the desk beside me, its leather worn and scratched. I reached for it, my hand heavy and sluggish, and froze as I saw my arm. It was thick, muscular, and covered in a dense mat of dark hair, the skin a warm olive tone that wasn’t mine. Panic surged through me as I flicked the wallet open, revealing an ID card. The photo showed the Middle-Eastern father from the family party night, his lush beard and kind brown eyes staring back at me. His name was written on the card: Joseph Arslan, age 47.

My heart pounded as I pulled the blanket off, revealing a body that wasn’t mine. My chest was broad and thick, covered in a pelt of dark hair that trailed down to a soft, chubby belly. My legs were massive, the hair so dense it looked like fur, and my hands were large and rugged, the fingers thick with calluses.

Realization crashed over me like a wave. I hadn’t crawled into my own skin. I’d accidentally chosen Joseph’s, the burly father we’d mocked, his hairy, chunky body now mine. 

I stumbled out of the bed, my weight heavy and strange, my center of gravity off as I scrambled to the sink in the corner of the room, a small mirror hanging above it. The face staring back was Joseph’s, his lush beard covering most of his face, the black hair streaked with gray, his thick, tousled brown hair wild and unkempt. His brown eyes, kind but now wide with shock, looked back at me, the reflection a stranger’s.

“Oh my God, no… this isn’t me,” I whispered, my voice a deep, rumbling growl that echoed in the small room. I ran my hands over my face, the beard coarse under my fingers, the hair tugging at my skin as I pulled, hoping to find a seam, a way out. But the skin was fused to me, the mogui’s magic binding me to this new form.

I turned to the nurse, my voice rising in panic. “This is a mistake! I’m not Joseph! I’m a college student, my name is Ryan! The monster… it took my skin, and I… I put on the wrong one!” 

The nurse and guard exchanged a look, their expressions a mix of pity and disbelief.

“Sir, you’re in shock,” the nurse said softly, her tone placating. “You’ve been through a lot. Your family… we couldn’t save them. It’s natural to feel confused.”

I shook my head, my beard swaying with the motion. “I don’t have a family here! I’m here with friends! You have to believe me!” 

But they didn’t, their eyes filled with sympathy as they urged me to rest. Infuriated, I ignored their advice, storming out of the infirmary, my heavy footsteps echoing down the hall, the weight of Joseph’s body a constant reminder of my new reality.

—

I made my way back to the beach villa my friends and I had rented, the night air cool against my skin, the resort eerily quiet after the chaos. The villa was trashed, furniture overturned, windows shattered, the remnants of the mogui’s rampage evident in every corner. My friends were gone, either fled or devoured, their absence a hollow ache in my chest. 

I went to my room, my suitcase still on the bed, and stripped off the hospital gown, the thin fabric falling to the floor. I tried to wear my old clothes, pulling on a pair of skinny jeans that strained against my thick, hairy legs, the denim refusing to stretch over my massive thighs. I tugged on a T-shirt, the fabric tight against my broad, hairy back, the seams creaking as I moved. 

I glanced at a nearby mirror, and the sight was absurd: a hairy, thick bear of a man trying to fit into a college boy’s clothes, the shirt barely covering my hairy belly, the jeans stuck halfway up my thighs.

I brought my thick arms up, flexing my biceps, the muscle bulging under the dense hair, and the T-shirt ripped apart with a loud tear, the fabric falling to the floor in tatters. 

“Holy shit,” I muttered, my deep voice startling me as I stared at my reflection. The hair on my arms was so thick, the olive skin stretched taut over my new bulk. I ran my hands over my chest, the hair crinkling under my fingers, the sensation both shocking and exhilarating. 

“This body… it’s so big, so hairy,” I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and arousal. I looked down, my eyes widening at the sight of my new cock, massive and engorged, the thick shaft covered in a nest of dark hair at the base. It was uncircumcised, the foreskin heavy and warm, and it throbbed with a need I couldn’t ignore.

I kicked away the skinny jeans, knowing I’d never fit into them again, and lay on the bed in my full, hairy nakedness, the mattress creaking under my weight.

“I’m really stuck like this… I’m Joseph now,” I murmured, my voice a deep rumble as I grabbed my new cock with my rugged fingers, the calluses rough against the sensitive skin. I stroked slowly at first, the sensation overwhelming, my entire body humming with pleasure and desire.

“God, this cock… it’s so thick, so heavy,” I moaned, my other hand reaching up to tug at my beard, the hair coarse and thick, the slight pain of pulling at it mingling with the pleasure radiating from my groin. I jerked harder, my deep, gruff moans filling the room, the sound primal and raw, a stark contrast to the voice I’d known my whole life.

I pulled at the foreskin fiercely, the sensation intense, and tugged at my beard with more force, hoping to loosen the heavy, hairy skin around me, to find a way out. 

“Maybe I can get out… maybe I can peel this off,” I grunted, my voice strained as I yanked at the hair, the follicles ripping free with a stinging pain that only heightened my arousal. But the skin didn’t budge, the mogui’s magic holding it fast, and the realization that I was trapped in this thick daddy’s identity for good drove me over the edge.

“I’m stuck… I’m wearing this hairy flesh… I’m him,” I growled, my voice rising as I exploded, cum shooting everywhere, thick ropes splattering across my hairy chest, some getting tangled in my beard, the musky scent of Joseph’s essence filling the air.

I lay there, spent and panting, my hairy, sweaty body glistening in the dim light of the villa. The future was uncertain, the mogui still out there, wearing a new skin, its whereabouts unknown. But as I ran my hands over my new body, feeling the coarse hair, the soft bulk of my belly, I realized something had shifted inside me. I didn’t feel self-conscious anymore. With a body this hairy and chunky, I didn’t care what others thought, as long as I enjoyed it myself. 

“Maybe this isn’t a curse,” I murmured, my deep voice soft as I traced the hair on my chest, the sensation grounding me in my new reality. “Maybe this is a blessing in disguise...” 

I closed my eyes, the weight of Joseph’s body a comforting presence, and drifted into a dreamless sleep, my new identity a strange, perverse gift I was only beginning to understand.

Another day of freshman year at university down and I felt just as exhausted as every other day. Hours of lectures, assignments, to finally get to go home just to have to do more schoolwork. I needed a break so I walked down the street to my friend Zach’s house. We had been friends since I could remember, even now we were going to the same university and taking the same classes. I had been over to his house so much that his parents were almost like my secondary parents. I knock on the door and Zach answers. “You here to work on that Sociology paper?” He asks seeming slightly let down. “Hell no, I need a break from all that college stuff, wanna play some video games?” I reply in a defeated tone. He seemed to empathize, almost as if he’d been feeling the same way. “I was hoping you’d say that, come on man.” He says with a smile and lets me in.

I walk inside, Mr. Jacobs was sitting in his chair like he usually was after he got home from work, dressed in his usual polo shirt and khaki pants, hair gelled to the side like it had been for the last 15 years. I start to wonder, would it be easier to live a life like that? A life already set in stone, a steady good paying job that ended once he got home, being a respected member of society, people looking at you with respect, a wife and 3 kids that loved you, the typical easy going dad life. “Hey Zach I’ll meet you upstairs in a minute.” I say as he heads up to his room. “Alright, don’t be too long, I gotta beat you in smash again.” He teases as he walks to his room.

I approach Mr. Jacobs to ask about what had been on my mind. He notices me, puts down his newspaper and smiles at me in that reassuring dad look that made it seem like everything would be alright. “Hey buddy, somethin on your mind kiddo?” He asks in a way only a concerned dad ready to help out could. “It’s been a tough semester Mr. Jacobs.” I reply. “I’m sorry buddy, I’ve noticed Zach has been struggling a little bit too. My first semester at college was a bit rough too, but it all paid out in the end to set up the future I wanted, and plus I ended up making some of the best memories I ever had there. It’s where I met my wife.” He said reassuringly.

“I wanted to ask you” I paused for a second, unsure how to form my words or how it would sound to him. “Does it get easier? It’s been real hectic recently and it doesn’t seem to be changing anytime soon, but your life seems so amazing. You have a great job, an amazing family, you’re respected, you always seem so happy, like you beat life and have everything you could ever want. To be honest with you sir, it’s envious and I want that exact type of life you have, to be just like you, you’ve always been a great mentor and I really look up to you, but it seems so unattainable.” This response from me made him smile. “Well thank you Jack. Yeah my I love my job, my family, and the life we built. I’m glad I’ve been even remotely good enough for you to look up to me as a mentor. And I would say it does get easier, once you have things settled and figured out.” This is about what I expected to hear, that it gets better but not anytime soon. “But” he interjected, “It’s not as good as you may think. Don’t get me wrong I love my family, and our life, but it does get repetitive. Going to work, coming home, raising a family, nothing more to work towards, and plus getting older means more random pains.” He adds chuckling slightly. “Even though it was rough at times, I would absolutely go back and do it all again, to be able to run wild, go out and party all night with no repercussions. It’s something a lot of young people take advantage of Jack. Dare I say I’d even trade places with ya.” He sits back in his chair and takes a sip of his coffee.

This response stunned me, he wanted to go back? Even more shocking, he’d trade places with me? That sounded like a dream that unfortunately could never come true. “You’d…..trade places with me?” I respond confused.

“Well yeah, you got your whole life ahead of you buddy, a world of possibilities. A life of memories to make, you’re so young and can do anything, even if there is some difficulty still in the near future.” I couldn’t even process that he was serious, I thought he was just saying that to make me feel better. “It’s interesting you’d say you’d swap places with me since, well I would absolutely trade places with you in a heartbeat sir.”

He put down his coffee and raised an eyebrow. “Really?” He says intrigued. “Well absolutely, you have this amazing life already figured out, you have a job I’d want, you have a family I would love, an amazing house I’d take care of, what’s not to want?” He stares at me with a smile on his face, almost as if something he’d been waiting for had finally happened. He got up from his chair, walked over to a cupboard in the living room, dress shoes clacking on the floor. He opens the cupboard and pulls out an ancient looking locked box and pulls a key out of his pocket. He opens the box, takes out an old looking coin, puts the box back and sits back down in front of me.

“What’s that sir?” I ask intrigued. “This Jack, is a swap coin.” He replies. “A swap coin?” I ask confused. “Yep, it’s been passed down through my family for multiple generations. The family legend is it allows two people to swap bodies, and gaining access to their memories. I’ve never used it but that’s the story my dad told me, his dad told him, and so on.” I thought this sounded insane but he was dead serious. What did he bring this out for? Then it clicked, he was dead serious. “Wait….you actually want to….” I say unable to form the words. “Yep, with as much as you say you want my life, I wouldn’t mind trading bodies for a while, maybe even permanently.” I couldn’t even wrap my head around this. Everything I ever wanted was right here this whole time and all I had to do was ask Mr. Jacobs? “Are you sure you’re ready to give up all this?” I ask him, I wanted his life no doubt but he had more to lose than me, a wife and kids, a career, a life he’d been building for 46 years. “I’m certainly ready to give it a try, we can swap back at anytime. I say we give it a month, then meet back up and discuss if we want to swap back or not.”

I couldn’t even contain my happiness. “I’m all in sir!” I told him excitedly. “A few rules now Jack.” He said in his stern dad tone. I perked up and listened intently, keen to not ruin this opportunity. “You mustn’t tell anyone about the swap, not the kids, my wife, anyone at my job, your family, anything.” I nod in understanding. “The coin will give you my memories, so you will be able to act as me seamlessly. Let’s agree for this first month to not to anything too crazy, obviously we’re doing this to experiment, but let’s hold off on any of the crazy shenanigans until we decide if we want to permanently swap or not.” He finishes. “Yes sir” I respond.

He places the coin in his hand. “To swap, both of us must be firmly touching it. Just shake my hand when you’re ready.” I was shaking with excitement. I thought of my parents, Zach, college, my future. It almost made me want to go back, I reminded myself it wasn’t permanent and that it was only a month commitment. I braced myself, outstretched my hand, and shook Mr. Jacobs hand firmly. Everything went black.

When I woke up, I thought it was time to get ready for class, it felt like I’d just had a deep night sleep. But I woke up in the same place I was, well almost. I felt a little dizzy, but still something was off. I put my hand on my head and immediately remembered. Oh my god, it worked. When my hand touched my head immediately felt the cold from the wedding band now on my hands, signaling my new 25 year marriage. I also felt my hand collide with the glasses I now wore. And lastly, I felt the gel used to comb my hair to the side. I looked down, and there it was, there I was. The same polo shirt, khaki pants, and dress shoes that Mr. Jacobs- that I always wore. I looked at the floor and saw my old body get up off the floor and sit on the couch, examining his new self.

“It worked!” I exclaimed, my voice now much deeper, one of the many things I was starting to like about my new body. “It sure did” my old body replied. Mr. Jacobs stood up in my old body, “man it’s been forever since I’ve felt this nimble” he says happily. “Hope you enjoy it JACK, I’m certainly enjoying this already.” I replied, calling him by my name to try and get used to our new roles, which made him smile. Zach came downstairs “dude are you coming or what? Don’t try to duck me now! You two discussing the meaning of life or something?” He joked. “Sorry son” I replied in my deep voice. It felt so strange to call my best friend my son, and even stranger that he actually was, and that we were no longer best friend but now father and son. “Jack was just looking for some advice. You should get up there Jack.” I said winking at my old body. “Alright I’m coming! And I’m totally gonna kick your ass- oh, sorry for swearing Mr. Jacobs.” He replied, playing my role very well. “It’s alright Jack, you boys let me know if you’re hungry and I’ll make dinner.” I added, eager to play out my new dad role. “Thanks Mr. Jacobs.” My old body replied. “Any time Jack.” I replied with a smile as my old body as my new son headed upstairs.

As the door closed I let out a breath of relief and continued examining my new body. My polo was drenched, I assume from the swap. I got up, almost stinking getting used to Mr. Jacobs- my new height and weight. Going from 5’7 145lbs to 6’2 200lbs was a big change, but definitely a welcome one. I walked up stairs, loving the sound of my dress shoes clacking on the floor, the sound of Mr. Jacobs walking around his house corresponding to my movements. I walked into my new bedroom, I hesitated for a second, but then remembering it was now mine and no longer an off limits area of the house. I walked inside, getting immense pleasure from the fact that my new tall frame barely fit under the door frame. I stripped my shirt off and tossed it in the dirty clothes hamper, then headed to the bathroom to dry off. I took my towel off the hanger but stopped before drying myself off. There Mr Jacobs stood, no, there I, Kevin Jacobs stood. I had always seen Mr. Jacobs as a father figure, never realizing how good looking he was. And now here I was in his body, shirtless. I stared into the mirror at my salt and pepper hair, my dad attire, and best of all, my hairy and surprisingly muscular chest.

I couldn’t help but put my hands on my new pecs and feel down my abs. It almost felt wrong, but it was my body now so why not? Every inch of skin and hair that brushed against my hands felt like heaven. I was basically a hairless twig in my old body, but now? This was a man’s body, and boy was it good. I was unable to take my eyes off the mirror, locking eyes with my new reflection, staring into my own brilliant blue eyes as I explored every inch of this new perfect body. As I did, I noticed something tight, I felt down and realized, my body was enjoying this. When my hand touched my pants I felt a massive cock. Around 10 inches if I had to guess. “Holy shit” I said to myself. It was weird to hear Mr. Jacobs curse, he never did, as he was an avid church member and never wanted to swear around his kids. But there was no other word for what I had found. Even just touching it felt blissful. I was about I explore further until I heard the bus outside and remembered. Cody, my new 7 year old sun should be getting home around this time. I dried off quickly, ran to the closet which was full of very formal clothes, took one of the many polos off the hanger and tucked it into my pants. Not my usual style, but hey I had to dress the part. I ran downstairs and opened the door, walking briskly and confidently towards the bus stop, as if I was a dad and belonged out here with all the other parents. I saw one of Mr. Jacob’s friends, Mr. Hawthorne, or Andy I guess I’d call him now, standing there with his daughter and Cody, watching him til I got there. He noticed me and I gave a wave. “Hey Kevin” he said. “Howdy Andy, thanks for watching Cody for me, running a little late.” I chuckled, attempting to blend into my new persona. “Oh it’s no problem Kev. See ya tomorrow.” He replied holding his daughter’s hand and walking her home.

Cody turned towards me and gave me a big hug. “I missed you at school daddy”. This made me smile, I was really starting to feel like a dad. I lifted him up with surprising ease and gave him a tight hug. I guess dad strength was a real thing. “I missed you too buddy. Alright let’s go home, I’ll make you a snack and I’ll help you with your homework. The sooner we get it done the sooner we can practice baseball in the yard.” I replied as if he was my own son, which I guess he was now.

I set Cody down at the kitchen table and grabbed him a snack while he was getting out his homework. I made a pb&j for the both of us and poured him a glass of milk and brought it to the table, sitting down right next to him. “Here you go kiddo. Alright what are we working on today?” I ask him. “We learned about multiplication today daddy. It was really cool! They want us to practice at home.” He replied very excitedly. “Multiplication? Wow! That’s so cool! Alright let’s get this done so we can play. I sat down with him, until we finished, letting him figure it out and only intervening when he was stuck to give him pointers. Around 30 minutes later he was done. “Wow you did that so quick, good job buddy!” I say trying to encourage my new son. I gave him a celebratory high five. I wasn’t sure why, it was almost instinct. Seems like that coin really did give memories.

Just as promised, me and Cody headed outside to practice baseball. Again, somehow knowing, I opened the toy box on the front porch and grabbed a ball, some mitts, and a bat. He looked so excited to play ball with his dad, I couldn’t stop smiling even if I tried, just providing my family with happy memories was more than enough to satisfy me forever. I remembered in my old body, which seemed like it was in a completely different universe, doing the same thing with my dad as a kid. Now here I was doing the same thing but on the other side.

We continued practicing, I gave him some pointers, congratulated him on catches and good hits. We only stopped when Mrs. Jacobs- I mean my wife pulled into the driveway. “Look who it is Cody!” I pointed towards my new wife. “Mommy!” He shouted as he ran towards her and hugged her, just as he did to me earlier. When I looked up from Cody to her, I noticed 2 things. Number one, this body was extremely attracted to her, makes sense I guess. I was not attracted to her in my old body, but this one was. I had to stuff those desires down deep, family came first, fun later. The second thing I noticed, was the baby in her arms. I had forgot that the Jacobs family just had another baby. “Hi Cody!” She said hugging him with her free arm that wasn’t holding our baby, Stanley. “You’re practicing baseball with daddy? You were doing so good when I drove past!” She said to him. “Alright let’s go inside, I’m about to order dinner.” She said to him, he obeyed his mother and left me and her to talk. When we locked eyes, there was a mutual smile, a love that hadn’t dissipated in the 25+ years we’d known each other. I walked over to her and hugged her, then kissed her. Her lips felt like coming home, retuning to something I’d missed for so long but never knew I had lost. “How was your day honey?” I asked. “Well, typical long day at work, but little Stanley is sitting up on his own now!” She replied excitedly. “What! That’s great, our little baby growing so quick.” I say, feeling as if this had always been my family. “Can you take him babe? I need to get ready for our dinner tonight and order the kids food.” She asked me. That’s right, I remembered now, our 25th anniversary had just passed and this was the night we were celebrating. “Of course I can hon. You go get ready, and me and little Stanley are gonna have a great time while mommy gets ready.” I say, completely overcome with baby fever. “Thanks hon, I shouldn’t be too long.” She said walking upstairs towards our room to get ready.

I cradled the infant in my arms, completely in love with my new life. The way Stanley looked into my eyes made me realize what I had been missing from life and what I wanted to do with the rest of it. “You’re sitting up all on your own now? You’re so big!” I say softly to him. I tie him a kiss on the cheek, “you’re the cutest little thing ever you know that?” I say, more invested in my new life than ever before. I took him upstairs and played with him for about an hour, including calling to order pizza for the boys while we were gone. I went to Zach’s room and knocked on the door with my free hand. “It’s dad”. He opened the door, “hey I just ordered pizza for you two and Cody, should be here in about 30 minutes. Remember me and your mother are going out tonight, so I need you to take care of your brothers, we should only be gone for 2 hours.” I said in a calm but authoritative tone, letting him know that he was responsible for these 2 kids while we were out. “Sure thing dad, thanks for the pizza.” He replied. “Yeah thanks for the pizza Mr. Jacobs, I’ll help Zach with Stanley and Cody.” I heard my old body say from the room. “Well thank you Jack, I really appreciate your help.” I said with a smile as I went back downstairs to feed Stanley his bottle. I grabbed it out of the fridge, put it in the microwave for a few seconds, then fed it to him. It was so gratifying, feeding my new infant. I was so glad I said year to the swap and got to skip all the lead up to this. As I finished burping Stanley, my wife walked downstairs in a beautiful dress, makeup and hair done perfectly. “Wow, you look amazing honey” I said as she walked into the living room. She looked more stunning. My old body was bisexual but usually leaned more towards men, but this woman was more beautiful to my new eyes than any person I’d ever seen. I stood up and walked towards her. “I mean it, you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever known.” I said in a soft but serious tone. She blushed in response “You’re the sweetest husband ever.” She said back to me. We shared a kiss before I handed Stanley back to her so I could go get ready. “I already gave Stanley his bottle, and I ordered pizza for the boys, Jack is over right now, he said he’d help Zach watch the kids tonight.” I filled her in as I walked upstairs to change. I stripped off my clothes and tossed them into the hamper, agin noticing my new handsome body, I just had to give it a quick feel up. Again, I wanted nothing more than to milk my new bull cock which was sticking out a long ways from my boxers, but I didn’t have time. I walked into the closet and grabbed a nice black suit and tie, an undershirt, a white dress shirt, black dress shoes and a blue pattern tie. I headed towards the mirror so I could watch me dress myself. I only got harder with every piece of clothing I put on, seeing Mr. Jacobs body under my control, dressing in his suits that always made him look so powerful and handsome. Once I was finished dressing I added some gel and water to my hair to make it look a bit more formal and put together. I took one last look at myself in the mirror. Man did I look handsome. I stuffed the desire to whip my cock out while kissing my reflection deep down, and left my room. I knocked on Zach’s door again. He opened it and I could see my wife already gave Stanley to the 2 boys. I knew with Mr. Jacobs in my old body there that the kids would be more than ok. I let Zach know “We’re about to leave son. Make sure to keep an eye on the boys and make sure Cody eats and gets to bed in time.” I ordered. “Will do dad, have fun.” He said. “Lookin spiffy Mr. Jacobs, congrats on 25 years.” He said to me, I chuckled a bit. “Thanks boys” I said with a smile, then closing the door and heading downstairs.

“You look so handsome babe.” My wife said to me, giving me a kiss. “Well thank you honey, you ready?” She nodded, I made sure I had my essentials and headed out the door to Mr. Jacobs- I mean my expensive Mercedes. I opened the door for my wife, who then complimented me on being a gentleman. I got into the drivers seat and drove towards the fanciest restaurant in town. We talked about various things on the way. Such as Zach being all grown up, Cody and Stanley’s futures, both of our experiences at work recently, regular married couple things to talk about. We pulled into the restaurant, I held the door for my wife as we walked inside. We walked up to the desk and the waiter greeted us. “Good evening sir, ma’am. Do you have a reservation?” He asked. “Yes, under Kevin.” I replied. He looked at the tablet for my name, “Ah, yes sir, dinner for 2.” He grabbed some menus and silverware as another employee came up to me and asked “May I take your jacket sir?” In a very polite manner. I wasn’t used to places like this, the hospitality was amazing. “Yes, please” I replied as I took my suit jacket off and handed it to the man who hung it up on a hanger with our corresponding table number above it. “Right this way sir.” The waiter said with a smile as he led us to our table. I pulled out my wife’s chair for her to sit down before sitting down myself.

We quickly ordered, deciding on a glass of champagne, and a steak and salad for the both of us. We spent most of the dinner looking down memory lane at our relationship. It was so strange that I just knew this woman as my friend’s mom earlier today, and now she was my wife who I would die before I let anything happen to. It was also strange reminiscing on memories I hadn’t lived, even though I had them and could tell you exactly where I was inside them, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I was here, having an amazing dinner with my gorgeous wife. I was looking forward to another 25 years, then I remembered, me and Mr. Jacobs only agreed to swap for a month. Well I certainly didn’t want to swap back, all I could do was hope he didn’t want to either, and enjoy the moment with my current wife. After reliving the best moments of our relationship, some much needed time alone, and a bottle of champagne later, I paid the check, grabbed my jacket, and drove myself and my wife back home.

When we got home, the first thing I did was check on the kids, those parental instincts taking over. I silently checked on Cody and Stanley, each were sound asleep. I knocked on Zach’s door again, he answered. “Thanks for taking care of the boys Zach.” I said in a genuine manner. “No problem dad. Jack went home but he said to tell you he said thank you for the advice and the dinner, and that he’s gonna text you about something important tomorrow.” He replied. “Gotcha, thanks.” I said as I walked back into my room.

I could see my wife getting undressed, so I did the same, hanging my dress clothes back up and putting my under shirt in the hamper. My wife was in the middle of changing with her back towards me. We were finally alone, I couldn’t stop staring at her perfect ass. Remembering all the times we, well Mr Jacobs and her, had sex, including when we conceded our kids. My new cock immediately spring to max length. She pulled off her dress and heels, went into the closet to hang them up. When she came out, she noticed me hard as a rock and gave a devious smile. “Get over here Mr. Husband.” She demanded. “Yes ma’am.” I obeyed. I walked over to her and immediately we began to make out passionately. I had never had sex with a woman before but this new body already knew what to do, I was almost going on autopilot. She stripped off both of our underwear, pushed me onto the bed, climbed on top of me and continued to kiss me as she stroked my new cock. My member had been begging for attention all day, and now it was getting it all at once, but I was determined not to go out early. I slipped 2 fingers inside her, and begin making the motions Mr. Jacob’s body knew would work best. She began to moan between breaths. Not long after she flipped us over so she was on the bottom. “Take me” she said in a breathy voice. That line was like a command that activated a sleeper agent. Immediately upon receiving this permission, I slipped my cock, drenched in so much pre cum that I didn’t need any lube, inside her and immediately went all the way in. She struggled to keep her voice down, and I struggled not to burst right there. I paused for a minute before resuming, giving rhythmic, powerful strokes while kissing her, both of her breast’s in my hands. “Oh my god, Kevin” she let slip out. That made me somehow get harder. This was kinda messed up, but that’s what made it so amazing. The fact that I was in this man’s body, taking over his life, using his cock to fuck his wife, while she called me his name and begged me to do it and had no idea I was an imposter. We went on for about another 30 minutes in various positions, before she locked her legs around my back, blocking me from pulling out and forcing me deeper. “Can my big strong manly husband give his wife another kid?” She teased to get me to go harder. “Oh you bet I can” I replied. I knew this was it, so I went harder than I ever had, reminding myself of my situation, thinking about how I was Kevin Jacobs, fucking MY wife, with MY huge cock, and could get her pregnant again. And immediately after that thought, my whole body tensed up and I began to shoot the biggest load I ever had into my wife. This was enough to send her over the edge, making her cum too, her wetness only making my orgasm last longer. Once I finished I rolled over and laughed. I looked at her “I love you so much honey.” And gave her a kiss before we both got up and began to clean up. We each took turns in the shower, then got ready for bed. Mr. Jacobs habits taking over, I began his nightly reading session while my wife laid her head on my shoulder. Once I noticed she was asleep, I put the book away and my set glasses on the end table. I looked at my wedding ring and touched it, glancing at my wife, smiling, before turning the light off, and snuggling my wife as I drifted off to sleep. This was everything I’d ever hoped for. An amazing wife with an amazing sex life, I had an amazing job, house, and car, and 3 amazing sons. Life couldn’t get better, I thought as I drifted off to sleep.

I woke up the next morning, and my wife had already gone to work and took Stanley to daycare, Cody and Zach had gone to school. I got up, grabbed a suit and got dressed for my first day at Mr. Jacob’s job. I took a look at myself all dressed up, the sight still hadn’t got old, man I looked good in a suit I thought to myself. As I was grabbing my breakfast and coffee before heading out, I got a text. It was from my old body. “Hey Mr. Jacobs, I know it’s soon, but I had a great night last night. I realized this is what I’ve wanted for a while. I don’t want to swap back. What are your thoughts?”

I beamed when I saw this, he didn’t want to swap back either! Yes! “Glad you’re enjoying yourself Jack. And I’m also glad you don’t want to swap back, because last night was the best night of my life. I realized I love nothing more than this amazing family and being with them.”

“Perfect. Thanks Mr. Jacobs” he texted back.

“Of course buddy, remember you can talk to me about anything, you’re like a son to me.” I assured him.

“I appreciate that Mr. Jacobs.” He replied

I smiled, realizing that this was my new life, forever, til the day I died. I grabbed my breakfast and briefcase, and headed off to work.

This story is a spin-off of Body Swap Roulette

Tom could not stop thinking about his brief experience as a middle-aged daddy that one fateful night he played Body Swap Roulette with his friends. He often returned to his online profile and looked at the man who had messaged him - the man he briefly became for one glorious evening.

The photograph waited beneath the username: a rugged man in his mid-forties, dark hair escaping beneath a baseball cap, salt-and-pepper beard, chest hair spreading across a broad, solid torso.

By the time the fourth phone's Scruff profile was activated, none of the four friends sitting at the dining room table were laughing quite as naturally as before.

(Pictured Left to Right: Phil, Don, Ralph & Tom)

Tom’s house had always been their safest gathering place. It sat at the quiet end of a suburban street, comfortably furnished but still half-decorated, as though Tom had moved in months ago and had never committed to where everything belonged. The dining room opened directly into the living room, where a warm floor lamp cast amber light across the couch, the darkened windows, and the crowded wooden table.

There were cards, poker chips, bowls of pretzels and tortilla chips, four beers, and four phones displaying newly created Scruff profiles.

They all knew the rules. One current photograph. No filters. No false ages. No changing the location radius. Each player would transform into the first man that messaged them. Not just his face. Everything.

I stood in the NYC hotel room in my suit, phone in one hand, the other sliding a pod into the coffee maker. The rich smell hit the air right away as the machine gurgled. I scrolled through Instagram while it brewed.

Jose’s story popped up first. There he was in a sharp navy suit that hugged his frame, hair neatly styled, flashing that easy grin straight into the camera. “Suited up and headed to court. Ready to fight for my right to live freely as I am today. Azure Sands doesn't have the right to steal my autonomy. Lets do this."

He looked sharp. Confident. The suit stretched across his chest just right, the jacket open enough to show the crisp white shirt underneath.

I was nervous to see him at the courthouse later today.

I took a slow sip of the coffee, feeling the fabric of my tight dress shirt stretch across my large chest and shoulders. It still didn't feel normal. This body just wasn't built for dress clothes.

I set the mug down and adjusted my tie in the reflection of the mirror hanging from the door. Not bad. Just not mine.

--

A little over two years ago I went to Azure Sands for a getaway.

I was 32, burnt out from nonstop work, and freshly single after my girlfriend and I called it quits. The idea of a body-swap experience sounded like the perfect way to get out of my head. I’d read the stories online—people talking about how freeing it felt, how intense the sex hit when you were wearing someone else’s skin. All anyone at the resort wanted to do was fuck as each other. I figured it’d be fun to try fucking as a completely different guy, different race, different build. Some people even ended up loving their new bodies so much they made the swap permanent. I wasn’t into that part, but it was still a glowing recommendation.

The resort was beautiful when I arrived. Turquoise water, white sand, palm trees everywhere. Everything smelled like sunscreen and salt air.

All was going according to plan at first. They had everyone check into the hotel and invited us to the Sapphire Lounge where we mingled as we waited for the pairings.

I was standing near the bar with a cold beer when this guy came up and introduced himself. Jackson. White guy from Memphis, maybe a few years older than me. He had a cool southern accent that rolled out slow and easy. Bald on top but really muscular, arms and chest filling out his tank top, cool tattoos down his arms.

We started chatting. He asked what brought me down here, and I told him the truth—needed to reset after a shit breakup and even shittier year at work.

“Same,” he said, clinking his glass against mine. “Figured swapping into something new would shake things up. You look like you take care of yourself. Bet you’d wear my body well.”

I laughed.

They made the announcement of the different pairs a little while later. When they called my name and Jackson’s, I felt a quick jolt of surprise. He turned to me with this satisfied look.

“What are the odds? Guess we’re doing this,” I said.

Jackson leaned in closer, voice low. “Actually, I paid for the higher tier package. Got to pick my swap partner before I even got here. They sent pictures and bios of everyone coming for the two weeks. I picked you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “For real?”

He nodded, that southern drawl thick. “For real.” His eyes flicked down my body again. “Flattered?” He said in a vaguely flirty tone.

I'd never been interested in guys, but for a split second I saw the appeal of corn-fed guy with a southern drawl.

“Yeah,” I said, feeling the heat in my face. “I am.”

---

The swap happened overnight. I went to bed in my own skin and woke up the next morning as Jackson—bigger, heavier, tattoos covering parts of my new arms and chest.

We ran into each other at breakfast. The whole dining area was full of people moving differently, testing out new heights and weights and voices. Jackson—in my old body—spotted me and waved me over.

“Morning,” he said, grinning with my old face. “Holy shit, this feels weird, right?”

I sat down across from him, rolling my new shoulders. “Feels like I’m wearing someone else’s clothes that are way too tight in the right places. These arms… I keep bumping into shit.”

He laughed and flexed one of my old biceps. “Tell me about it. Your body’s got speed though. I ran on the beach earlier and felt like I could keep going forever.”

We spent that first day bro-ing out about it. Hit the resort gym together, spotting each other on the weights.

After that day we kind of went our separate ways.

Everyone was too busy focused on the main reason they’d come here: to fuck. The resort had us all do STI tests on arrival and put every single person—men and women—on medical birth control. They knew exactly what this place was and weren’t trusting anyone with condoms.

The next two weeks were heaven. Hot women kept throwing themselves at me in Jackson’s strong, tattooed body. I could cum deep in whoever I wanted, whenever I wanted, with zero repercussions. And they were just as into it, chasing the same rush.

One night I ended up with this Brazilian girl who was wearing the body of some bitchy French woman from Paris. She had me literally weak in the knees. The way she rode me, grinding down hard while her tits bounced, had me gripping the sheets. I loved how Jackson’s thick beard felt dragging across their pussies when I ate them out—rough and warm, the scratch making them shake and moan louder every time. She came so hard on my face I could barely breathe, then begged me to flip her over and fill her up. I did, thrusting deep until I unloaded inside her, both of us sweating and cursing in the humid night air.

The only kind of weird thing during the stay happened a few nights in. I was walking back from the beach bar when I spotted Jackson across the resort. He was flirting hard with this tall, built guy. The guy had his hands all over him—grabbing Jackson’s ass through my old shorts, squeezing his arms. Jackson looked up at him with these eager, submissive eyes, like he was already gone for it.

I hadn’t realized he was actually gay. His whole dude-bro vibe had thrown me off.

Later I saw them heading toward a villa. Out of pure morbid curiosity I followed and peered through a side window. The curtains were open just enough. Inside, the big guy had Jackson bent over the bed. He ate my old ass like he was starving for it, tongue working deep while Jackson moaned and pushed back. Then the guy stood up, slicked his cock, and slid in.

I watched the whole thing. Jackson took every inch, gasping and gripping the sheets. The guy railed him steady and deep, hitting the right spot over and over. I didn’t expect what happened next. Jackson’s cock—my cock—started shooting without anyone touching it, just from his prostate getting pounded. Thick ropes hit the bed while he shook and cried out.

Damn, I thought, staring. My asshole is gonna hurt when I get back in there.

It didn’t bother me too much. I was more surprised than anything. We were all here for the same thing. If he was getting off and it felt that good, who was I to judge?

But I was thrown when Jackson brought it up on the last day. We were sitting by the pool, drinks in hand, when he leaned in.

“Look,” he said, voice low, “I’ve been thinking. I’m loving this body. A lot. What if we just… stayed like this forever? You can fuck me, or I fuck you?"

You see, the resort’s only real rule was that swapped pairs can’t fuck one another, otherwise the swap is permanent. That said, it was an open secret of the resort that they don’t care if guests do it on purpose.

I stared at him.

He kept going, eyes serious but still carrying that flirt. “You’d have a great life in my skin. Bigger dick than what you’re used to. Women come up to me all the time back in Nashville wanting to get fucked. It’s kind of wasted on me since I’m gay. You’d kill it.”

I shook my head. “I appreciate it, man. But I’m good. I want my body back.”

He relented, but not before flashing me a half-smile and letting his hand brush my thigh. “Your loss. That cock could stand to keep fucking pussy and you look damn good in that big muscular frame.”

I laughed it off.

Then something completely unexpected happened.

---

On the very last day, right before checkout, the resort staff called everyone into the Sapphire Lounge. The coordinator looked nervous as she delivered the news.

“There’s been a malfunction with the body swap technology,” she said, voice tight. “Due to a programming error, all of you actually underwent a permanent swap on the first day.”

The room went dead quiet, then erupted.

Jackson turned to me, face pale. “Fuck… I’m so sorry, man. I had no idea.” His words sounded genuine. But when I glanced down, his cock—my old cock—was rock hard and straining against his shorts. He shifted, trying to hide it, but I saw.

We didn’t have much choice. After the paperwork and the lawyers the resort threw at us, we went back to one another’s homes. He flew to my place in San Diego. I flew to his in Nashville.

We stayed in touch at first. Texts checking in, a couple awkward video calls where we tried to laugh about it. But we lived so far apart, and real life started pulling us in different directions. New jobs, new routines, new bodies to get used to. The contact faded after a few months.

I could see from social media how well Jackson was doing in my old body. He posted a picture a few months after the swap—him and this really hot boyfriend he’d met at the airport on the way back to San Diego of all places. Tall, sharp jawline, the kind of guy who looked like he worked out just to show off. They looked happy. Really happy.

My own life in Nashville was a string of one-night stands. I’d go out to bars, and women would come up to me, hands sliding over Jackson’s thick arms and chest, tracing the tattoos that still didn’t feel like mine. They loved the muscles, the beard, the way I filled out a shirt. I’d take them home, fuck them deep and hard, watching their eyes roll back while I gripped their hips with these bigger hands. The sex was good—great, even. But it left me depressed afterward. They weren’t into me. They were into Jackson’s body, his look, his vibe. Not the guy actually inside it.

Some of the guys around town were even more confused. A few times at bars, very good-looking dudes would slide up next to me, grinning like we had history. One leaned in close one night, hand brushing my thigh. “Been a while, Jackson. My place is close. You still into what we did last time?”

I had to let them down easy. “Sorry, man. Things are different now.” They’d look surprised, almost hurt, before backing off.

---

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, two years later Azure Sands reached out to everyone. They said they’d found a way to reverse it.

Some participants swapped back immediately. Others had settled into their new lives so well they refused. That left a small group where one person wanted to switch back and the other didn’t.

Tough luck for me—Jose was one of them.

The morning I found out, I called him right away, heart pounding.

“Dude, they can fix this,” I said, voice rushing. “We can swap back. I’ll book the flight today—”

“No,” he cut me off. His voice—my old voice—was calm and flat. “I’m not doing it.”

I stopped pacing the living room. “What the fuck do you mean you’re not doing it?”

“I mean I’m happy here,” he said. “I’ve got a boyfriend who actually gets me. I make more money in your old job than I ever did in mine. I like this body. I’m keeping it.”

We started yelling. I told him he had no right to steal my life. He shot back that I was the one who’d been living his—fucking half of Nashville—and that I should just admit I’d moved on too. The call ended with both of us pissed off and him hanging up first.

Jose ended up as the lead plaintiff in the lawsuit against Azure Sands for everyone who didn’t want to swap back. It blew up into a national media case. He went on national morning talk shows, sitting there with my old smile, looking sharp in suits that fit him perfectly. People ate it up. He talked about how much he loved his new life, his boyfriend, the dog they’d adopted, how the swap had finally let him become who he was meant to be. He made it sound unconscionable that anyone would try to force him to change now.

---

I stared at his latest Instagram story one more time—the one of him suited up, headed to court.

Time to go fight for my body back.

The court case had dragged on for a few months by now, and today was the big day of testimony. The courtroom felt stuffy under the fluorescent lights as they called up swappees from both sides—people desperate to get their old bodies back, people fighting to keep what they had, and couples who had mutually agreed to stay or switch. Lawyers grilled them on every detail: happiness levels, relationships, careers, mental health.

Finally, they called Jackson to the stand.

He walked up to the stand in my old body like he owned the room. The navy suit hugged his frame perfectly. His hair was styled neat, that easy grin flashing as he swore in. The Tennessee accent was completely gone, replaced by a smooth, light Chicano San Diego cadence.

The lawyer started easy. “Mr. Rivera can you tell the court why you wish to remain in your current body?”

Jackson leaned forward slightly, sincere. “I truly believe I was always meant to be Latino. Before the swap I already spoke Spanish fluently—Mexican Spanish, actually—along with English. The real Jose didn’t. When I woke up in this body, it felt like coming home. I love connecting with my culture now. The food, the music, the community. I go to family gatherings where I actually belong. Forcing me back would rip that away from me.”

He turned and looked directly at two older Hispanic women on the jury. “Y sé que ustedes entienden lo que significa sentirte parte de algo más grande,” he said in perfect, warm Mexican Spanish. “Esta es mi vida ahora. No quiero perderla.”

The two women smiled softly, nodding like he was the nicest grandson they never had.

He continued, voice steady. “I know I would suffer permanent psychological damage if I had to wake up to a different face in the mirror every day after getting so used to this one. I’m finally in a fulfilling relationship. My boyfriend—God, I love him so much—just proposed to me two weeks ago.” He held up his hand, showing the ring. A few people in the gallery sighed. “It would be unfair to drag him through this. He fell in love with me, this me.”

Jackson glanced over at the defense table where I sat, then back to the jury. “When I look at my former body now, I don’t feel anything for it. Those old tattoos? I hate them. They don’t represent who I am anymore. Forcing a swap back would be like making me become a stranger in my own skin. I’ve built a better life here—more meaningful work, deeper connections, real happiness. I volunteer at the local Latinx community center. I’m mentoring young guys who look like me now. This body lets me be the man I was always supposed to be.”

He was flirting with the jury the whole time, too—subtle smiles, eye contact that lingered just a beat too long. The older gay man on the jury kept nodding, completely hooked. The college-age hunk who looked probably closeted shifted in his seat, cheeks a little flushed every time Jackson’s gaze passed over him.

The lawyer wrapped up. “No further questions.”

As I sat there listening to him, my jaw clenched so hard it hurt. Every word out of his mouth made me angrier. I was always meant to be Latino. Bullshit. He talked about belonging like he'd earned it, like two years somehow outweighed thirty-two.

Jackson stepped down, shooting one last polite, charming smile toward the jury box before walking past my table. As he did, he leaned in just enough for me to hear.

“Sorry, man,” he whispered, that light accent curling around the words.

My attorney put a hand on my arm.

"You're up."

I stood and buttoned my jacket. Walking to the witness stand, I could already feel eyes on me. Jackson had practically floated up there. He smiled at people without even trying. He had that face that made strangers trust him before he said a word.

The clerk swore me in, and I sat down, the tight fabric of my dress shirt digging into my shoulders. My attorney started with the easy questions.

"Can you tell the jury why you're asking the court to order the reversal?"

"Because it's my body." I looked at every juror as I said it, trying to bridge the gap between Jackson’s gruff voice and my own soul. "I know you've heard a lot about identity over the last few weeks. You've heard about careers and relationships and happiness. I understand all of that." I nodded toward Jackson, sitting there in my old skin. "I'm glad he built a life. I really am. But he built it with something that wasn't his."

I held up my tattooed forearm. "I wake up every morning looking at somebody else's arms." I rubbed my thumb across the ink. "I still don't know what half of these mean." A few jurors smiled politely. "I shave somebody else's beard. I hear somebody else's voice. I catch myself in mirrors and for a split second I still expect to see..." I stopped, realizing there wasn't much point in romanticizing it. "My own face. I don't want his life. I never wanted his life. I just want mine back."

My attorney let that hang for a moment before sitting down. Then the defense attorney stood, wearing the same practiced smile he’d had all week.

"Mr. Carter, let's look at how you wound up in this situation to begin with," the defense attorney began, pacing slowly toward the witness stand. "You weren't forced to go to Azure Sands, correct?"

"No. I went on vacation."

"A very specific kind of vacation. You went there for the explicit purpose of swapping bodies with another human being."

"For two weeks," I clarified, my jaw tightening. "It was supposed to be a temporary experience."

"But you went willingly. In fact, according to the resort's logs and the discovery files we reviewed, you didn't just participate—you thoroughly enjoyed yourself. The records show you gave the experience a glowing review on your exit survey before the malfunction was announced." The attorney smiled, looking over at the jury. "You spent those two weeks engaging in numerous intimate encounters, taking full advantage of Mr. Rivera's physical build. By your own admission to the resort staff, you loved how it felt to wear his skin. You thought it was 'heaven.' Isn't that right?"

I felt the heat rise into my face, Jackson's thick neck growing warm beneath my collar. "We were all there for the same thing. It was a fantasy resort. That doesn't mean I wanted to give up my actual life forever."

"Of course," the attorney said smoothly, pivoting back toward me. "But the point remains: you willingly walked into an experimental procedure to abandon your biological identity for pleasure. And you've continued to live in it. You've now lived in your current body for over two years."

"Yes."

"You've maintained steady employment, continued your hobbies, made friends. You've dated."

I hesitated, thinking of the string of empty one-night stands in Nashville. "...Yes."

"So despite the circumstances, you've adapted."

"I didn't have a choice. I had no alternative."

The lawyer nodded slowly, walking a little closer. "You testified you've had numerous intimate relationships over the last two years. So women are attracted to your current appearance."

"They're attracted to his appearance."

"But no one forced you to date."

"What else am I supposed to do? I still have needs."

"So despite everything... you've managed."

Something about that word irritated me. "Managed? Yeah. Like a guy who loses a leg manages. You don't congratulate him for walking with a prosthetic."

The analogy landed poorly; a couple of jurors frowned. I pushed through the frustration anyway. "You all keep looking at me like this body is some prize. I'm a six-foot-three bald guy covered in tattoos. I look like I belong outside a biker bar. I walk into a grocery store and little kids stare. I don't exactly have grandmas pinching my cheeks and calling me handsome anymore."

Too late, I noticed the older Hispanic woman on the jury—the one Jackson had been charming in Spanish just minutes ago—fold her arms tightly across her chest.

"I didn't mean—" I cut myself off. The damage was done. I forced myself to finish. "This isn't who I am. I used to smile at people and they'd smile back. Now they move out of my way. I'm intimidating. I'm not approachable. I'm not... built to be this guy."

The defense attorney tilted his head, smelling blood. "Yet, you testified that people respect you. You said they don't mess with you."

"I meant... when you look like this, people tend to take you seriously."

"So this body commands respect. You enjoy that? It's useful."

"Look, anybody would enjoy not having people push them around."

"So you've benefited."

I didn't answer. He looked back at the jury with a satisfied nod. "No further questions."

The jury was dismissed to deliberate, and then all we could do was wait.

Nobody talked much. My lawyer tried making small talk for the first hour before giving up. Across the room, Jackson sat with his fiancé, their fingers intertwined. Every now and then I'd catch him looking at me with my old eyes. I couldn't tell whether he felt guilty or relieved.

Late the following afternoon, the bailiff opened the door. "The jury has reached a verdict."

My stomach dropped. We filed back in. The foreperson handed the paper to the judge, who unfolded it slowly.

"On the question before the court... the jury finds in favor of the defendant."

For a second, the words didn't process. Then it hit me. My lawyer lowered his head. Across the aisle, Jackson closed his eyes and let out a long breath, his fiancé gripping his hand.

The courtroom erupted the moment the judge adjourned. Reporters rushed toward Jackson before he even stepped into the aisle, calling him by my name as camera flashes filled the room. I stood there for another few seconds before quietly picking up my briefcase. Nobody stopped me. Nobody had any questions for the big guy in the corner.

By the time I reached the courthouse doors, I caught my reflection in the glass. Same shaved head. Same heavy build. Same tattoos. The same face I'd been trying to get rid of for more than two years.

This time, though, there wasn't another hearing to look forward to. The jury had decided that the man wearing my old face got to keep it, and I was left carrying the weight of a stranger.

Zach bought the gag game with a small metal token because it was stupid and of course that was the whole appeal. It sat in a dusty glass case at the back of the magic shop between trick decks, rubber thumbs, vanishing coins, and a cheap plastic wand with half its glitter rubbed off. The box was small, black, and dramatic, with a cartoon lightning bolt across the lid and a top hat on the back. Across the side the words:

FOR COUPLES WHO WANT A NEW PERSPECTIVE

“I’m starting to grow used to this human vessel you know.” Veildorm admitted as he allowed his hands to glide down his torso as he had many times before. He could still feel the satisfying itch of body hair beneath his fingers despite the thin translucent fabric clinging to his form. It did very little to hide the masculine elegance of his new body. “I truly didn’t expect it to feel so… comfortable.”

“That is… great news sir.” A slender, blue skinned alien rattled from behind Veildorm. Standing by idly with his three spindly arms folded behind his back. Eyes fluttering and antenna twitching nervously in the presence of his commander. “If I’m not mistaken, the doctors made sure to give you the most ideal of the male humans we had in stock.”

Veildorm turned to his nervously jittering assistant who seemed clueless as ever. “I’m aware. I requested this human for that exact reason. Mature but still young. High levels of testosterone. Most ideal distribution of fat, muscle mass and body hair.” He paused for a moment as his gaze landed on the not so subtle bulge between his legs. “And impressive levels of virility.” He allowed a lazy hand to graze his crotch, his professional composure slipping for a fraction of a second before returning. “I’ve had my eye on him for some time. On earth he would be considered an ideal mate. Still, I did not expect it to feel this pleasant.”

———

Months Prior…

The Archosians were a very curious species known for sticking their noses where, quite honestly, they didn't belong. Originating from their home planet Archolm-Rem, they’ve spread themselves out across the galaxy thanks to their advanced space tech. They were far more technologically evolved than any other species in the known universe. It was all thanks to their insatiable appetite for both knowledge and advancement. A crusade in which their home world suffered the consequences of. It was stripped bare of all its natural resources until the Archosians were forced to leave in droves.

Nowadays fleets of Archosian ships wander the universe scouting out other planets. Most of these planets they attempted to colonise for the sake of creating new homes for themselves while some planets they used purely to strip resources from. But none of these planets they came across were as perfect as Archolm-Rem had once been in its prime. It’d been a gorgeous blue pearl of a planet rich with life before their species had ruined it. And since abandoning it, no other planet had come close to its natural beauty. All just hideous rocks and gas clouds good for nothing but temporary refuge and resources. That is until one fleet, led by commander Veildorm, discovered a quaint little world sat in the solar system that orbited YellowSun-68Y9.

It was beautiful. In many ways this world was the spitting image of Archolm-Rem. Vast shimmering oceans surrounding land that, upon inspection, was bustling with life. Such a mass variety of biomes such lush green forests, sandy deserts, snowy tundras and stunning mountain scapes. And it wasn’t just rich with plant life, but animal life as well. All serving to cultivate a balanced ecosystem that helped to sustain the natural order.

With one exception.

As Veildorm’s fleet spied on this little gem of a planet from the other side of the solar system, they very quickly deduced who the dominant species were. They were bipedal simion-like creatures that’d evolved to have what appeared to be high levels of intellect. Not as high as Archosians but still impressive nonetheless. Enough so that they managed to come out on top despite there being so many bigger and stronger predators on their world. Upon further surveillance Veildorm’s crew was able to deduce that these creatures called themselves Humans and that they’d named their planet ‘Earth’. And in many ways they seemed similar to the Archosians in their own much slower but still determined efforts to further themselves and their technology. As such it was clear they were making the same mistake the Archosians did. Slowly ruining their planet with little regard. All for the sake of what they likely deemed to be necessary progress.

Unlike Humans, The Archosians had learned from their mistakes. As such, when Commander Veildorm reported back to the council about their findings in regards to Planet Earth, a decision was soon made. They would continue to use the other planets they’d conquered as colonies and wells of resources but Earth would become their new Motherworld. And this time they plan to preserve and respect it the way they should’ve done with Archolm-Rem. The way Humans likely never will.

But they couldn’t just launch a full scale invasion. Something like that would defeat the point. The Archosians would surely win but there’s a high possibility they’d end up decimating a huge portion of the planet in the process. That simply wouldn’t do. So instead the high council ordered Commander Veildorm to stay covert for now and to continue monitoring Planet Earth so that they can learn as much as they can before deciding on their next move.

And so they did for many months. Always remaining a safe distance away from the planet to avoid detection. But from so far away, there was only so much they could do. Visuals weren’t always the best and any picking up radio waves from this far away only yielded crackling half conversations at best. At this rate getting any real intel would take forever and Veildorm was getting impatient. He’d been ordered by the high council to abstain from any kind of contact with earth until their say-so but he just couldn’t sit on his hands anymore. Not when he’d already come up with a plan to streamline the gathering of intel.

And so Veildorm took matters into his own hands when he ordered some of his crew to take a dozen small shuttles directly to Earth. It only took them a few days to reach the planet and once they closed in, the invaders deployed anti-detection fields around their ships to prevent them from being picked up by any earthly radars. It wouldn’t have worked for the bigger fleet ships but the shuttles were just small enough that they were able to enter Earth’s atmosphere undetected. Once they made it just above the clouds, the squad of twelve split up in different directions across the globe.

Their mission was a simple one. Abduct a variety of humans and bring them back to the fleet for testing and extraction of information. They were to complete this mission as swiftly and covertly as possible to avoid any and all detection. It was risky but the rewards would be significant. That’s why Veildorm assigned his best pilots to the job.

Each shuttle scouted out quiet and more remote areas in search of lone humans to snatch up and sedate. They all had enough space to carry ten humans on board making for a total of one hundred and twenty human subjects to be whisked away and shoved under an eager microscope by Veildorm and his crew. There were a few close calls but the mission was a success. An example being how one man had witnessed his older brother being taken and as such he was quickly abducted too. And similarly a big burly farmer had almost saved his wife from being vacuumed up only for them both to get taken instead. Despite that though, the team was in the clear. Soon enough they regrouped to begin the ascent back up into the stars and towards the hidden fleet across the solar system with ten dozen humans in tow.

When they returned a few days later, the humans were unloaded from the shuttles and onto the flagship where Commander Veildorm watched with a smirk. He was elated to finally see some humans up close after spying on them for so long. Each of them strapped into a hovering transport cart as they were split up into different groups. Each group was taken to different facilities around the ship so they could undergo different forms of testing.

Group A was made of eight humans, four of each sex. Groups B, C, D and E all had twenty five humans each. And finally Group F contained twelve humans of equal sex.

Group A were the unfortunate souls that were sent to be dissected for the purpose of learning about the human anatomy and the inner workings of both male and female bodies. Luckily they were only the smallest group. The rest of the humans suffered far less cruel fates by comparison. Not that they knew that.

Groups B and C for example were used for the purpose of extracting information. B was interrogated the traditional way. Being told to give up any and all information they had about Earth from the tiniest details about their personal lives to anything they knew about the wider world and the rest of the human race. Not much encouragement was needed beyond the promise that they’d be returned home safely if they cooperated. Of course that promise was completely hollow but the poor human subjects didn’t need to know that. On the other hand, Group C was taken for a much more unorthodox method of extracting information. It entailed getting hooked up to some very advanced technology that would scan their brains in an attempt to artificially pull information out of their memory banks. It wasn’t completely accurate and certainly couldn’t pull out everything but it was good at snatching little nuggets of information that ordinary interrogation methods might not have dug up.

Then there were the reactionary groups, D and E. Both were being monitored on their reactions to external stimuli to see how humans operate under different circumstances. One of those groups was subjected to things that were more abstract like sounds, images, smells and such like. Meanwhile the other group was given more direct and physical tasks to complete like puzzles or exercise. All these humans were fitted with devices to monitor their bodily activity to see what kinds of chemical reactions arose throughout each experience and interaction. They learned a lot about the inner workings of human brains from these groups.

Lastly there was Group F. This group was strapped down and surrounded by Archosian scientists who were more than eager to poke and prod curiously at their human forms. They went through just about everything that a conspiracy theorist might expect after being abducted by aliens. Having their body parts squeezed and pinched at. Having small hairs plucked and blood samples drawn for additional testing. Being injected with all kinds of compounds with antidotes on standby as they tested human immune responses. Making notes on all the major differences between the males and females. Namely their muscle and bone structure and how the males on average seemed to be hairier and ape-like whereas the females were typically smaller and capable of producing milk for their offspring. Not to mention their reproductive organs which were particularly interesting to the Archosians. After all they were a species of a singular sex, capable of reproducing asexually. Hence they couldn’t help finding the concept of differing sexual organs to be particularly intriguing. Especially with how those organs seemed to respond when stimulated. It was fascinating.

———

Commander Veildorm had overseen all of the experiments. He’d watch either from behind surveillance cameras or by venturing around each facility so he could inspect each group in person. The Humans were being sustained via nutrient and calorie dense fluids designed with each individual Human in mind. They were also given optimal exercise so they could maintain whatever physical condition they were in upon arrival, no matter how big or small they were.

It was fascinating getting to observe them. They looked so different with their soft skin and flat faces as opposed to the tough scales and longer snouts the Archosians possessed. All that hair. Only two arms and legs. They were built so unlike the aliens that’d abducted them and yet Veildorm couldn’t help seeing a certain elegance to the human form. It was so simple and symmetrical. So satisfying in its curves and ridges across various shapes. No matter whether they were Fit or Fat. Hairy or Not. Male or Female. Veildorm found beauty in them all that quite honestly matched the beauty of their home planet. And many of the Archosians aboard his fleet, scientists in particular, were also starting to share his views.

In truth though, Veildorm had taken a particular liking to the male humans. He was fond of their sharper features and bulkier forms in comparison to their female counterparts. There was something so raw about them that mixed rather curiously with their high intellect. It almost didn’t make sense for such intelligent creatures to have such a primal way about them. Whether it be in their looks or the way they conducted themselves in their society. “Fascinating…” Veildorm would mumble to himself quite frequently whenever he observed studies of or read through the finding in regards to the male humans. The females were interesting too in their own ways but the males just sparked something in the Commander that always seemed to hold his attention.

Cocks. They were such amusing things. Tantalising even. Just like the rest of the body, they could come in all shapes and sizes. Some long, some girthy. Some straight, some curved. But one thing they all shared was how the pleasure centres in the male brain all seemed to light up like burning stars whenever the cocks were stimulated. And no matter how much the males protested against it, if their cocks were stimulated enough they would start to grow. Rising from their usually soft state to stiff and sometimes intimidating length, bucking eagerly whether they wanted it or not. Veildorm soon discovered that the human term for this was an ‘erection’. He was enamoured by the concept. Human males being capable of growing their sex organs was unlike anything in Archosian biology. And if the stimulation continued while the cock was erect, they would inevitably be forced to ejaculate a milky white fluid. Yet another act they couldn’t control much like the erection itself and one that seemed to cause even more immense pleasure. So much so that most males would briefly devolve into deep groans and roars as they unwillingly unloaded their seed. Apparently this was called an orgasm. Something both sexes seemed to experience but in slightly different ways.

“P-please… stop. No more… no more…” One of the males had begged while Veildorm was in the room watching as he was being milked over and over. His cock had been stimulated endlessly for about twenty four hours in an experiment to see if there was any limit to the amount of semen a human male could produce. It was the burly farmer who’d tried to save his wife from abduction. He might’ve seemed intimidating had not been bound and reduced to a squirming mess begging for relief. It was amazing how sensitivity of the penis seemed to spike to an almost painful degree upon prolonged stimulation after the initial orgasm. And as the bearish man was forced to produce more of his seed, it was collected into containers alongside the other males for further research just like all the other various DNA samples.

“Sir. Upon examination it would appear that the unique gland male humans have inside their rectum can act as an alternative means of producing an orgasm. They call it a prostate. We believe that with enough stimulation, this gland can quickly cause an erection and make them produce semen without the need to touch their penis.” One of the scientists had explained to Veildorm after comparing notes from the scientists working with the other groups. “Do you want us to test the theory on a few of them?”

Veildorm’s three bright yellow eyes scanned the poor human men who looked oh so broken and defeated. Then eventually returning his gaze to the scientists. “You may proceed but on the condition that I decide which of them you are to test this experiment with.”

The scientists nodded. “Of course Commander.”

Of all the men that’d been abducted, there was one in particular that had caught Veildorm’s attention from the moment they arrived on the ship. He was a male in the prime of his life, mature but not yet burdened by the slow decay of aging. He seemed to have the most splendid muscle to fat ratio, granting him a large and powerful physique that was as aesthetically pleasing as it was impressive. He almost seemed like he was more evolved than all the other males with how he’d managed to increase his muscle mass far beyond the average. It gave him this air of superiority even if not intentional. And to add to that he had a very healthy amount of body and facial hair that seemed to decorate his form in a way that only exuded more dominance. The cherry on top being his well endowed penis which, according to research, was a highly valued attribute amongst males. That alongside his physical strength made him quite the alpha amongst his species.

“This one. 109. Kenneth Barnes.” Veildorm announced while running a finger down the hulking man’s fuzzy pecs and along his abs. “He’s strong. As such I’m very curious to see how he reacts under the probe.”

One of the scientists nodded again. “Subject 109 AKA Kenneth Barnes. He’ll be added to the list immediately sir.”

Veildorm bit his long snake-like tongue in anticipation. Kenneth Barnes. That earthly name had been seared into his memory. It was no wonder with how often he checked that hunk’s record to see any and all updates on him no matter how small. He’d already given explicit orders for his scientists to be extra attentive with Subject 109 for how luxurious of a human he was. Like gold amongst silver. As such Veildorm didn’t pay much mind to the other two men he chose for the experiment. At this point there was only one human he truly cared about.

———

“NO! DON'T YOU FUCKUNG DARE! GET THAT THING AWAY FROM MY ASS! DON’T YO-UUURRRAAHHHHHHGH!!” Kenneth wailed as a girthy, almost penile, probe was speared into his tight virgin ass. Bypassing his thick muscular glutes that’d been parted by the forceful spreading of his legs, making it easy for the well lubed device to plunge deep inside his hole. His entire body tensed up as he fought with all his strength against the restraints to no avail. All while a symphony of desperate pained howls escaped his bearded lips as the probe began pumping generously in and out of his hole.

At first Veildorm couldn’t help but find it puzzling as to why Kenneth and the other two selected men were so terrified by the probe. He didn’t think it was much different from having their cocks stimulated. And yet they were far more hysterical than ever before. However one of the scientists soon explained to the Commander that this strong aversion to anal stimulation was very much a cultural thing amongst heterosexual males. Most considered to be shameful and what they called ‘emasculating’ and was only something that homosexual males typically partook in. As such, having them undergo an experiment like that was likely an enormous blow to their pride and ego. Two things that human males took in high regard.

“G-GETUUH… IT-T… OUUUTTAAHUU…” Kenneth gasped through roars and wails of anguish. His hole being forcibly stretched as the probe pounded against his prostate. His face twisting with pained disgust as he tried his hardest to fight against his body’s natural response to it. But no matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t stop his cock from stiffening to full length at the unwanted pleasure of his prostate being tapped over and over. It wasn’t long before he was leaking shamefully like a broken faucet. Pre-cum dripping in heavy globs from the tip of his penis and into a collection vat below. Just like the other two men beside him.

Before long all three of them were shooting load after load like helpless cum cows. Forced to endure some of the most powerful orgasms to have ever ripped through their bodies. And it was torture. All the other subjects from their group could only watch and listen in horror from the other end of the facility. All sympathetic towards the trio while simultaneously thankful that they themselves had escaped such a fate.

“How interesting that they would view something like this as shameful.” Veildorm had commented while keeping his eyes firmly planted on Kenneth. Watching at that broad hairy and now very sweaty chest rose and fell with every shaky breath. “On one hand the males view being able to produce lots of potent ejaculate as something to be proud of. And yet when faced with stimulation of the prostate to improve that production, they fight tooth and claw against it. Human psychology is so strange.”

Veildorm watched tentatively, going as far as to circle around Kenneth multiple times like a predator circling its prey. Watching the way the probe slid in between his colossal hairy cheeks. Observing how his penis jolted and swooned at each slam against his prostate. Scanning the way his thick muscles bulged and tightened with every unwanted orgasm seconds before another load of cum came flooding out. Ahhh cum. Just another human way of saying semen or ejaculate. Just like all the different words they had for penis. Veildorm found it amusing how humans had so many ways of saying the same thing.

“GAHHHUUHHHUUHH!” Kenneth howled through teary eyes as Veildorm personally increased the speed and aggression of his probe in particular. The wet sloshing sound of the lubricated device ravaging his hole only grew louder as Kenneth lost the ability to form words. Only being able to beg with his eyes. Eyes that’d once been so full of disobedience and a strong masculine will to fight back against his captors. But that fire had been extinguished, leaving behind a broken man.

And yet Veildorm remained fixated on Kenneth. So much so that even the scientists had begun to pick up on their Commander's special interest towards subject 109. There was just something so majestic about this alpha male form that Veildorm was becoming more and more obsessed with through every experiment. Even now as he watched a broken Kenneth wailing and groaning like an animal, he couldn’t help finding him rather beautiful to look at.

Veildorm had even begun to feel similarly towards most of the humans. Despite how different they were from Archosians in the physical appearance, he’d begun to develop an odd form of attraction towards them. The more he looked at them, the more he saw their elegance. Of course they weren’t flawless but those tiny imperfections each of them carried only made them more fascinating. And none of them were more elegant or fascinating than Kenneth. At least in Veildorm’s eyes. His attraction wasn’t sexual though. That wasn’t something Archosians experienced due to their asexual nature. It was more… aesthetic. He could see the appeal of it all. That combined with the intrigue he’d acquired for human psychology. Though he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t become incredibly curious as to what human sexuality must’ve felt like. Especially with how much pleasure those sexual organs seemed to bring…

“Keep them on the probes for a few more hours while you continue experiments with the others.” Veildorm had ordered. “After that, document all your findings on their changes in their mental and physical state.”

The scientists took heed of their Commander’s instructions as Veildorm turned to leave the Group F chamber. He still had to check up in person on the progress being made with the other Groups yet. Then he could return to his quarters where he’d continue to watch from the cameras. As he approached the door however, he turned and took one last look at Kenneth. Sprawled out. Huge hairy body on display. What a handsome creature that human was.

———

“We gave you a direct order NOT to engage with the planet or its inhabitants.” The voice of a member from the high council crackled over the monitor. “You were supposed to sit and observe. Nothing more. Why have you disobeyed us Commander?!”

Veildorm chewed the inside of his cheek. Somehow word of his operation had gotten back to the rest of the Archosians beyond his fleet. Someone aboard his ships must’ve snitched. He’d have to deal with that later.

“We were hardly gathering any kind of intel by observing. We would’ve been wasting so much time and resources had we continued to sit on our hands. So I made a professional call as the Commander of this fleet.” Veildorm explained while attempting to remain respectful of his superiors. “And it has paid off tremendously. Surely you must see that? My forces weren’t detected when gathering humans from the planet and now look at everything we’ve learned about them. The results speak for themselves!”

The council couldn’t deny Veildorm’s successes in this operation but they reprimanded him nonetheless. “Even so, the people of their world are bound to notice over a hundred of their kind going missing. That alone could put them on guard and make a takeover of their planet much more difficult. Have you even considered that factor?”

“I have.” Veildorm responded. Though in truth it was something he’d only considered after the fact but still. “And I have the perfect solution.”

“And what might that be Commander?” Another council member asked.

Veildorm smiled confidently. “My crew and I have been working tirelessly to perfect a procedure that’ll allow us to send the humans back to earth without any worries that they’ll tell the rest of their kind about us. And better yet, they’ll report to us.”

“And how do you figure that?”

“Because the Humans will be us. Archosian brains in Human bodies!”

It was a project that’d been in the works since the day after the abducted humans arrived on the fleet. Some of the greatest minds Veildorm had aboard his ship had been assigned to it as they gathered research from all the different groups. Accumulating all that knowledge into figuring out exactly how the Human brain worked to control the rest of the body. Then comparing it to how the Archosian brain worked in order to find some way of making Archosian brains compatible with Human bodies. It wasn’t an easy task in the slightest considering how different the two species were physically but the project had made some very encouraging progress. It required a lot of modifications needing to be made to the Archosian brain but it was most certainly possible.

“Fine.” Another council member had grunted after listening to Veildorm’s explanation of the project. “You may proceed. But if this plan costs us what could be our new home world, you will be held accountable Commander. Is that clear?”

Veildorm nodded slowly. “Yes. I understand. Thank you.”

And with that, the transmission ended.

———

It was only a few weeks later that the first real transplant had been a success. One brave crew member had volunteered to be put inside the body of a skinny but rather hairy human male who’d been abducted from his camping site in the woods. Subject 34 from Group C AKA Sam Beckket.

When the Volunteer woke up he struggled to adjust at first. Even though his own brain had been augmented to work inside the human body, it wouldn’t have made the experience any less disorienting. He clearly struggled with the reduced amount of limbs and a massively different centre of gravity. Walking wasn’t easy for him at first but he steadied himself eventually and was just about able to stand on his own.

Veildorm was in the room as he awoke. He wanted to witness this with his own eyes rather than through a camera lense. And needless to say he was impressed by the results.

“How does it feel to have the body of a human?” Veildorm would eventually ask once the alien inhabiting the body of Sam Beckket had some time to adjust.

“It feels… tingly. Somewhat feeble but also durable at the same time… somehow.” He was still getting used to the sound of his new voice too. “And also… fizzy? Like there’s this innate energy about it. I can hardly describe it. It’s like I’m sitting in limbo between being an intelligent creature and a primitive animal.” He flexed his fingers slightly before running them down the furry expanse of his flat male chest. “It feels nice. Very fluid and malleable. And sensitive…” He trailed off as his fingers started to slide southward towards his new genitals.

Veildorm watched with wonder as one of his crew began to experience human sexual pleasure for the very first time. Touching his new penis as it slowly began to grow stiff and large while explaining to the scientists around him the exact sensations he was experiencing as he stroked it. He was right. It seemed primitive for one of his own men to have so quickly succumbed to the urges of the Human body. But at the same time it seemed so freeing. The way he smiled and groaned as he touched himself. Not just his cock but his whole body. As if every nerve created some sense of wicked pleasure that only drew him closer to a level of ecstasy the Archosians had never known. No wonder he wasn’t able to stop himself before shooting a load of Human semen all over the floor in front of him.

“Safe to say there hasn’t been any complications then?” Veildorm asked one of the scientists as the man who was once Sam Beckket collapsed onto the chair behind him in euphoric exhaustion. Hands still roaming across his new Human face and experimenting with the sensitivity of his male nipples.

“Not that we can tell. We’ll need to monitor him closely for the next twenty four hours of course but I think it’s safe to say the project has been a success.” The scientists confirmed.

Veildorm nodded proudly. “Perfect. Let me know if anything comes up. Otherwise start making plans for the rest of the Humans and make sure their bodies are suitable for the procedure. Meanwhile I can start drafting in some crew members to become Humans like our friend Sam here.”

The new Sam only grinned dumbly, drunk on his human body. If a skinny male form like that could feel so wonderful, Veildorm could only imagine how divine a form like Kenneth’s might feel. The crew member who ended up with that body would be a lucky soul indeed he thought to himself. Yes. Lucky… very lucky indeed… hmmm…

———

“Suppose I’ve got no choice.” Veildorm muttered to himself in the solitude of his quarters. “I’ll have to add myself.

He’d been going over the plans for the next step in his scheme to take over Earth. Standing before a spread of plans and research as he buffed out the kinks in his operation based on the intel gathered from the humans. And just as he’d been finishing off his list of crew members to be placed inside each viable Human host, there was one slot he’d left blank. The slot for Subject 109. Kenneth.

Veildorm had written down a multitude of crew names next to Subject 109 but everything he found himself erasing the name. He told himself that he needed to find a crew member that was truly worthy of a deluxe human vessel. Reasoning that they’d need to have a particularly strong will and natural dominant streak to be able to handle such a body. He’d run through the names of everyone aboard his fleet but none of them seemed to make the cut for the imaginary standards Veildorm had created. Nobody except for one of course.

Himself.

Of course nobody was meeting the criteria he’d set for Subject 109 because the criteria was practically a self portrait. A leader. Intelligent, strong and capable. Has a strong spirit and sense of reason. Someone who commands respect and gives it in return. Perhaps it was a little pompous of him to believe he had all these traits and more in droves but then again… wouldn’t a Human alpha male also be a little pompous? It was a perfect fit right? And in which case, wouldn’t Veildorm be doing Kenneth a great disservice by putting someone less deserving in a body like his. Surely it was only right for Veildorm to take on that responsibility himself to make sure that glorious form ended up in the right hands. His.

Veildorm had to stop himself from salivating as he scribbled his name down next to Subject 109. Immediately after he took a long deep breath as he stared down at the completed list. For a brief moment he considered erasing his name like he had all the others next to Subject 109. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. How could he possibly let that body go to anyone but himself? Not after all the special attention he’d given to Kenneth across the time he and the other Humans had spent here. All those visits. All the times he’d run his three scaly hands over those hairy pecs. All the times he’d cupped that sharp and oddly alluring human face. No. It had to be Veildorm. It wouldn’t be right for anyone else to take that spot.

He tried to convince himself that the intense pounding in his chest was simply due to his anticipation. He wasn't being selfish. Not at all. He was sacrificing his Archosian body so that he could take on the burden of that gorgeous hunk of Human meat. All for the sake of his people. What could be more selfless than that?

Soon after Veildorm handed off the paperwork to his assistant Garlund who’d been standing just outside the room. He was a timid little thing who was usually good for nothing but running errands for the Commander. As such he didn’t waste any time rushing out of the room with said paperwork so it could be handed off to the team who was handling the transplant procedures.

And as he stood alone in his quarters knowing that his decision was now locked in, that pounding in his chest had evolved into a warm buzz that spread through his entire body. Archosians could not feel arousal the way Humans did but if they could, Veildorm had to imagine it wasn’t far from the excitement he was feeling now.

———

Another week passed since Veildorm signed himself up for the program. In that time many more successful transplants had been performed and there had yet to be a single failure. Both Male and Female humans had made for perfect hosts. Each having their original brains removed and replaced flawlessly with that of an Archosian. Only three of the Humans had been deemed incompatible due to chronic illnesses which made for a total of eleven when combined with the unfortunate Group A. Still that left one hundred and nine Humans who were perfectly eligible for takeover. And by now, fifty-five of those had already been converted as former Archosians acclimated to their new Human shells. Another five were currently in the process of being converted. That left only forty-nine humans who by now dreaded whatever their fate entailed. Not that they could do anything to stop it.

And amongst those forty nine sat Kenneth. Held in a suffocating suspense like the rest of the remaining Humans. Not currently strapped down to any testing tables or chairs but simply cuffed and left to sit in a desolate room until he was inevitably taken away for his ‘treatment’. Usually they were taken in batches of five and seemingly at random. The scientists came in the room one every day or two to collect the next set. They didn’t know exactly what was going to happen to them. All they did know was that all who were taken didn’t return. Except for one. The first man. The one who’d been taken all on his own. Sam Beckket.

Just over a week after poor Sam had been taken away for the first trial procedure. He was escorted back to the processing unit where the rest of the humans were still waiting. At first they were relieved to see Sam alive, believing there might be a chance they’ll survive whatever was going to happen to them. At first the only difference was that his head had been shaved. What was really odd however was the fact that he was no longer in cuffs or restraints.

It soon became clear that something had changed about Sam. They had no idea what at the time but he was acting weird. When he spoke it was like he was still trying to get all the syllables in each word correct. And the way he moved was almost uncanny. And during the hour he was left alone with the other humans, he asked them all kinds of strange questions with a look in his eyes that no longer seemed human. Almost like he was an offshoot of the Sam that a few of them had gotten to know over the time they’d been here. A doppelgänger. Something that only became more apparent when he’d started talking about how good it feels to be human while not elaborating on exactly what he meant.

“There is no need to worry my fellow Humans.” Sam would tell them. “We’ve all been chosen to be part of something so much greater.” He continued on. If the remaining humans didn’t know any better, they’d say Sam had been brainwashed. Especially with how he glorified the Archosians that stole them from their home as this all knowing race that’d come to save their planet. “Earth and Humanity will be so much better off in their hands.”

Once ‘Sam’s’ hour was up, some Archosians guards re-entered the room to collect him. No barking orders. No dragging or handcuffing. Simply treating Sam as if he was one of their own. Leaving the humans to only wonder what kind of fate had befallen him and soon them.

Only seconds after the one who called himself Sam had been escorted from the room. The door opened up again. Only this time it was the Commander of this fleet. Veildorm himself. He’d never actually proclaimed his rank before the Humans but most could tell that he was the one in charge simply by the unique uniform he wore and the way all the other Archosians seemed to bend around him.

Veildorm walked along the line of Humans. Eyeing each and every one of them while saying a single word. He paced back and forth a few times over, nice and slowly to really make them squirm. Only to finally stop on his seventh repetition right in front of his favourite subject. Dear old Kenneth.

Still silent, Veildorm kneeled down and stared closer at Kenneth. His three eyes locked with the Human’s two. Surprisingly enough however, Kenneth was the one to finally break the devastating silence that’d been sucking the oxygen from the air.

“What the hell do you want from us?” He asked sternly, trying to hold onto what little semblance of bravery he had left. Impressive considering all he’d been through. “What the hell do you want from me?” He specified.

Veildorm reached out and stroked a scaly six fingered hand against Kenneth’s bearded face. Flashing a toothy grin at the oh so handsome Human before him. “Everything.” Was all he said. A simple response that somehow managed to convey everything while explaining nothing. And with that response, Veildorm stood properly once again. He took one last look at Kenneth before turning on his heel towards the exit.

“Not long now.” Were the last words Veildorm muttered before leaving the Humans alone yet again.

———

It was only a few days after that when Veildorm found himself lying flat on an operating table. A needle plunged into one of his veins as the good doctors around him began to flood his system with a sedative. During which they reassured him they would take the utmost care with him and his selected Human vessel to assure no complications arose. Hearing that was enough to allow Veildorm to relax into the effects of the sedation as his eyes began to grow heavy.

Just before he slipped under, the last thing he thought about was Kenneth. His mind fogged up with the image of that oddly alluring Human form of his that Veildorm had been obsessed with. He pictured that heavy hairy chest and those broad thighs. Those powerful glutes and bulging arms. And that adorably handsome face. And to think that when he awoke… that would all belong to him. It almost didn’t seem real. But until reality could prove it, he’d slip away into blissful unconsciousness.

Once he was out, the scientists and doctors began their work. Carefully opening up Veildorm’s Archosian skull until his brain was exposed and ready for the taking. They gently removed it from its previous home, leaving Veildorm’s original body an empty husk while his Brain was transported across the OR.

Then came phase two. They couldn’t just cut out an Archosian brain and stuff it into a Human head. The two wouldn’t be compatible. Not naturally anyway. So some augmentation was in order. Some of the best surgical hands Veildorm had aboard his fleet worked tirelessly to remould certain parts of his disembodied brain matter. A few parts were even removed entirely while some new artificial pieces were added in. They had to be careful as to not damage anything along the way or it could risk leaving the Commander with an assortment of permanent mental injuries. Luckily they hadn’t made a mistake yet on any of their previous procedures and with all the practice, they were even less likely to do so now.

The modifications took the longest to complete because of how delicate of a process it was. Even when compared to safely removing a brain. But after a solid thirty seven hours of continuous surgery with doctors swapping in and out on shifts, Veildorm’s brain was finally ready and compatible with the Human body. As such it was left in a large preservative tube while the doctors moved onto phase three.

Inside the chamber where most of the remaining Humans were now being held, Kenneth thrashed about as three crew members tried to restrain him. They’d been sent to collect him at the request of the doctors. There was only so much of a fight he could put up while cuffed and naked. Thus, his efforts were in vain. The rest of the Humans could only watch in horror as the strongest of them was dragged away into the unknown, leaving them to sit knowing that sooner or later it would be their turn.

Kenneth was sedated soon after being strapped down to an operating table. As soon as he was out, they began by shaving his head completely bald. After which his skull was carefully cut open to reveal his Human brain sitting inside, pulsing gently. The doctors and scientists got to work surgically removing Kenneth’s brain from his body. Serving its connections to the body with great care. And once it was out, they placed it inside a jar of preservative fluid for safe keeping alongside all the other Human brains. And that’s where it would stay. After that his body was vacant with space for a new brain to move in.

Only after all the necessary preparations had been made did the fourth and final phase of the transplant get underway. It was the most important one of all. The tube-like canister containing Veildorm’s augmented brain was wheeled beside the operating table where Kenneth’s body lay. After one final check to make sure everything was in working order, tools, body and brain, they got to work one last time on former Subject 109.

Veildorm’s brain was lifted gently from its canister. The inside of Kenneth’s skull was ready to receive it. The surgeons lowered their Commander’s elegant brain inside and began connecting it to its new and equally elegant Human body. Reattaching nerve endings. Connecting blood flow. Wiring everything up nice and neat. And though it’s not as simple as it might sound, the skilled doctors were able to perform the final phase of the surgery with flawless accuracy. It wasn’t long before Veildorm’s brain was pulsing in rhythm with Kenneth’s Human heart. His Human heart.

Once they were sure everything was in working order, the surgery was concluded by reattaching the top of Kenneth’s skull to his head. The scar where it’d been opened healed over within an hour thanks to the advanced medical tech Archosians had developed. There was hardly any trace at all that his head had been cut into, nor that his brain had been replaced with a far superior one.

———

The first thing Veildorm saw when he regained consciousness was the bright overhead lights of the examination room. He struggled to open his eyes as they fought to adjust. And yet even as his vision began to acclimate to the light, a profound sense of vertigo washed over him. It was as though he was laid against a spinning turn table that caused the ceiling above him to twist in and out of focus. As such he found himself squeezing his eyes shut again with a low groan. But even that felt wrong as it felt like only two of his three eyes responded. Yet his vision still went black behind his eyelids. Had one of his eyes gone blind? Surely not. He would still feel it wouldn’t he?

“Try not to move too much sir.” A voice said, somewhere on his right. He recognised it as the voice of one of his lead Scientists. “Your waking mind is still acclimating. It’ll take a bit of time before you fully adjust.”

“H-huh? Wha-?” Veildorm grumbled, only half comprehending the words. “Adjust? I don’t…” He trailed off as his mind struggled to piece together what was happening. It was as though a thick haze had settled over his thoughts.

“You’re going to feel foggy for a few minutes but your memories will return shortly. Your brain is just figuring out how to reboot in its new state.” The voice said again.

Veildorm didn’t respond. He just made another whirring noise as he tried his utmost to gather his thoughts. He dug through the dense mist that’d settled over his mind in search of answers. Little pieces came slowly. He remembered the planet Earth. How it’d looked so similar to his homeworld Archolm-Rem. He remembered celebrating with his crew at having discovered such a gem. And then those celebrations turned to long distance spying of the planet as they learned of its inhabitants…

Humans.

Before he could dig any deeper, Veildorm began to gain a deeper sense of his own body. And right away he knew that something was off. Though it was hard to put his finger on it while his eyes were still squeezed shut, he knew something was different. For a start he could only feel the faint buzz of pins and needles in two arms rather than three. Just like with his eyes, it was as though one of his arms had vanished somehow. As if it’d been amputated. Yet at the same time he didn’t feel as though anything was missing even if all logic dictated the opposite. Same went for the legs. He could only sense two. And on top of it all, he felt so squishy? Fleshy? As if he’d somehow shed his tough scaly exterior to reveal something supple underneath. Not to mention the strange weight between his legs that he couldn’t even begin to explain…

After a few long moments, Veildorm slowly opened his eyes again in a squint. Still only two of them. The light didn’t seem as harsh this time around and the room had mostly ceased its nauseous spinning. He took that as a sign to cautiously open his eyes a little further before turning his head to one side. Even that small motion felt odd. And as he looked around, he saw what he would’ve expected to see in the examination room. A small team of crew members, mostly doctors and/or scientists. Various monitors and cameras dotted around the space. An emergency medical kit close by. He was familiar with the sight from all the times he and his crew had examined specimens from other planets in rooms just like this around the ship. But never before had he seen it from this angle as the one being examined.

“W-why… am I here?” Veildorm croaked. He was starting to notice the stark difference in his voice now as well.

“Your operation was a success sir. Resoundingly so.” One of the many crew members around him said, though he couldn’t decipher which. “You were stable enough that we moved you out of the medical bay and into the examination room just a few hours ago. Scaring to the skull is minimal and best of all there have been no signs of rejection from your new body. We’ll need to monitor you closely for a few days to be certain but at this point it’s safe to say you’re in the clear.” The voice continued on gleefully.

“Operation? New body?” Veildorm’s train of thought from before was slowly beginning to move again. The Humans. He remembered now. He’d gotten tired of watching and decided to take matters into his own hands. Sending some elite troops to abduct and bring some of them back. They’d gotten so much juicy information out of them. And amongst them there was one in particular. Subject… 109? Yes 109. That was him. Veildorm had obsessed over that Human. So much so that when they commenced the project to replace all the Human’s brains with Archosian ones, Veildorm signed himself up to-

It hit him.

Veildorm’s eyes shot wide open as the fog finally began to lift. His heart felt as though it was about to hammer its way out of his chest as the realisation of what had happened dawned on him. A wave of pure adrenaline mixed with cautious excitement washed over him as he finally lifted his head to look down at himself. What he saw was nothing short of mind boggling.

Suddenly all the weird sensations made sense. The missing appendages. The lack of a third eye. The bewildering feel of his skin. All the things that made him uniquely Archosian seemingly stripped away. Because he wasn’t an Archosian anymore. Veildorm was a Human. Or rather he had the body of one. And just from this angle alone he knew exactly which Human he was inside. He could tell purely by the curvature of his pectorals and the modest hair that coated them. Not to mention the densely muscled arms that laid either side of him, now twitching as he tried moving them for the first time. There was no doubt. Kenneth. Subject 109. The most alluring of them all.

“Careful sitting up Commander.” Another doctor told him as they watched him already attempting to do so.

Veildorm groaned again slightly as his back and abs flexed for the first time. His vision dulled for a moment at the brief drop in blood pressure due to the sudden action. It didn’t help that he was still adjusting to seeing with just two eyes. Even as his blood pressure returned to normal seconds later, he struggled to keep his vision in focus properly. But that didn’t stop him from getting at least a somewhat decent look at his new body.

As his memories began returning in full, Veildorm of course remembered that he’d requested Kenneth’s body specifically. However that didn’t make it feel any less surreal to actually have it in his possession. Knowing it would soon be his and actually owning it were two very different things. And now he finally got to reap the rewards of the risks he’d taken since discovering Earth.

He lifted up his arms slowly. Just the two of them. Yet again feeling the subtle flex of Human muscle beneath his softer skin. Despite the fleshy exterior of the human body, it still managed to feel powerful. Even in the smallest of movements he could feel the potential for strength behind them. Not to mention the weight. His arms previously had been long and slender. These arms however were thick, bulky and heavy yet satisfying all the same. And as he moved his arms around he little, he noted how their size didn’t particularly seem to limit their range of motion beyond. A fact he already knew from all the human studies that’d been conducted but he tested nonetheless.

He reached around with one meaty human hand and used it to squeeze one of his biceps. At first the muscle yielded under his touch which was a strangely satisfying feeling. The moment he tensed the bicep however, it felt hard as steel. So fascinating. His curiosity only continued along that arm as he felt up the triceps next before moving along to his wide boulder-like shoulders. And finally his chest. The shivering that touching those hairy pecs sent up his human spine was unlike anything Veildorm had ever experienced. The way they were both firm and soft at the same time as he cupped them, using both hands now. It was euphoric. And the nipples that tipped them. They seemed pointless on the male body and yet they brought so much gratification just by grazing his fingers across them. His breathing stammered a little as he held his muscled human chest for a long moment. It was everything he’d imagined it would be.

“This… this is…” He struggled to stitch his thoughts into a full sentence as he finally pulled his hands away from his pecs so that he could examine them properly. Only five fingers instead of six. But they were meatier and less skeletal than his former hands had been. His palms were like calloused mitts where the soft human skin seemed to be at its roughest and toughest. As simple as it was, he couldn’t help clenching these new hands over and over in wonder. “This is… really something else.” He finished with a hitch of delight in his tone.

The Commander took a long deep breath and felt as the air passed through his new body before exiting again gracefully. With that he finally looked further south. Past his new abdominal muscles and towards his groin where an entirely new appendage hung. A Human penis and testicles, both sitting so heavy and elegant between his legs. Of course Veildorm had never before had reproductive organs like this which of course only made them more intriguing. Hypnotic even in the sense that he could hardly pull his attention away. He’d always found the Human male sex organs to be particularly fascinating to look at but not that appreciation had bloomed ten fold as he saw it through Human eyes. Especially knowing that he owned them.

His curious hands slowly made their way down towards the thick shaft. It’d grown to a half erection in the time he’d been awake due to his bubbling excitement and was now throbbing dutifully against his right thigh. A small gasp escaped his mouth when he finally clasped a palm around the girthy length. He knew from all the experiments that the Penis was an incredibly sensitive appendage but even still nothing could’ve prepared him for how wonderful it felt to encapsulate it. To really feel all those sensitive nerves spring to life, sending pleasure signals shooting up towards his augmented brain that caused his eyes to flutter. He only got as far as a few glorious pumps before he remembered that he was surrounded by his crew.

He pulled his hand back just as his cock had begun to blossom into a full on erection. “Wow. This thing is… alluring.” He muttered softly. “But I can hardly control it.” He continued on as he found himself unable to stop it from stiffening until it felt like a perpetually flexed muscle. No matter how much he tried to will it to return to a relaxed flaccid state, his new hefty cock stayed pointing straight up towards the ceiling.

“It’s not a simple appendage to control. It’s controlled more by subconscious bodily reactions and emotions than direct signals from the brain. It’s normal for human males to struggle to control it when aroused or stimulated.” One doctor said, maintaining professionalism. “As I’m sure you remembered from our many physical experiments.”

Veildorm nodded slowly. As he did however, his attention shifted towards his head. He noticed it briefly before but the small motion had called awareness to it yet again. The shape and weight of it, just like the rest of the Human form, was so unlike what he was used to. Enough so that his hands found their way up towards it so they could inspect its form.

The first thing that shocked him was the lack of any kind of snout like Archosians have. He was surprised he hadn’t noticed it sooner but the flatness of his face was jarring. No longer did his jaw and nose stuck out but rather they sat level with the rest of his features. His fingers roamed over the shape of his skull. Tracing over the ridges under skin as he examined each and every ridge. Everything was so much more compact.

And of course this meant that his hands found themselves running through his new facial hair. Between pressing his fingers to those Human lips and curling them around the ears, he allowed them to brush through the thick beard Kenneth had kept. Admiring its fullness with every little prickle the individual hairs made against his skin. It felt surprisingly satisfying to just scratch his nails through it and really admire how dense it was. Hair was such an interesting thing.

On the opposite side of the coin, Veildorm was equally bewildered by the lack of hair on his head. Especially when the Kenneth he knew had quite a nice head of it. Of course he was aware that the doctors had needed to shave it off. He thought he’d be more disappointed but honestly he didn’t hate the rough scratchy feeling of a shaved scalp. It was certainly a lot more pleasant to touch than he would’ve imagined but at this point the same went for every part of this new body.

Eventually Veildorm found himself attempting to swing his legs over the side of the bed he’d been sitting on. The movement was difficult at first and a little disorienting as the doctors persuaded him to be careful. Despite that, his new sizable Human feet soon touched the cold floor. Toes wriggling slightly as he geared himself up to stand. The doctors around him remained in standby, ready to catch him if ended up simply throwing himself on the floor. Thankfully they didn’t need to as Veildorm was able to stand himself up in one smooth motion. Powerful glutes flexed momentarily as he rose to his newfound full height before relaxing again. He wobbled slightly as he stood in place for a moment but he remained on his feet. Triumphant.

“There’s really no need to rush Commander. You should really give yourself a little longer to-” But before the doctor could finish, he had to watch as Veildorm took his first shaky step away from the bed.

“W-whoa. Okay…” Veildorm managed to maintain his balance despite stumbling just a little bit. Those strong meaty trunks he now called legs were doing a good enough job at keeping this body upright so far. So he didn’t waste much time taking another step. However he got a little too hasty that time and would’ve undoubtedly faceplanted into the floor had one of his crew members not caught his moments beforehand.

“Sir really. You should lie down for a bit longer. Give yourself some time to adjust. You’ve only just woken up.” They told him, almost begging now.

Veildorm glanced at the crew member holding him and then at the mirror across the room. “Fine. But only if you help me get a good look at my new reflection first. I need to see this.” He bargained.

The scientists and doctors shrugged and nodded, knowing full well the Commander wasn’t going to take no for an answer. And so the one holding Veildorm helped him take step after step across the room, cock still hard and bouncing with each one. Until finally, Veildorm was face to face with the reflective surface that showed him his new identity. Clear as crystal.

“I’m… a Human.” Veildorm whispered softly into the mirror. It was big enough to show not only his head but his torso too all the way down to his upper thighs. His mind struggled to process it initially. It wanted to interpret the sight as him looking into a monitor showing subject 109 because how could that possibly be him. But as the man in the mirror moved in sync with every tiny movement Veildorm made, it became impossible for his subconscious to deny. And as wonderful as that reality was, it was still hard to swallow. So much so that weird sense of vertigo from earlier began to return in small waves. For a moment leaving him a little faint as he leaned harder against the crew member trying to keep him steady.

He closed his eyes briefly and took a few deep breaths before opening them again. It was just enough to keep him afloat for now. With that he reached up to touch his new human face again. It was more intense now that he could see it reflected back at him. His human hand roaming over the pinkish skin and admiring the details. Then slowly slipping down his body again and touching each muscle, this time with even more care and wonder than before.

The sight of himself, both in the mirror and when he looked down, ignited a fire in his belly unlike anything he’d ever felt before. It was like a needy desire for himself. Something so deep and primal that was urging him for some kind of release. A type of sensation Archosians had never known. Lust. Raw, unfiltered lust. For himself. For this body. It was hard to comprehend how his new human instincts could desire his own body so badly. It made him want to grab and dominate himself somehow. But also to worship himself? It was difficult for his waking mind to interpret. All he knew was that his cock was now throbbing harder than ever as he found himself subconsciously bucking his hips in the mirror. A small bead of precum even welling up at the tip.

“This is… overwhelming. So intense. I feel like an animal but-” He stopped short as his hand finally reached his cock again, pumping it a few times. He couldn’t help himself. Until another wave of faintness washed over him. He would’ve collapsed on the spot had he not still been supported.

“Alright that's enough sir. Let’s get you back in bed to rest.” They told him. “The extra blood flow being conducted to your penis certainty isn’t helping right now.”

As Veildorm was helped back onto the medical bed, he couldn’t help but grin. This body was already showering him with so many delights he had yet to fully explore. He could hardly wait to have some time alone in the coming days to finally get to know Kenneth on a much deeper level than ever before…

———

“I’m starting to grow used to this human vessel you know.” Veildorm admitted as he allowed his hands to glide down his torso as he had many times before. He could still feel the satisfying itch of body hair beneath his fingers despite the thin translucent fabric clinging to his form. It did very little to hide the masculine elegance of his new body. “I truly didn’t expect it to feel so… comfortable.”

Two weeks had passed since Veildorm’s surgery had been a resounding success. In that time he’d gained much greater control over his new form. Within days he was able to move about completely unassisted. He’d gained better control over smaller functions like focusing his eyesight. He’d adapted to only having two arms and two legs. Even this new skin started to feel normal to him. Veildorm didn’t expect to be able to adapt this quickly but when you fall as deeply in love with your vessel as he did, it makes sense.

In that time his hair had started to grow back. No longer was his head shaved bald. Instead he rocked a short but neat looking cut that’d been trimmed slightly around the sides upon request. Not quite the elegant full hair Kenneth had maintained previously but it looked good nonetheless. Over time it was sure to regrow to its former glory. Unless he wanted to return to the bald look of course. He’d actually enjoyed that more than he thought he would. It was something to think about.

However one thing he knew he wasn’t ever going to shave was all this body hair. It was just delightful. The satisfaction he got from running his fingers through his chest hair was unlike anything else. It always seemed to trigger a response from his cock, no matter how mild. The same went for everywhere else on his body. His stomach. His face. His arms and legs. And of course he couldn’t forget his fuzzy new Human bubble butt.

Veildorm had only gotten to appreciate his new backside in the days following his procedure when he finally got some time to himself. The doctors had been reluctant to leave his side at first just in case something went wrong. But eventually Veildorm had convinced them to give him some privacy. That was when the real fun began.

The first thing he did was get up and stand before the mirror once again. Admiring his reflection in a way he hadn’t been able to with all those prying eyes on him. Groping at his muscle tits. Flexing his arms. Growling like an animal as he let the heightened testosterone of a human male in its prime take over his decision making. One of those decisions had been to turn around and get a good look at his new ass. Initially he wasn’t sure why he felt so compelled to look at it but as soon as he saw his new muscle ass in the reflection, he understood. A pair of large and powerful glutes covered in a modest dusting of hair. It was a brilliant sight, one that caused his altered brain to light up with an unbridled hunger. And despite it being an impossible task, he’d wished to plunge his own cock into those cheeks and into the hole they hid between them. And right on cue, his cock was hard as steel.

In hindsight it made sense as to why he’d felt that way. Thinking back to how Human males had a sensitive prostate that could be sufficiently stimulated via anal penetration, it only made sense for them to have an urge to do so. Whether it be to themselves or other males. And in that moment, Veildorm wasn’t sure which side of that coin he was more curious about. But instead he resigned to simply groping and kneading at the bubbly flesh of his ass while truly jerking his thick human cock for the first time.

Needless to say, Veildorm had experienced many human orgasms over the last two weeks. It was a pleasure that he couldn’t help indulging in whenever he had the privacy to do so. And what was the harm? There was no downside to it. He always felt refreshed afterwards. The act itself brought levels of pleasure he’d never before known. And getting to see such a heavy flow of virile cum spilling from his cock caused his chest to swell with such pride for his new vessel. He was well aware of how odd that pride was for simply knowing how highly capable he was of reproduction but it was a natural human response. Likely to encourage males to have offspring. Regardless he enjoyed the feeling enough that he found himself experiencing it again and again and again. Every time covering his hairy abs in a white glaze.

And now here he was. Fully adjusted. Standing in nothing but a tight plain uniform that hugged his muscled form,

“That is… great news sir.” A slender, blue skinned alien rattled from behind Veildorm. Standing by idly with his three spindly arms folded behind his back. Eyes fluttering and antenna twitching nervously in the presence of his commander. Garlund. “If I’m not mistaken, the doctors made sure to give you the most ideal of the male humans we had in stock.”

Veildorm turned to his nervously jittering assistant who seemed clueless as ever. “I’m aware. I requested this human for that exact reason. Mature but still young. High levels of testosterone. Most ideal distribution of fat, muscle mass and body hair.” He paused for a moment as his gaze landed on the not so subtle bulge between his legs. “And impressive levels of virility.” He allowed a lazy hand to graze his crotch, his professional composure slipping for a fraction of a second before returning. “I’ve had my eye on him for some time. On earth he would be considered an ideal mate. Still, I did not expect it to feel this pleasant.”

“Well I… I couldn’t be happier for you sir.” Garlund praised, finding it hard to look his Commander in the eyes as he spoke. “H-Have you spoken to the high council yet about our progress on your scheme?”

Veildorm shook his head. “Not yet but I plan to fill them in soon. We’re waiting on the last couple of Archosian to Human brain transplants to be completed. If they all go well I can report a one hundred percent success rate. With how skeptical they seemed last I spoke to them, that should help reassure them. Even if just a little.” He reasoned as he placed his hands behind his back in a very commanding sort of stance.

“And after that will we be proceeding to the next step?” Garlund asked, rubbing two of his hands together. “What we’ve done already was such a leap beyond protocol. But to take it even further by dropping you and the others on Earth??”

“We will.” Veildorm confirmed with certainty. “Infiltrating Human society is necessary for taking their planet from them and making it our own. We can deepen our understanding of them. Learn their strengths and weaknesses as a population. Then plan accordingly.” He glanced down at himself. Watching the way his broad chest rose and fell with every breath. Such a sight to behold. “I will take on the name of Kenneth Barnes and use this identity to help make Earth our new utopia.”

Garlund sniffled. “Wow sir. You’re such an inspiration. To sacrifice your true body to become one of them out of pure dedication to our cause. You are something else.” He said, laying it on a little thick. “It’s a shame you’ll be stuck like this though. The doctors say there’s no way to reverse the augmentations to the brain.”

“I’m aware of that too.” Veildorm hummed. “It’s no matter. I’ve resigned myself to this Human fate and I’m more than content to see it through.” He glanced across the room at a small mirror that sat on his desk. In it he saw his new bearded face. Handsome but so far from what he once knew. “Like I said, it’s comfortable. And oddly… liberating in many ways. Not to mention humans seem to have a similar life span to us and Kenneth here was a good ten years younger than I was. So if anything I’ve given myself more time in this life. That I’m grateful for.”

“Liberating… I can only imagine what it must feel like.” Garlund croaked. “Humans do seem very graceful.” He continued on with morbid curiosity flooding his tone.

Veildorm smirked. “If you’re that curious maybe we’ll have to bring back another batch of humans in the near future. Sign you up for a transplant.” He said half jokingly.

“O-oh I’m not so-o sure I cou-uld.” Garlund stumbled through his words clumsily at the offer.

“Think about it. Who knows? You could join me someday. I’m sure we could find you a human vessel befitting an assistant for my new self.” Veildorm teased before tuning on his heel and walking over towards his desk. “Anyway, I have some work to attend to. I need to make sure everything is in order for my second in command when I leave this fleet in his hands. Some privacy would be appreciated.”

Garlund nodded, still a little flushed from the Commander’s prior offer. “Of course sir. I won’t be far if you need anything.” He said before slinking away out the door and into the vast hallway, leaving Veildorm alone.

He sighed as he sat and leaned back in his seat, legs spread as most humans males did. It was true that he still had lots to prepare but he had more than enough time to get it all done. In the meantime there was no reason he couldn’t have a little more fun and relax a little. He’d earned it after all the risks he’d taken. At least that’s what he told himself the last dozen times he whipped out his cock and blew a huge load all over himself in creamy ecstasy.

He pawed at his bulge a little as reached down and opened one of his desk drawers. Inside rolled the shaft of one of the many probes that’d been used on the males during the experiments. Bulbous and phallic. Next to it rolled a small canister of lubricant.

“About time I take this backside for a real test drive before heading to Earth.” He told himself as he pulled both out of the draw and started lubing up the probe. Shortly after he stood and placed it down on his chair before removing the thin uniform that kept his body hardly concealed. After that he didn’t waste any time lowering himself onto the cock-like substitute with a deep moan that could no doubt be heard from outside his quarters.

Veildorm was going to make the absolute most of this new body and he couldn’t be more excited to mingle with the rest of the humans on Earth.

He had only meant to look for a set of folding chairs. His mother was hosting the family that weekend, and Will, home from college for a week, had been sent upstairs with a flashlight and strict instructions not to “start digging through memories.” Which, naturally, meant he started digging through memories almost immediately.

Continued from Pt1 here.

Jake lasted in his old body for one whole day.

On Tuesday night, after pretending not to think about it through two seminars, one studio work session, and an entire miserable dinner of cold leftover lo mein, he opened the box again. The blue vial waited.

BRO

“It’s just a test,” Jake said and he drank it while removing his shirt and walking into his bathroom - eager to see how BRO would change him - hoping he wouldn't regret giving up being a cowboy.

This one hit faster. His body did not age upward. It snapped younger and larger at the same time, like a rubber band released. His skin brightened even as his chest expanded. His shoulders widened, but differently from Cowboy Jake’s. Less weathered, more gym-built. His arms thickened with an easy athletic fullness. His stomach firmed. His waist stayed trim. His thighs pressed into his athletic shorts, filling them until the fabric was taut, exposing the bulge of his changing dick.

Jake had always been better at imagining rooms than entering them. That was what architecture school had taught him, or maybe what it had exposed about him.

He could spend hours thinking about how a hallway narrowed before opening into light, how a ceiling height changed the feeling of a room, how brick looked different at dusk than it did at noon.

For fun he liked to paint. He could paint until three in the morning with a podcast playing and a half-finished video game paused beside him. He could present a model and explain, carefully, why a wall bent the way it did.

Jay watched as the mature man who’d just destroyed his ass sauntered off into the bathroom to grab a towel for them both to clean up with. He could still feel the cum drooling from his hole and down one of his thighs as he laid atop the bed sheets. Just feeling that warm nut inside of him was like heaven on earth. There was no other feeling in the world that could top it. And it was always the best when it came from an older daddy like Dale.

Dale was about 58 years of age, making him just over 30 years Jay’s senior. Yet despite that he’d still fucked Jay’s soft youthful ass like his life depended on it. Thrusting his dad dick as deep as it would go for what felt like an eternity before he finally emptied his fat nuts right down to the last drop. All the while telling Jay what a good boy he was for taking it so damn well. Right up until he dislodged his thick cock with a wet pop

It was impressive for a man his age to still be capable of dominating and breeding a younger guy like Jay. His greying chest hair, silver beard and lack of head hair might lead one to believe his days of fucking like a stallion were behind him but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Dale kept himself in good shape and still hooked up with a wide variety of men on the regular.

“Having sex with cute younger guys like you helps keep my cock young.” Dale had claimed earlier in the evening between kisses. And after having been railed by it, Jay began to wonder if there might’ve been some truth to that with how rock hard that vintage cock had managed to get. Of all the older men Jay had been with, he could say without a doubt that Dale was most virile. It was no wonder he kept coming back for more.

Sure there were other men Jay saw. All older than him with varying amounts of grey in their hair. Some were lean and in shape. Others were thick and fat. Some of them were hairy from head to toe while others were smooth and clean. Plenty of them were conventionally attractive while some were more on an acquired taste. But the one thing they all had in common was that they were daddies. As long as they fit that label in some way or another, Jay would be all over them. Pining for their love and affection in any way that he could. Eager to do anything to please them.

Daddy issues. Though at this point it was more of a daddy addiction. There were many sources he could point for an explanation as to where his love for older men stemmed from. His lack of a consistent father figure growing up. His strained relationship with his mother. The abundance of older male teachers that made up the staff of his old high school growing up. But whatever the reason may be, Jay honestly didn’t care. All he knew was that there was no better feeling than having a sexy daddy lovingly thrust inside of his ass while holding him tight. And nobody did that better than Dale.

Jay had long since lost count of just how many times he and Dale had fucked. They’d been casually sleeping together for just less than a year now. They both hooked up with a ton of other men in between but they always came back to one another. Usually within a week. It only became clearer with every night they spent together that they were each other's drug of choice, no matter how many other men came and went from their individual sex lives.

Once the two of them had gotten cleaned up, they found themselves snuggled up in Dale’s bed as they so often did. Jay’s head resting on Dale’s furry chest as they basked in the afterglow of it all. Legs tangled together as Dale rubbed a weathered hand along Jay’s back.

“I hope that in twenty or thirty years I’ll grow to be a hot daddy like you.” Jay hummed against Dale’s chest. It was something he’d envisioned for years. Hoping that one day he’d get to become one the very same kinds of men he fawned over. It was a long way away yet. He still had the rest of twenties ahead of him. But it certainly gave him something to look forward to as he got older.

Dale glanced down at Jay. “You do huh?” He questioned with a tone that seemed oddly measured.

Jay turned his head up slightly to meet Dale’s gaze. “Yeah. Why is that weird?”

Dale shook his head. “No, not at all. It’s just…” he paused as if he was unsure whether he wanted to continue.

“It’s just… what?” Jay raised a slight eyebrow.

The older man pursed his lips slightly before furrowing his brow, clearly having an internal debate with himself about something. In the end he didn’t say anything. At least not before getting up from the bed and marching over towards the dressing table on the other side of the room.

Jay could only watch with curiosity as Dale pulled open the middle draw before reaching all the way to the back. Moments later Dale pulled out what appeared to be a tiny black box. And an ornate one at that.

“What’s in there?” Jay asked innocently.

“Something very special.” Dale claimed with the beginnings of a smirk forming on his face. “I’ve been waiting for just the right person to share it with and I think that person might be you.” He continued while making his way back over towards Jay. Dale shuffled back onto the bed beside the younger man, glancing up at him briefly before looking back down at the box in his hand. Without a second thought, he flipped open the lid to reveal what was inside.

A pair of rings. They weren’t too fancy, displaying a smooth and simple look. No gem stones. No swanky patterns. There did seem to be something engraved around the orbit of each ring but it didn’t appear to be English. They looked almost like wedding bands. What did make them stand out however was their unique colour. Instead of gold or silver, one of the rings was a bright glimmering blue while the other was deep crimson red.

Jay’s expression twisted with confusion and slight concern. “Dale? What is this? You’re not proposing to me… are you?” He asked hesitantly. He wasn’t against the idea of getting married someday but he and Dale weren’t even in an official relationship!? He’d thought about asking Dale out on a proper date for quite some time now but this definitely seemed like it was skipping a few steps.

Thankfully Dale shook his head with a small chuckle. “No these aren’t wedding rings. They’re so much better than that.” He reached inside and pulled out the red ring before giving it to Jay. He then took the blue ring out for himself before setting the empty box down on the bedside table.

“Better how?” Jay felt as though he was just asking an endless slew of questions at this point as he examined the crimson red ring. It was large, as if made for a man with much meatier hands than either of them. The only way he could see himself wearing it was via a necklace because there was no way it’d stay on any of Jay’s scrawny fingers. “Are they really expensive or something?”

Dale shrugged. “I suppose but that’s not what makes them special. It’s their unique properties.” Dale rolled the blue around his palm a little, watching as it so elegantly caught the light. “They have the power to do something truly wonderful that I think you’d enjoy just as much as me.” Dale explained rather cryptically, his gravelly voice dipping lower in a way sent a small shiver up Jay’s spine. Dale moved closer before continuing. Closing the space between them until his bearded lips sat right next to the younger man’s ear. “They can swap our bodies.”

Jay’s eyes widened. “Swap our bodies?!” He repeated as he pulled away from Dale slightly, wondering if maybe he’d misheard the hairy daddy.

Dale nodded. “You got it boy. Full on freaky Friday. We put these rings on and poof. You’re me and I’m you for as long as we want.”

Jay couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re joking right?” He said. But as he chortled, Dale’s face didn’t change. Only holding that same smirk. So much so that Jay’s laughter soon began to die down. “Wait. You’re actually not joking.”

“Nope. Dead serious.” Dale stated. “You want to know what it’s like to be a daddy right? Why wait decades when you could experience it right now.” He reasoned while gesturing down at himself. Even going as far as to tease Jay by running a single hand through the thick body hair he knew the younger man loved so much. “All this could be yours.”

“I uhhh… I don’t…” Jay couldn’t think of what to say. Any sane person wouldn’t believe a word Dale was saying. Yet he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have the body of his favourite daddy. To have the mature cock that’d bred him so well and deep time after time. To feel those silver bristles on his face. Perhaps Jay wasn’t as sane as he thought he was because he quickly found himself desperate to believe in the power of these rings.

“You don’t have to say anything. I can tell you want this just as badly as I do.” Dale said as he reached out and placed a rough hand on Jay’s shoulder. His eyes scanned Jay’s body as he tried not to salivate at the thought of being so young and full of life again. “Just put on the ring and I can prove it’s real.” After a small moment, Dale pulled his hand back before slipping the blue ring onto his right index finger. Even on Dale’s larger hands, the blue ring still hung loose. His eyes then flickered back to Jay, wordlessly urging him to trust.

Jay gulped. He looked down at the red ring sitting in his palm. He was expecting Dale to laugh at any moment and tease him for being so gullible but the older man stayed stoic. And so after a long pause, Jay finally did it. He slipped the ring onto the exact same finger Dale had. He had to keep his hand upright for it not to slip right off. Or at least… this is until it started to glow.

Both the red and blue rings began to shimmer in unison. It was too bright to be a trick of the light. But before Jay had a chance to question it, his eyes widened in disbelief as the red ring resized itself to fit his finger perfectly. The same happened to Dale’s ring, now fitting snug on the silver fox’s weathered index.

“Oh-hoo w-what the hell…” Jay stuttered.

Dale seemed unfazed. “This is perfect. That means they’re ready to be activated. Now all we have to do is kiss. The magic should take care of the rest.”

“You say that like you’ve done this before.” Jay said, voice shaky with uncertainty.

Dale shook his head. “Nope. But I’ve seen it happen. The person who gave them to me showed me how they worked by swapping with his partner. I wouldn’t have believed it myself otherwise.” He shuffled closer to Jay, closing what little distance there was between them on the bed. He reached out his hands and cupped Jay’s face. “Now. Are you ready?”

Jay didn’t speak. He only nodded his head slowly.

With that Dale leaned forwards and pressed his bearded lips against Jay’s. For the first second or so it seemed normal. And then, a spark! A surge of magical energy flooded through their bodies and mind, filling them both up to the brim. The kiss didn’t. Their bodies continued to make out on autopilot as their souls were dragged out from the core of their beings. Tethered to the magic and pulled upwards. Their throats bulged slightly as their souls came up and out of their mouths, pushing past each other via the kiss. Jay’s soul entered Dale’s mouth and vice versa before forcing their way down the opposite man’s throat and into each other’s bodies. Eventually settling deep inside their new hosts.

As soon as the magic dissipated the two men broke their kiss. They opened their eyes at the exact same time and what they saw was almost impossible for their minds to process. They were looking at each other's faces. It was like staring into a mirror only so much trippier.

Dale watched as his former wrinkled face twisted with disbelief. He couldn’t believe how much older he looked from the outside. He knew he was getting to a ripe age, the bathroom mirror had reminded him of such everyday, but seeing someone else wear those features he used to own put a new light on it. Perhaps it was these young eyes. He could see so much clearer with them. Every crease, every wrinkle and every grey hair on his old body was suddenly in high definition.

And then there was Jay. His thoughts were going a mile a minute as he tried to comprehend what’d just happened. Of course as he looked over at his own youthful face, he knew that the magic in those rings must’ve been real. But still. It was so hard for him to believe in those first few moments. Yet with every second that passed, he would notice something that would only serve to confirm what he already knew. The way his vision was blurrier than normal. His hearing wasn’t as clear. There was a tired ache that pulsed through his muscles. And there was the subtle itch of body hair far more dense than he was used to.

“Ohhh wow.” Dale said, already enjoying the youthful sound of his new voice. “I’d forgotten what it was like to feel so young. It’s invigorating!” He boasted as he rolled his shoulders a little.

Jay could only stare in disbelief as his former body began checking itself out with Dale now firmly behind the wheel. Hands roaming up and down his torso before coming up to admire his face. Talking about how smooth his skin felt and how sharp all of his senses were. He was practically in a world of his own. Even as he shamelessly reached down to grab at his cock. Jay’s cock.

“You’re…” Jay was barely able to finish a word without reaching up to touch his throat. His voice was so much raspier than before. And as he touched his neck, he couldn’t help but notice the thick bristles of facial hair that extended down towards his Adam’s apple. The feeling of which caused his new larger hands to rise up his neck and towards his face, a chill running up his spine as his fingers brushed through the dense facial fur. It wasn’t his but he recognised it immediately. So thick and full. It was Dale’s. A fact that was only further confirmed as his hands continued to explore his face. Feeling the roughness of his skin and the smile lines above his mustache. The broadness of his nose, the wrinkles around his eyes, the thickness of his eyebrows. Most jarring of all, the sudden lack of hair on his head as a result of Dale’s receded hairline. He still had some around the sides and back but there were only a few wisps on top.

They locked eyes again.

“So? How do you feel?” Dale asked with a gleeful smile.

Jay could hardly speak. He was so overwhelmed by the sudden shift in how he experienced the world around him that his mind was struggling to keep up. Even just the way his chest rose and felt with every breath was throwing him off. For a moment he thought he was going to faint when a wave of light headedness washed over him. He blinked a few times and waited for it to pass. It was only as his former hand reached out for his shoulder to comfort him that he was finally able to find the words to express himself.

“I feel… I feel… old.” Simple but true.

Dale smiled at him reassuringly. “That’s because you are. You’re a total daddy now.” He said, not being able to help biting his lip a little as he drank in the sight of his former body. He had to admit, it looked so much hotter from the outside. Dale never quite realised just how much of a daddy he’d been until this very moment. No wonder so many younger men like Jay threw themselves at him. He wanted to do it right now!

Jay finally plucked up the courage to look down at himself and the sight took his breath away. The forest of hair covering his torso was impossible to miss. The same hair he’d been burying his face into less than half an hour ago. It was grey around his upper chest and shoulders but got darker as it went down. The fur was so mesmerising that he almost didn’t notice the difference in his shape. Instead of the tight lean frame, he now had a touch more muscle. It was finely aged muscle though, evident by the slight sag of his pecs. Still though, he felt surprisingly sturdy and strong.

He lifted a hand up towards his chest and began to massage one of his hairy pecs. He’d worshipped them on Dale so many times before but now he actually owned them. They were his to touch and grope as he pleased. Even these nipples. Jay’s former nipples had never given him much pleasure so when Dale had explained how sensitive his ones were, it’d been hard for Jay to truly understand. They were puffier than Jay’s ever were. The kinds of nipples you could regularly see through a shirt, especially if it was cold. He’d suck on them for Dale a lot of the time and watch as the older man’s face twisted with glee while deep groans escaped his mouth. That thick dad cock growing hard as steel under the stimulation. And now, owning them for himself, Jay could finally understand why. They were like goddam lightning rods! Just brushing his fingers over them sent jolts of pleasure through his body and towards his dick in a way that made his eyes roll.

“Am I really… you?” Jay asked hesitantly, glancing up at Dale while continuing to rub his hands across his torso.

“Mhm.” Dale nodded. “And I’m you.”

Jay’s expression flickered between bewilderment, disbelief and at last a hint of joy that was beginning to shine through as he processed it all. The tiniest smirk broke from his lips as he inspected himself further. Flexing his muscles slightly and feeling the size of his new arms. Dale had always kept in such good shape and it showed. His biceps were still nice and thick, giving him that old man strength which had always made it easy for him to pin down younger guys. And now Jay could sense that power with every flex. It was invigorating.

Slowly he pushed himself off the bed, wobbling a little as he stood up straight in this body for the first time. It took a moment to adjust but once he did he couldn’t help but admire his new hairy legs a little before reaching back to grab at his ass. Dale’s ass. Jay had eaten it out so many times before, eagerly stuffing his face between those soft furry cheeks. He’d even been lucky enough to fuck it a handful of times when Dale was in the mood to bottom. But now it was all his to own and flaunt. His to slap and show off whenever he pleased. He couldn’t stop himself from digging a finger towards that tight sensitive dad hole and feeling the way it clenched automatically.

But of course what stole his attention the most was Dale’s cock. How could it not? Having another man’s dick between your legs was an experience like no other. You spend your whole life getting to know the dick you were born with, never expecting to know any different. So to actually experience a different length and girth was beyond imagination. Even down to the tiny details like the way it curved or the difference in size between the head and the shaft. It was all so wonderful and confusing at the same time as Jay held it gently in his hand, already at half mast. Though of course he wasn’t totally unfamiliar with it. He’d sucked it more times than he could count, happily gulping down its load each and every time. He’d felt it slamming against his prostate in a way that made him see heaven until he bred nice and deep. But never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d get to see it from this angle. To feel it as a part of his body rather than simply inside of it. Even the hefty dad nuts that’d marked him with their seed time and time again now swung pendulously between his legs.

“I can’t believe this is real.” Jay while giving his new cock a few experimental tugs, noticing all the slight differences in sensation.

“You better believe it Daddy.” Dale teased. “But you could already use the mirror to confirm but checking out that sexy face of yours” He added while nodding towards the bathroom. All the while trying not to lick his lips at the sight of his old mature body probing and prodding at itself with Jay behind the wheel.

Jay looked over at the bathroom door, then back at Dale and finally back down at himself. He wasn’t sure if he was ready. All of this was so much to take in. Almost too much. He could feel his heart pounding rapidly in his chest as the ration part of his mind wanted to freak the hell out at having been tossing into a body that was over 30 years older than he was supposed to be. But holy hell if all the other parts of him didn’t think this was the hottest thing that’d ever happened to him in his entire life. It was just so difficult to wrap his head around it.

Dale soon jumped up from the bed with a bounce in his step before prancing over the Jay and slinging an arm over his shoulder. “Go onnnn.” He urged while guiding Jay towards the bathroom. “Just have a look. Trust me, I think you’re gonna love seeing how much of a sexy daddy you are now. My old body looks so fucking good on you.” Dale insisted before planting a kiss on one of his former bearded cheeks. “That is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Jay nodded.

“Then go check yourself out daddy-o!” Dale gave his former hairy dad butt a cheeky slap as he all but shoved Jay into the bathroom.

Once inside, it took Jay a moment to finally turn his head towards the glass. But when he did, his entire sense of reality came crashing down in the most mind bending way imaginable. There had still been a large part of his mind that expected to see the same 25 year old face he’d always known staring back at him despite the fact that Dale was now wearing it. It must’ve been his mind’s way of coping with something so impossible. But now even that flimsy illusion had been broken. The visage staring back at him was none other than the face of the man who'd been the one constant in his life for the past year. The man who turned him on in ways nobody else ever could. The man who fulfilled his daddy kink in every way. Dale.

If he hadn’t felt so disoriented at the sight, he might’ve nutted on the spot. Evidenced by how his cock had sprung from a hesitant half erection to hard as a rock in seconds. But he was able to ignore it for now as he found himself entranced by his new reflection.

At first he simply looked into his new eyes as he remembered all the times Dale had peered lovingly at him with them. They were always so bright and blue as if they were somehow younger than the rest of him. Only now he could see that the soul behind them was different. But that didn’t stop them dilating with uncontrollable desire as he took in every last feature. He’d already felt them but getting to actually see it all as he touched those finely aged features was a whole different level. He couldn’t help dragging his fingers along his rough facial hair yet again, grunting with satisfaction at the scratching sound it made against his skin. Running them over his mustache before moving upwards to his nose and upper cheeks. Relishing in the looseness of his skin as it yielded in a way that younger skin wouldn’t. Even something as simple as touching his ears somehow felt erotic when every tiny difference served to make him hornier.

“I look amazing…” He breathed while slowly running a hand along the top of his head yet again, savouring the fine work of male pattern baldness. It was something most men feared and would do anything to avoid but to Jay it only made Dale’s body look even hotter. To him it felt like a stamp of both wisdom and masculinity that could only be awarded with age as a symbol of daddiness. Seeing it only made his cock throb harder before spluttering enough precum to finally catch his attention.

He reached a hand down to grab at the pulsing shaft. He bit back a low moan as he began stroking it helplessly. It was practically begging for it at this point. How could he ignore such an insistent dad dick? Especially when it belonged to him. As such he guided his hand back and forth at a steady pace. All the while he found himself admiring the rest of his body again. His free hand sliding up and through the mat of chest hair, squeezing his pecs and teasing his sensitive nipples. Rubbing up and down his fuzzy stomach before reaching around his waist and sliding back up to admire his lats and back. In truth he wasn’t that much bigger now than he was in his old body, but everything still seemed so wildly different from what he’d known. Even just the way his shoulders seemed to curve or how the veins coiled along his biceps. He just couldn’t get enough!

Though amongst exploring the vastness of his hairy new being, his hand eventually found itself drifting towards one of his armpits. He’d been so distracted by everything else that he hadn’t thought to lift his arms and check them out yet. It was a wonder considering how much Jay had always loved shoving his nose into Dale’s pits and getting drunk off that manly scent. Especially if Dale had just come from the gym. Jay would eagerly run his tongue along those furry pits and lap up every last drop of sweat as he lost himself in the mind numbing smell. Most of the time he wouldn’t even have to ask. Dale could just sense when Jay was craving it. As such he would simply lift an arm before grabbing Jay by the back of his head and pressing his face into one of those pungent pits. Half the time, that alone would be enough to get Jay to nut in his underwear.

And now those pits were his. So hairy and dripping with that masculine aroma he adored. How could he possibly stop himself?

Before he knew it, Jay had lifted his free arm behind his head purely so could nuzzle his new nose into one of those gorgeous armpits. The scent hit him immediately as it filled his nostrils like a drug. That first little sniff was all it took to have him huffing on it like a maniac. It smelt just as incredible as ever, if not better knowing that it was coming from his body now. It was his gorgeous scent. He owned it.

“Ohhhhhh… god yes!” He groaned into his pit as he lapped up the scent like a mad dog. “Mine… all mine….” He continued on, referring not only to his new scent but this ravishing body as a whole. He loved every inch of it. No matter where he looked or touched, it drove him crazy with lust. It was like a never ending buffet.

“Mmmmmphmm fuuuuuuckkk!” He roared louder now as he alternated between sniffing his pits and pinching at his nipples aggressively. All the while jerking his new cock with increasing desperation. His brain was practically lit up like a Christmas tree under all the stimulation. Eyes rolling while his mouth hung a little slack. “I’m such a hot daddy… oh god I’m such a hot fuckin daddy…” He chanted to himself. There was no stopping him now.

Jay continued to worship himself to no end. Touching both his body and face. Sticking his fingers in his mouth to suck on while he jerked. Flexing and posing while moaning to no end just so he could hear the sound of his borrowed voice echoing off the walls and reverberating through his chest. And of course he couldn’t help grabbing his ass again. Reaching his hand back and grabbing at the furry cheeks, loving how pliable they were. He’d always loved to watch Dale walk away from him in the nude just so he could watch his dad butt jiggle with every step. Now it was all his to jiggle.

He couldn’t hold out any longer. His balls began to tighten as they churned a heavy load. He could already feel the cum rising alongside the sensitivity of his dick. Before long he passed the point of no return. The last thing he did was simply stare at himself again. Locking eyes with his reflection in one final bout to drink it in before he finally erupted.

“GGRROOUHHHHHHhhhhhhoohhh…” Jay bellowed uncontrollably, still grabbing at his ass while his girthy dick launched what felt like an endless stream of creamy dad cum. Covering the sink, the mirror, his hand and even the floor as some of the last few drops landed on his feet. It was an intense high, the likes of which he didn’t think he’d ever experienced before. Perhaps it was just the thrill of being inside the body of his dreams but that was easily one of the best orgasms he’d ever had!

Once Jay had finally managed to cool off, he started to clean up a little. Mainly washing his hand after licking some of the cum off it and wiping the floor. Finishing by giving the mirror a quick wipe as well and taking in his reflection one last time in the process. It wasn’t long after that he stepped back into the bedroom only to find Dale sprawled out on the bed with a fresh load coating his youthful stomach. Seems like Jay wasn’t the only one having fun.

“Sounds like you enjoyed yourself.” Dale said bluntly with a grin.

Jay reciprocated with a grin of his own. “Still am.” He claimed. However his face softened a little soon after. “Though, you never explained how we go about swapping back. Not that I want too yet. I’m loving this. I just don’t like not knowing the facts.”

Dale grabbed the same towel Jay had used to towel off earlier after they’d had sex. “Well like I said before, we can stay this way for as long as we want. It can be days, weeks, months. Even years. It all comes down to the rings.” Dale held up his right hand, still wearing the crimson red ring Jay had put on. “As long as we’re both wearing them, we stay swapped. The moment one of us takes our ring off however, our souls get sent back to our proper bodies.”

Jay glanced down at the blue ring he now wore. Knowing he could choose to end the swap whenever he pleased definitely gave him that little piece of mind he needed to really enjoy this experience to the max. “That’s good to know. But will we be able to use them again once we go back? Is this like a one time deal or…?”

Dale shook his head. “Nope. We can do it as often as we like. All we have to do is put the rings on again and kiss like before. Then presto, we’re back in each other's bodies.”

“Well.” Jay began. “In that case I think we’re gonna have a lot of fun from now on. Don’t you?” His grin returned, even cheekier than before as waltzed over and climbed back onto the bed.

“I should hope so.” Dale replied, eyes glued onto his former mature body as Jay laid himself down beside Dale.

“Now how’s about you be a good boy and snuggle up to daddy.” Jay said while patting his chest.

Dale practically jumped at the offer. “Yes sir!” He responded before shuffling closer until their bodies were intertwined and Dale's head was nestled firmly against the hairy chest he no longer owned.

———

A year passed since that night. In that time Dale and Jay had become exclusive. They both stopped seeing other men just a few months after their first swap. Before long they only craved one another and the feeling of being inside each other's bodies. So much so that they found themselves swapping almost every time they met up.

Sometimes they would swap almost immediately after meeting up. They’d slip on their rings and greet one another with a kiss that would swap them on the spot, staying that way until it was time for them to get back to their separate lives again. Other times they’d wait until they were having sex. Dale would have his thick dad cock buried deep inside Jay’s ass when they would slip on the rings and kiss. Next thing they knew, Jay was the one on top fucking while Dale was getting his hole drilled by his former dick. They never got tired of doing it that way.

It got to the point where they spent almost all of their time together swapped. Dale loved being young and Jay loved being a daddy. It was the perfect arrangement really. And it only got worse when after six months of swapping, they finally decided to move in together. Once that happened they must’ve spent pretty much all their free time in one another’s bodies to the point where it started to feel normal. As if that was the way it was supposed to be.

Now after an entire year, they’d taken it a step further. After a lot of preparation, they’d started taking shifts at each other’s jobs! Naturally it’s been a little awkward trying to adjust and fit in but overall they’ve got scarily good at playing their roles. So much so that before long they might not have to swap back at all if they don’t feel like it. They could just live life in the other’s body.

Regardless though, they’d decided to make things official. After a lot of dancing around it, Dale and Jay were finally a couple. Their significant age gap had already been raising eyebrows from the moment they started living together and even more so now they are actually boyfriends but neither of them cared. They knew this was what they wanted more than anything else.

Jay especially. It’d gotten to the point where he didn’t feel like himself anymore when he wasn’t inside Dale’s mature hairy body. The only problem was that if they decided to make this permanent someday, Jay would effectively lose 33 years of his life. As much as he adored being a daddy, he wasn’t sure if that’s what he wanted to sign up for long term. As such, he and Dale have been hard at work trying to track down another magical artefact. It was an amulet capable of slowing down the aging of whoever wears it by around 75%. All they had to do now was find it and they could both live long and happy lives in the bodies of their dreams.

Until that day however, they would just have to enjoy the present. And enjoy it they did as they fucked almost endlessly in their swapped bodies. A daddy and his boy.

(AI Assisted - Finally got around to finishing the next story from the poll, and this one is inspired by the short film "THE BLACK HOLE" from 2008. I recommend watching the short film first to get a sense of its concept!

Also, a fair bit of warning, this story focuses a lot on the humiliation kink and being trapped in someone much bigger, heavier, and hairier. Which I'm sure some of you might really enjoy! /Verus)

The chemistry lab at Westview College felt like a forgotten corner of the world during lunch break. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, their cold glow casting long, harsh shadows across the scuffed linoleum floor. The air hung heavy with the acrid bite of sulfur mixed with the sharp sting of ethanol, scents that seeped into my clothes and lingered on my skin. I sat hunched over our cluttered workstation, my fingers tinted a deep blue from the chemical compounds I had been carefully mixing for our science assignment. It was due in Mr. Clarke's class later that afternoon, and the pressure weighed on me like an invisible hand.

Across from me, Dan lounged in his chair with that effortless slouch of his, his dark hair falling messily over his forehead. He swirled a beaker with a lazy flick of his wrist, his face scrunched up in clear annoyance. 

"Man, Clarke's such an asshole!" Dan muttered, his voice low and edged with frustration. "He piles on these assignments just because we don't kiss his ass in class like the other kids do. Thinks he's some big shot, strutting around with that hairy broad chest straining against his shirt, barely squeezing through the doorways without turning sideways."

He snorted, leaning back and mimicking Mr. Clarke's stiff, wide posture, puffing out his own chest in exaggeration. "You ever hear that poor office chair creak every time he plants his big ass down? It's gonna snap one day, I swear. I can picture it now, him tumbling to the floor in front of the whole class and everyone laughing at his dumb face."

I nodded absently, my gaze locked on the bubbling mixture in my own beaker, watching the colors swirl and shift. But my mind wandered far from the experiment. Dan's rants about our science professor, Bruce Clarke, had become a familiar soundtrack to our lab sessions. It was always the same litany of complaints about his strict rules, his uptight personality, his biting criticism that could cut like a knife. Around town, Mr. Clarke was famously known as "The Cruel Giant," a man who barely let his students scrape by with passing grades and demanded nothing short of perfection from everyone. Stories circulated about how he would chew out cashiers for hours if they shortchanged him by a penny, or chase after elderly folks on the street to lecture them about public decency just for coughing too loudly in his presence.

To Dan, Mr. Clarke was nothing more than an uptight mean old man, a tall, burly middle-aged man whose khaki pants and tight dress shirts always seemed on the verge of bursting over his massive frame. But I stayed quiet, my agreement only half-hearted at best, because admitting the truth to Dan or even to myself felt utterly mortifying. Over the past few months, I had developed a secret crush on Mr. Clarke, a shameful attraction that I buried deep inside, praying it would fade away by the time graduation rolled around and I could escape this small town.

His huge body strangely captivated me in ways I could barely understand myself. And Mr. Clarke wasn't the slob Dan painted him to be. Sure, he carried a slight soft layer around his midsection, a gentle curve that pressed outward against his shirts, and I often imagined he could easily crush a watermelon just by sitting on it with that large, plump ass of his. But there was a commanding solidity to him that made my pulse quicken. He stood at 6'8", one of the tallest and largest men in our small town, with broad, wide shoulders that seemed to fill any room he entered, and thick, powerful arms that bent the space around them. During class, I would steal glances, my eyes tracing the vast expanse of his broad back as he wrote equations on the board, or lingering on the way his khaki pants clung to his rounded, muscular ass when he bent down to collect our tests.

His brown beard, often flecked with crumbs from a hurried lunch or faint stains from his morning coffee, framed a ruggedly handsome face that could make me blush even when he was yelling at the class for being late. I remembered the times his coffee-scented breath had washed over me during those scoldings, warm and authoritative, leaving me flustered. In my private fantasies, I imagined pressing my face into the hairy massive chest that peeked through his open collar, feeling the warmth of his bulk envelop me completely. I envied his genetics, how he was so effortlessly tall, hairy, and thick without ever needing to lift a weight or step foot in a gym. It was as if his body was a natural force, untamed and powerful.

I told myself it was just a phase, a silly teenage crush that would dissolve once college was behind me. I was just a scrawny senior, barely noticeable among the sea of students in Mr. Clarke's classes, and the very idea of confessing my feelings to anyone, especially Dan, made my stomach twist into knots. So I locked those thoughts away, letting them simmer quietly as I stirred my chemicals, my mind drifting into a hazy fantasy of running my hands over Mr. Clarke's broad, hairy chest, feeling the coarse hairs tickle my palms, the heat of his skin seeping into mine.

"Yo, Noah, you even listening to me?" Dan's voice snapped me back to reality, sharp and insistent.

I blinked, realizing I had been staring blankly at the beaker for far too long, the mixture now frothing a bit too vigorously.

"Huh? Yeah, sorry," I mumbled, shaking my head to clear the fog.

But before I could say more, my elbow caught the edge of a glass container filled with unknown chemicals, sending it toppling over into Dan's mixture. The liquids collided with a violent hiss, merging in a chaotic fizz that sent sparks flying. Dan yelped, jumping back from the table, his gloves and shirt miraculously untouched.

"Shit, Noah, watch it!" he shouted, his eyes wide as we both retreated a few meters away. 

We stood there frozen, hearts pounding, as acrid smoke billowed upward from the workstation, the table sizzling in a way that sounded almost alive.

"What the hell was that?" Dan hissed, his voice laced with panic, glancing at me accusingly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," I stammered, my heart racing as the smoke thickened, obscuring the mess we had made.

But as the haze slowly cleared, the sizzling faded, revealing something impossible on the table's surface: a perfectly round black hole, its edges shimmering faintly like heat waves on asphalt. It was wide enough for a small person to fit through, a void that seemed to devour the light around it, pulling at the air with an eerie silence.

We stared at it, speechless, the lab suddenly feeling colder despite the lingering chemical warmth.

"What is that thing?" I whispered, my voice barely audible, stepping closer but not daring to touch it.

Dan shook his head, his bravado completely evaporated. "No clue, man. But we're totally screwed if Clarke sees this. We just destroyed school property, and you know how he gets about that."

With lunch break nearly over, panic surged through us like electricity. We scrambled to clean up the spill, me sweeping up the shattered glass shards from the floor while Dan wiped down the table with frantic swipes. As he brushed near the hole, his hand accidentally nudged its rim, and the anomaly shifted, folding slightly like a piece of flexible fabric.

"Noah, get over here quick!" Dan called, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and excitement.

I hurried over, my jaw dropping as he gripped the edge of the hole and lifted it effortlessly off the table, holding it like a sheet of black paper, weightless and rippling faintly in the air.

"What the fuck?" I breathed, stepping even closer, my eyes wide. Dan, now grinning despite the shock, placed the hole back on the table and tentatively reached into it, his arm vanishing up to the elbow into the void. His face lit up with astonishment as he pulled his hand back, completely unharmed.

"Dude, this is freaky!" he exclaimed, his voice shaking with glee. 

He grabbed the hole again, striding over to a locked cabinet across the room, and slapped it against the door. Reaching through, he pulled out a beaker from inside the cabinet, holding it up triumphantly. "Holy shit, Noah! We made a freaking portal! This thing lets you reach into anything!"

We marveled at the anomaly we had accidentally created, a defiance of every law of physics we had learned in class. Dan's eyes gleamed with endless possibilities, his mind already racing ahead.

"We've got something way better than a boring assignment for Clarke now," he said, carefully rolling the hole up like a poster and stuffing it into his backpack. "And I've got an idea to test this thing out later. You in?"

I nodded, unsure but intrigued, my mind still reeling from the impossibility of it all. "Yeah, I guess. But we have to be careful, Dan. This could be dangerous..."

—

Two classes dragged by in a blur, and during the break before chemistry, Dan pulled me aside with a mischievous grin. He led me down the echoing hallways to the gym locker rooms, the distant shouts from jocks in the gymnasium grating on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

"What are we doing here, Dan?" I asked, glancing around nervously at the rows of metal lockers, the air thick with the smell of sweat and old sneakers.

He smirked, his eyes glinting with that reckless spark I knew all too well. "Just trust me. Keep watch for a second."

He scanned the lockers until he stopped at one labeled "Austin," our school's star athlete and the resident bully who had made our lives hell more than once.

I hissed a protest, my voice low. "Dan, no way. That's Austin's locker. We can't just..."

But he ignored me, pressing the black hole against the locker door with a soft thud. Reaching through the void, he rummaged around inside and pulled out a sweaty jockstrap, its fabric damp and musky from recent use.

"Dude!" I exclaimed, horrified, my cheeks burning as I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was coming.

Dan laughed, holding it up like a trophy before pressing it to his face and inhaling deeply. "Smells pretty good for a douchebag like Austin," he said, grinning wickedly. "Come on, Noah, lighten up. It's just a prank."

I rolled my eyes, my face flushing even hotter. "That's gross, man. Put it back."

He chuckled, rolling up the hole and tucking it, along with the jockstrap, into his backpack. "Imagine what else we can do with this thing. Vending machines, locked doors, even ATMs. It's not really stealing if it's just sitting there, right? We could take whatever we want without anyone knowing."

I frowned, unease twisting in my gut. "It's still stealing, Dan. And what if we get caught? This isn't a game."

Before we could argue further, Coach's voice boomed from the gymnasium entrance, demanding to know what we were doing in the locker room. "Hey! You two! What are you up to in there?"

Panic hit us like a wave, and we bolted, our sneakers squeaking against the tile floor as we fled down the hall, hearts pounding.

—

Fifteen minutes later, we were back in the chemistry lab, seated at our workstation as our classmates tricked in, chatting and laughing. Dan bounced in his seat like a kid on Christmas morning, barely containing his excitement about showing off the black hole. My stomach churned with nerves, both from the upcoming presentation and the looming presence of Mr. Clarke himself.

When he finally entered the room, his broad shoulders barely clearing the doorway, I felt my breath catch. His khaki pants hugged his thick calves, and his dress shirt clung to his hairy chest, the top button undone just enough to tease the coarse hairs beneath.

Our eyes met briefly as he scanned the room, and I saw a flicker of disappointment, perhaps even disgust, in his gaze before he turned away. 

"Settle down, everyone," he barked, his deep voice rumbling through the lab like thunder. "We've got presentations today, and I expect you all to take this seriously. No excuses, no half-baked efforts."

Class dragged on with Mr. Clarke's usual loud and demeaning criticism, his beard twitching with every sharp word he directed at struggling students.

"That's incorrect, Miss Thompson. Do you even read the textbook, or do you just guess?" he snapped at one girl, making her shrink in her seat.

Finally, it was time for presentations. Dan shot up from his chair, waving his hand eagerly. "Mr. Clarke, can we go first? We've got something amazing."

Mr. Clarke eyed him skeptically, adjusting the square reading glasses that framed his piercing eyes. "Fine, but make it quick. And it better not be another one of your jokes, Daniel."

We stood at the front, explaining how we had mixed the chemicals accidentally, creating a black hole that defied all known physics. Dan's voice was infectious, building up the drama. "It's like a portal, sir. You can reach through anything with it."

But before we could pull out the anomaly to demonstrate, Mr. Clarke cut us off sharply. "That's enough of this nonsense," he snapped, his face reddening with anger. "You're slandering the very foundations of science in my classroom, and I won't tolerate it. Sit down, both of you."

Dan protested, his voice rising. "But sir, we can prove it! Just let us show you!"

"I said sit down!" Mr. Clarke shouted, his voice shaking the room, making the beakers rattle on the shelves.

Humiliated, we slunk back to our seats amid the laughter of the class. The jocks in the back called out, "Losers!" and the girls whispered "freaks" under their breath. I felt Mr. Clarke's glare burning into us, his stoic face flushed with irritation.

Dan muttered spitefully under his breath as we sat. "They don't deserve to see it anyway. I'll show them later, when it matters."

The rest of class passed in a miserable haze, with other students presenting their projects while I replayed Mr. Clarke's words over and over in my mind, my crush twisting into a knot of embarrassment. When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the day, Dan and I joined the rush to leave, eager to escape. But a heavy hand suddenly gripped my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks.

"You two, stay behind," Mr. Clarke's gruff voice ordered, his fingers like steel.

My heart sank as we sat at the front desks, facing his massive wooden desk. I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering to the chest hair peeking from his shirt, my crush flaring up despite the tension in the air.

Mr. Clarke's eyes narrowed as he caught my gaze lingering. "Noah," he began, his tone icy and measured, "I've noticed you staring at me these past months. It's inappropriate, and I don't appreciate it one bit. You need to focus on your studies, not whatever perverse fantasies you're indulging in during my class."

My face burned with shame, heat flooding my cheeks. I hadn't realized he had noticed, and the accusation left me speechless, my mouth dry. "I... I'm sorry, sir," I managed to whisper, staring at the floor.

Dan spoke up, his voice sharp and defensive. "That's not cool, Mr. Clarke. You can't just accuse him like that."

But the professor ignored him, turning his attention to Dan. "And you, with your ridiculous stunt today. If you keep this up, you'll fail my class and amount to nothing in life. Is that what you want?"

Dan's jaw tightened, anger flashing in his eyes. "We weren't lying, sir. We really created something incredible."

Mr. Clarke's scowl deepened. "Enough. I don't have time for your games."

Fed up, Dan reached into his backpack and pulled out the rolled-up black hole. "See for yourself then."

Mr. Clarke dismissed it with a wave. "That's just a piece of black paper. Put it away."

Dan, his patience snapping, strode to the locked cabinet in the corner. "Watch this," he said, slapping the hole onto the door. He reached through and pulled out beakers, tools, and supplies, dumping them onto Mr. Clarke's desk with a clatter.

The professor's expression shifted from annoyance to shock, his eyes widening. "What are you doing? How did you...?"

Dan grinned, placing the hole flat on the desk. "Try it yourself, sir. Reach in and grab something from under your desk."

Hesitantly, Mr. Clarke reached into the void, his thick fingers disappearing. He pulled out pens, paperclips, and notebooks from beneath his desk, his shock turning to fascination as his fingers trembled.

"This... this is impossible," he murmured, his voice softening for the first time.

But Dan snatched the hole away, rolling it up quickly. "Told you we weren't lying," he said, smirking as he stood to leave. "Come on, Noah."

As Dan headed for the door, I fumbled with my bag, noticing a dark glint in Mr. Clarke's eyes, something like greed or ambition flickering there. The air in the room grew thick with tension, and suddenly, he lunged forward with surprising speed for a man of his size. His meaty hand closed around Dan's wrist, fingers like iron clamps, pinning Dan's arm in place.

Dan yelped, his voice sharp with panic. "What the hell, man? Let go!"

"You boys have no idea what you're holding," Mr. Clarke growled, his voice low and laced with a hunger that made my skin crawl. His massive frame loomed over Dan, his broad shoulders casting a shadow that swallowed my friend whole. Sweat beaded on Mr. Clarke's forehead, glistening under the lights, his dress shirt growing damp under the armpits, clinging to the curve of his massive chest and broad back. "Leave such things to responsible adults like me."

Dan struggled, his face turning red, both hands clutching the rolled-up black hole, his knuckles white. "Get off me! This isn't yours!"

Mr. Clarke's other hand reached for it, his thick fingers brushing the anomaly, his breath coming in heavy pants from the exertion. The room felt stifling, the air thick with the scent of his sweat, a musky blend of coffee and raw masculinity that hit me like a wave, stirring my shameful crush even as fear gripped my chest.

Dan's eyes met mine, wide with desperation. "Noah, help! Do something!"

I dropped my bag and rushed over, my heart pounding wildly. "Let him go, sir!" I shouted, grabbing at the black hole, my fingers brushing against Dan's and Mr. Clarke's in the chaos. The three of us were locked in a frantic tug-of-war, pulling and yanking.

Mr. Clarke's strength was staggering, his arm like a steel cable, pulling with a force that made my muscles burn. "Let go, you fools!" he roared, his voice booming through the room, his face flushed red, small beads of sweat dripping down his temples.

Dan and I pulled together, our combined effort barely budging the anomaly from his grasp. "We can't let him have it!" Dan gasped, his face contorted with effort.

My hands slipped on the smooth, otherworldly surface, my palms slick with nervous sweat. "He's too strong," I panted, feeling insignificant next to his towering bulk, my slim arms trembling against his power. His dress shirt strained further, the seams creaking, his neck muscles shifting with each heave, his khaki pants tight around his thick thighs.

We tugged one last time, a desperate heave that sent us all stumbling. The black hole slipped from our fingers, but Mr. Clarke's sweaty palm fumbled it, the slick roll escaping his grip. It unfolded mid-air, a dark, rippling sheet, and sailed toward his chest. Time seemed to slow as it adhered with a soft, wet slap, the void pulsing against his shirt, centered over his broad chest.

His eyes widened in horror, a gasp escaping his lips.

"What... no!" he stammered, his hands clawing at the hole, trying to rip it free. Then his massive body suddenly shuddered, his pupils rolling back, and he collapsed, his heavy frame crashing to the hardwood floor with a thunderous thud that shook the entire room.

Dan and I stood panting, staring at the black hole pulsing on Mr. Clarke's chest, his unconscious body still, his bearded face slack.

"Oh god, we killed him," I whispered, my voice trembling, my legs feeling like jelly.

Dan knelt beside him, pressing fingers to his neck. "No, he's alive… just out cold," he said, his voice unsteady. He poked at the hole, his fingers disappearing inside. "Woah... he's hollow now. Like he's completely empty inside."

He reached deeper, his expression shifting to confusion. "Weird, I feel crevices inside, it’s like paths leading to his arms or neck. He's like a big hollow tree stump..."

I paced the room, panic clawing at my chest, my mind racing with the implications. "We never thought about using it on a person... What have we done?"

A few minutes passed of me restlessly pacing around while Dan stared curiously at the hole on Clarke's chest, his mind seemingly thinking hard about how to get us out of this mess. Then suddenly Dan's eyes lit up with a reckless idea. "What if one of us climbs inside? Maybe we can move him, sort of like a big meatsuit. We could access his office, fix our grades and make him give us A's, then get out before he wakes up."

"That's insane, Dan," I said, but the idea took hold, fueled by fear of failing yet another course and a bizarre curiosity about climbing inside Mr. Clarke's big body, the man I had secretly admired for so long. "You really think that would work?"

He nodded eagerly. "Think about it, Noah. You're smaller than me, scrawny frame and all. You'd fit easily through the hole. Come on, it's our only shot right now."

After a heated debate, with me protesting, "This could go so wrong," and Dan countering, "But what if it goes right? We could turn this around," I swallowed hard, gazing at Mr. Clarke's unconscious giant form. His bearded face looked almost serene, his massive hairy chest rising and falling despite the gaping hole. My crush twisted into something darker, a fascination with the impossible intimacy of it all.

Dan locked the classroom door with a click. "Okay, let's do this. I'll keep watch."

I stood over Mr. Clarke, my pulse racing like a drum. His body was a mountain compared to mine, his shoulders twice as wide as my own, his chest a broad expanse of power, his gut a soft curve that spoke of both strength and years of indulgence. I kicked off my shoes, a strange gesture of respect, and hesitated, my breath shallow. The black hole pulsed invitingly, its edges shimmering, beckoning me forward.

"Be careful," Dan whispered, his voice tense.

I nodded, stepping forward, one foot hovering over the void. "Here goes nothing."

I lowered myself in slowly, the sensation immediate and overwhelming, a warm, squishy embrace that enveloped my foot like sinking into a heated waterbed, but alive, pulsating gently. The inside of Mr. Clarke's body was soft and yielding, yet unnervingly organic, the walls slick and warm against my skin, almost caressing me as I descended.

My foot sank into a crevice, what I assumed was the path to his thick leg, and I felt a gentle resistance, as if the space was molding itself to me, adapting to my shape. I was scrawny, barely 5'6" and 130 pounds, but Mr. Clarke was a giant, well over 6'8" and easily 250 pounds, his bulk dwarfing me entirely. Yet the hole seemed to adjust seamlessly, my leg sliding into his thigh, stopping abruptly as if fitted perfectly, despite the vast size difference.

"How does it feel?" Dan asked, his voice hushed, watching intently.

"It's... warm," I replied, my voice shaky. "Like it's hugging me, tightly yet firmly." 

I lowered myself further, my other leg finding its place, the sensation of his massive thighs enveloping my own, heavy and warm, like pulling on a suit far too large yet impossibly snug. My hips settled into his, my slim frame sinking into the broad expanse of his pelvis, the weight of his ass pressing down beneath me, a dense, plump mass that felt alien and grounding all at once.

I pushed my arms through next, feeling the crevices widen for his thick biceps and forearms, my hands slipping into his, the fingers blunt and calloused, so unlike my own slender ones.

"My arms... they're in his now," I murmured, flexing experimentally, yet straining under the heavy weight of them.

The inside of his chest stretched tight as I pushed myself further down, the flesh straining with a soft creak, and I felt the dampness of his simmering sweat enveloping me, a musky scent that filled my senses, both repellent and intoxicating in its rawness.

"Keep going," Dan encouraged, his eyes wide. "You're almost there."

I pulled myself deeper, my chest sinking into his, the soft flesh brushing against my skin inside, a sensation so intimate it made my face burn with heat. The black hole's warmth enveloped my torso completely, and I bent my neck forward, sliding my head down into the darkness and then through a tight, slick passage that must have been his throat.

"It's so tight here," I gasped, darkness closing in, warm and suffocating, as I aligned my body with his.

For a moment, I panicked, blind and breathless, but then vision flickered to life, and I saw through Mr. Clarke's eye sockets, the world sharper, larger, as if my eyes now perceived everything as he did. Air rushed through his nostrils and into my lungs, filling me with a strange vitality. I pushed myself up slowly, his bulk around me loose and heavy, a staggering weight that made my movements slow and uncoordinated.

"God, he's so fucking heavy," I said, Mr. Clarke's deep timbre somehow resonated through me, a bizarre mixture of his voice and mine that boomed in the room.

I gripped the desk for support, my thick fingers leaving sweaty prints on the wood, and stood, feeling the floor creak beneath his mass. My legs, inside his now, felt like heavy pillars, each step a lumbering effort, his thighs rubbing together with a soft friction, khaki pants wrapped snugly around them. His hairy chest rose and fell with each breath I took inside, and his broad shoulders strained the dress shirt, the seams taut against the power beneath.

Dan gaped at me, his mouth open in awe. "Holy shit, Noah. You're wearing him! You look just like Clarke, but... it's you in there controlling him!"

"Yeah," I replied, my voice still that strange mixture of ours combined. "It's me. But god it feels strange being in here, like everything too big and heavy..."

Dan stepped closer, peering at my new bearded face. "How are you breathing? Seeing? It looks completely normal from out here."

"It feels like looking through a one-way mask," I explained, touching my cheek experimentally, and somehow feeling the scratchy beard poking me from the inside. "Like my eyes are hidden behind his, invisible from outside. And I'm breathing through his nostrils, the air flowing right to me. Sounds vibrate from his eardrums and fill this space I'm in. And my mouth, my tongue... they've slipped into his like a thick, larger sleeve. It's so freaky how this actually worked..."

"Damn," Dan said, reaching out to poke my arm, squeezing the thick flesh. "Can you feel that?"

"Barely," I admitted, the sensation dulled by the layer of Mr. Clarke's heavy flesh encasing me. "It's really like I'm wearing a big heavy skinsuit..."

But then he tried to reach into the hole on Mr. Clarke’s chest, his fingers brushed my real chest inside, tickling me lightly. "Hey, stop that!" I laughed, swatting him away, my voice booming louder than intended.

He grinned, then slapped my ass playfully, the thick flesh bouncing slightly, sending a jolt through me, a mix of embarrassment and a strange thrill at feeling this body respond under my control. "Damn... guess you're the one with the thick massive ass now, huh? How's it feel to have all that junk in the trunk?"

"Shut up, Dan," I said, but I couldn't help a small chuckle, shifting my weight and feeling the dense anchor pull me down. "It's weird. Heavy, but... powerful."

Then, noticing the clock on the wall, Dan's expression turned serious. "We need to hurry. The hall might fill up soon. I’ll unlock the door and check if it's clear. Remember, our plan is to get to the professor's office, change our grades on his computer, and then we’ll come back and I’ll help you climb back out."

I nodded before shuffling toward the door, each step slow and unfamiliar, but stopped when I reached the nearby cabinet.

Catching Mr. Clarke's reflection in the glass, I froze. His handsome, bearded face stared back, but the sternness was gone, replaced by my own shock and fascination in his eyes. His body was a colossus, shoulders a broad wall, chest heaving with each breath, and his ass a soft curve that shifted sensually with every movement. But then I saw the gaping black hole on the chest, a glaring void that would draw immediate questions from other students and faculty members.

"Wait," I said, my deep voice echoing. "I can't walk out like this. The hole's too obvious. The other professors would freak out seeing Mr. Clarke like this. Maybe I can just take it off for a while…"

Dan seemed preoccupied with checking the hallway outside. "Yeah yeah, whatever. Just hurry up. The coast is clear now."

Without thinking of the implications or consequences, my hands, now inside Mr. Clarke's thick, rugged hands, gripped the rim of the black hole. The surface was smooth, almost liquid under my fingers, and I pulled gently, peeling it away from the damp dress shirt. The moment it detached, a searing heat erupted around me, a burning wave that consumed every nerve, every fiber.

"Noah? What did you do?!" Dan asked, his voice rising in alarm as he turned his attention back to me.

I realized too late my mistake. The warm squishy walls inside of Mr. Clarke's body tightened suddenly, compressing around me like a vice, as if his flesh was collapsing inward, crushing my scrawny frame.

"No... it- it hurts!!" I gasped, my skin burning, my bones aching under the pressure. I felt my body, my real body inside, being crushed, warped, and dissolved into the vastness of Mr. Clarke's thick flesh, and then as if I was being wrung and dispersed throughout every pore and cell that was Mr. Clarke. The room spun wildly, Dan's scream echoing in my ears as my vision darkened. "Dan... help..." 

My last thought was a desperate wish for Mr. Clarke to forgive me for what we had done to him…

—

–

-

"Hey! Wake up! Noah, wake up!" Dan's voice pierced through the fog, his hands shaking my shoulders with desperate force.

I groaned, my body feeling like it had been crushed under a boulder, heavy and unresponsive. My eyes fluttered open, vision swimming as the chemistry lab's fluorescent lights stabbed into my skull like knives. I pushed myself up slowly, sitting on the cold hardwood floor, every muscle screaming in protest. My limbs felt sluggish, foreign, like they belonged to someone else entirely.

Dan knelt before me, his face pale, eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. "Is it you, Noah? Or is it Clarke? Say something, please."

I frowned, my head throbbing with a dull ache pulsing behind my eyes. "What do you mean?" I croaked, but the sound stopped me cold.

The voice was no longer a strange mixture; my original reedy tone of a college senior was completely gone without a trace. It was now deep, gruff, resonant, the voice I had heard barking orders in class, laced with coffee and unyielding authority. Mr. Clarke's fully complete voice.

My hand shot to my throat, fingers brushing a thick, muscular neck, the skin rough with coarse stubble that trailed downward. I froze, my breath catching as I felt the unfamiliar texture, the sheer bulk of it. "Dan... why does my voice sound like this?"

"Noah, is it really you?" Dan urged, his voice cracking with tension. "Please tell me it's you."

"It's me, dude. Noah," I said, but hearing that booming timbre again made my stomach drop.

I opened my mouth to speak more, but my gaze dropped to my hands, and the realization finally hit me. They felt massive now, rugged with blunt fingers and knuckles dusted with dark hair. I turned them over, palms up, staring at the calloused skin, the deep lines etched from years of grading papers and handling lab equipment.

"What the fuck?" I whispered, Mr. Clarke's voice booming out, alien and wrong coming from my thoughts. Somehow it no longer felt like I was wearing an oversized suit of flesh, but instead every breath, every sensation, every movement felt like it was my own flesh and blood.

I touched my face, fingers trembling as they encountered a scratchy beard, a strong jaw, thinning hair atop a broad skull. My other hand pressed against my chest, feeling the solid mass, the faint give of flesh, a heartbeat that thrummed powerfully but wasn't mine. I shifted, the floor creaking beneath my weight, my hips and thighs spreading wider than I had ever known, the sensation of bulk overwhelming and inescapable.

"Dan, what happened? Where's the hole, and why am I still inside Mr. Clarke?" I asked, my voice shaking despite its depth, each word a reminder of the flesh I now controlled completely.

Dan swallowed hard, his eyes darting to the black hole lying crumpled on the floor, its edges still faintly shimmering. "When you pulled the hole off, you screamed and collapsed. I rushed over and reattached it to your chest, hoping I could pull you out like before. But when I reached inside... there was nothing. Just emptiness, like it was before you climbed in. Your real body, Noah... I think it's gone. Like completely gone."

I stared at him, my mind refusing to process the words. "Gone? What do you mean, gone?" I demanded, my voice rising, filling the room with Mr. Clarke's commanding timbre.

Dan flinched slightly, raising his hands to calm me. "I think when you took the hole off, something triggered. Your real body was still inside Clarke's, and without the hole to keep you two separate… I think you fused with him. You became his flesh, his organs, his nerves, and maybe even his brain now. For all intents and purposes, Noah... I think you're Bruce Clarke now. Permanently."

The words shattered my reality like fragile glass.

"No..." I whispered, shaking my head slowly, the motion feeling heavy and unfamiliar as the coarse beard scratched against the collar of my damp dress shirt.

I grabbed at my thick arms, tugging desperately at the muscled flesh beneath the fabric as if I could somehow peel it away and reveal my old scrawny self hiding underneath. But the skin was undeniably real, warm and alive, every pinch sending sharp jolts through nerves that now belonged entirely to this body. I pressed both hands firmly against my broad chest, feeling the dense thickness of it, the coarse hairs curling under my palms, the heavy weight shifting with each ragged breath I took.

"I’m stuck…?" I murmured, the deep gruff voice choking in my throat. "I’m… Professor Clarke now?"

I was no longer a senior, just months away from graduation, with a future full of freedom stretching out before me like an open road. Instead, I had become a man in his late forties, a college science professor infamous for his unrelenting sternness and biting criticism. And, as Dan had always joked in the lab, the man with the thickest ass in town, a massive rounded backside that strained every pair of khaki pants he owned. The thought of my secret crush on Mr. Clarke, now twisted into my permanent reality, made my stomach churn with a sickening mix of horror and disbelief. I had admired this body from afar for months, stealing glances and fantasizing about its power and presence. But living in it, trapped forever inside its overwhelming bulk, was nothing I could ever have prepared myself for. It felt like a cruel joke, the object of my desire turned into an inescapable prison of flesh and weight.

"Come on, Noah. Sit down for a second. You look like you're about to pass out again." Dan stepped closer, his expression a blend of pity and lingering shock.

He guided me toward Mr. Clarke's office chair behind the desk, the one we had mocked so many times in our whispers. I lowered myself carefully, the wooden frame groaning immediately under the sudden load of my new mass. The chair creaked loudly, a long, protesting sound that seemed to mock me as I settled into it, my thick thighs spreading wide, my heavy gut pressing forward against the edge of the desk.

I ran my rugged hands over my face, fingers tracing the scratchy texture of the full beard, the deep-set eyes that now held my panicked gaze, the thinning hair on top that felt slick with fresh sweat. The sensations were all so alien, so rugged and scratchy, nothing like the old skin I had known just hours ago. My broad shoulders slumped as the reality sank deeper, the dress shirt pulling tight across my back.

"Dan, please," I pleaded, my voice cracking despite its depth, coming out as a quiet, desperate whimper from Mr. Clarke's lips. It felt so strange, so wrong, to hear that authoritative rumble reduced to begging. "You have to help me... I can’t be stuck like this forever... I can't live as him..."

Dan opened his mouth to respond, his eyes soft with sympathy. "We'll figure it out, I swear. We'll—"

Right as the words left his mouth, I shifted uncomfortably in the chair, trying to find a position that didn't feel so foreign and constricting. My massive frame didn't move lightly; the simple adjustment sent my weight rocking backward, my thick ass pressing down harder into the seat. There was a sharp, ominous crack, like wood splitting under too much strain, followed immediately by a loud pop as one of the supports gave way completely.

The chair collapsed beneath me in an instant. The back legs buckled, the seat tilted violently, and I tumbled backward with absolutely no grace. My heavy body hit the hardwood floor with a thunderous thud that echoed through the empty classroom, the impact jarring every bone in this giant frame. My broad back slammed down first, followed by the dense weight of my ass and thighs, sending a shockwave through me. Papers scattered from the desk, a beaker wobbled precariously on a nearby shelf, and the air rushed out of my lungs in a deep, involuntary grunt from Mr. Clarke's chest.

For a moment, I just lay there sprawled on the floor, stunned and breathless, staring up at the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. My khaki pants had ridden up slightly from the fall, exposing thick, hairy calves. My dress shirt had untucked in places, revealing a strip of soft gut and the dark trail of hair leading downward. My bearded face burned hot with flush, sweat beading anew on my forehead as humiliation flooded through me like fire.

We had always joked about this exact thing in the lab. Dan and I had whispered about how Mr. Clarke's poor office chair creaked every time he sat down, how one day surely his big heavy ass would finally snap it in half and send him crashing to the floor in front of everyone. We had laughed about imagining the scene, the uptight professor reduced to an embarrassing heap in front of the class. But I never, in my worst nightmares, imagined I would be the one inside his body when it actually happened. I never thought I would feel the sheer mortifying weight of it all from the inside. The way his massive frame made every movement so consequential, the way this thick, powerful ass that I had secretly admired was now the very thing that had caused my downfall.

"Shit, Mr. Clarke... I mean, Noah... are you okay?" Dan asked, rushing around the desk, his voice caught between concern and barely suppressed laughter as he looked down at me.

I groaned, trying to push myself up on my elbows, but the impact stung and made it awkward and slow. My thick arms strained, my gut shifted heavily, and I felt every pound of this body resisting the effort. Looking up at Dan from the floor with my flushed bearded face tilted upward in helpless vulnerability, only deepened the humiliation. The man who commanded fear and respect from the entire school was now sprawled helplessly like a toppled statue, and I was the one living it.

"Don't... don't laugh," I muttered, my deep voice rumbling with embarrassment as I finally rolled to my side and heaved myself upright, the floor creaking again under my rising weight. But even as I said it, I could feel the heat in my cheeks, the way this body's natural authority clashed with the ridiculous position I had landed in. It was so wrong, so utterly humiliating, and yet buried somewhere beneath the shame was that perverse flicker of sensation, the raw physicality of it all, the undeniable presence of this massive, hairy form that was now mine.

Dan offered a hand to help steady me as I stood, brushing off my rumpled shirt. "Sorry, man. But... we really did always say that chair wouldn't last much longer."

"Yeah," I replied quietly, adjusting my pants and feeling the dense curve of my ass settle back into place. "Just never thought I'd be the one to break it."

The words hung heavy, a stark reminder that every joke we had made about Mr. Clarke's body was now my reality, every flaw and excess now mine to carry, to feel, to live with from today on.

—

The next hour was a nightmare, a desperate scramble to reverse the impossible. We stayed late in the school lab, the black hole's shimmering void mocking me from the floor as it lay there like a discarded shadow, its edges rippling faintly under the fluorescent lights. Dan paced back and forth, his sneakers squeaking on the linoleum, while I stood there in Mr. Clarke's towering body, feeling every inch of its heavy presence pulling me down.

"Okay, Noah, let's think this through," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe we can have you climb into another body. Like one of the jocks or another student. At least you wouldn't be stuck as this old lumbering giant forever."

I nodded eagerly, a spark of hope flickering in my chest, making my thick beard twitch as I spoke. "Yes, please. Let's try that. Anything but this. I can't stay like him, Dan. His body feels so... overwhelming. So heavy and thick everywhere." My deep voice rumbled with desperation, and I glanced down at my broad frame, the dress shirt still clinging damply to my hairy chest from the earlier sweat.

Dan picked up the black hole carefully, unrolling it like a fragile map. "Alright, hold still. I'll place it on the floor, and you try to squeeze through. Imagine slipping into one of the jock's bodies or another student. We could grab one of them after practice or something."

He laid it flat, the void pulsing invitingly, and I lowered myself awkwardly, my massive knees creaking as they hit the ground. I positioned my large callused hand at the rim first, feeling the warm, squishy pull of the anomaly, but as I tried to push my arm in deeper, the resistance built immediately. 

"It's tight already," I grunted, my rugged face flushing with effort. My broad shoulders caught painfully against the edge, the void stretching slightly but refusing to yield to my width. I twisted, sweat beading on my forehead and dripping into my beard, my thick chest heaving as I pushed harder.

"Keep going, Noah. You can do it," Dan encouraged, kneeling beside me, his voice tense. "Suck in your chest or something."

I tried, inhaling deeply, feeling the firm curve of my chest compress slightly, but it was no use. My thick chest, matted with coarse hair under the shirt, refused to squeeze through the narrow rim, the fabric straining as I wedged myself further. Pain shot through my shoulders, and I gasped, pulling back with a frustrated roar. "Damn it, it's not working. Clarke’s shoulders are too wide. This body is built like a wall."

We tried again, Dan suggesting I go feet first this time. "Maybe start with your legs. Your thighs are huge, but the hole might stretch."

I lay on my back, the floor cool against my broad shoulders, and slid one thick, hairy leg toward the void. The sensation was strange, the anomaly enveloping my calf with that familiar warm embrace, but as my massive backside approached, it jammed, the dense muscle and fat bunching up against the rim.

"Push harder," Dan said, grabbing my other leg to help guide me. "Come on, Noah, you're almost there."

I groaned, my deep voice echoing in the empty lab, sweat now soaking through the back of my shirt as I strained. "It hurts, Dan. These thighs and this ass are too damn big! It's like trying to force a tree trunk through a keyhole." After minutes of grunting and twisting, I yanked my leg free, panting heavily, my beard damp and itchy from the exertion.

We made a third attempt, this time with me on my side, but each try left me more exhausted, my beard dripping beads of sweat onto the floor as I gasped for air.

"Enough," I finally said, slumping against the desk, my thick frame trembling. "It's not working. I'm too fucking big now. Clarke's body is never going to fit that small hole..."

Dan shook his head in defeat, his face pale. "Damn it. Okay, plan B. What about recreating the chemical reaction? Maybe make another bigger hole or find a way to reverse the fusion somehow."

I nodded wearily, my rugged hands trembling as I stood up, feeling the weight of my ass shift with the movement. "Let's try. Anything to get me out of this."

For the next hour and a half we gathered beakers and compounds from the shelves, Dan reading off measurements while I poured with my blunt fingers, the liquids hissing as they mixed.

"Add more sulfur this time," Dan instructed, peering into the beaker. "That might be what triggered it before."

I complied, but the mixture just bubbled harmlessly, no void forming, no anomaly appearing. We tried variation after variation, frantically adjusting ratios, but without the exact accidental formula, it was futile. 

"This isn't the right combination," I said after the tenth failed batch, my hands shaking as I set down the beaker, the reality sinking in deeper like a stone in my thick chest. Each failure cemented my fate deeper, the reality sinking in that I was stuck as Bruce Clarke for the unforeseeable future.

"Shit, Noah," Dan whispered, leaning against the table. "I don't know what else to do right now…"

"I can't go home like this," I said finally, my voice exhausted and defeated after hours of trying. "My parents would freak out if I showed up looking like our science professor. What do I do now, Dan?"

Dan thought for a moment, rubbing his chin. "We leave it for today and try again tomorrow when we're fresh. I heard Clarke lives alone, in an apartment a town over. Maybe… you could go there, and just pretend to be him until we fix this. It's not ideal, but it's something, I guess…"

The words felt like a death sentence, the idea of stepping fully into Mr. Clarke's life making my hairy chest tighten. "Pretend to be him? Dan, I am him now. But... fine," I agreed reluctantly, my deep voice heavy with resignation. "I don't have a choice. Just promise you'll help me tomorrow. We meet back here first thing?"

"I promise," Dan said, clapping me on the shoulder, though his hand barely made an impact on my thick frame. "We'll figure this out, Noah. You're still my buddy."

We shared an awkward hug, my massive arms enveloping him easily, the powerful scent of Mr. Clarke's sweat and cologne filling the air between us. "Thanks, Dan. See you tomorrow," I murmured, pulling away.

"Take care... Mr. Clarke," he joked weakly, trying to lighten the mood, but it only made my bearded face flush deeper as I nodded and headed out.

—

After saying goodbye to Dan, I decided to take the bus instead of daring to drive Mr. Clarke's car, unsure if I could even handle the pedals with these thick legs or fit inside comfortably with this towering body. The evening air was muggy as I waited at the stop, my dress shirt already sticking to my broad back. When the bus arrived, I ducked my head to board, my broad shoulders brushing the doorframe, and lumbered to the back, the vehicle dipping slightly under my weight. Sitting on the bus without any air-conditioning, I felt stuffed and hot, the seat creaking loudly as I lowered my massive frame into it, my thick ass spreading wide and filling the space meant for two. Mr. Clarke's body started sweating profusely almost immediately, and I felt the back of the dress shirt and my armpits soaked through with his musky sweat, the fabric clinging uncomfortably to my hairy skin, outlining every curve of my chest and back.

A group of college jocks from our school boarded a few stops later, recognizing me instantly. They stared, pointing, and laughing quietly among themselves. "Look at Clarke taking up the whole backseat," one whispered, snickering. "Guy's like a tank. Bet he could crush the seat if he bounces."

At first, I thought it would feel absolutely humiliating, my cheeks flushing hot under the scruffy beard, the heat making my sweat drip faster. I shifted awkwardly, feeling the dense weight of my thighs rub together, the khaki pants damp and tight.

Yet, for some strange reason, a flicker of arousal stirred within me, warm and unexpected, building in my core as their eyes lingered on my bulk. Instead of shying away, I stared back at the jocks with a stern glare, channeling Mr. Clarke's authority.

"Something funny, boys?" I boomed, my voice deep and commanding, rumbling through the bus like thunder.

The jocks went quiet immediately, their laughter dying as they looked away in fear, mumbling apologies under their breath. "Sorry, Mr. Clarke…" one said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

There were perks to being big, scary, and having authority after all, I realized, a small thrill running through me as I shifted in the seat again, feeling the power in my bulk ripple through my muscles. The arousal lingered, a warm pulse in my thick crotch, making the ride feel strangely empowering despite the discomfort.

—

At the apartment, I fumbled with his keys at the door, my thick fingers clumsy and uncoordinated at first, the metal slipping twice before I finally turned the lock and entered. The space was clean and masculine, smelling of cedar and faint coffee, but it struck me how minimalistic it all was. The furniture was sparse: a plain wooden table in the kitchen with two mismatched chairs, a worn leather couch in the living room facing a small TV on a simple stand, and bare walls except for a few shelves holding books on chemistry and physics. No decorations, no clutter, just functional and stark, like the home of a man who lived for his work and little else.

I wandered the rooms slowly, my heavy footsteps thudding on the hardwood floors, exploring this new life that was now mine. In the living room, photo frames on a side table caught my eye. I picked one up with my rugged hands, staring at the unfamiliar faces: a group of people at a family gathering, smiling warmly, with Mr. Clarke in the center, his arm around an older woman who must have been his mother. 

"Who are you all?" I whispered, my deep voice soft in the quiet space.

Another photo showed him with friends at a bar, laughing, beers in hand, a side of him I had never imagined. And on the wall in the hallway, diplomas hung framed: his bachelor's in chemistry, master's in education, awards for teaching excellence.

"All these achievements... and they're all mine now?" I murmured, tracing the glass with a thick finger, feeling a strange mix of awe and intrusion.

The closet in the bedroom was equally plain and boring, filled with rows of identical khaki pants, tight dress shirts in neutral colors, and a few pairs of sensible shoes. No flair, no variety, just practical clothes that strained over his massive frame.

"This is what I have to wear every day?" I said aloud, pulling out a shirt and holding it up, imagining buttoning it over my hairy chest.

Finally, exhausted, I collapsed onto the bed, the frame creaking loudly under my weight like a protest, the mattress sinking deeply beneath my bulk. I peeled off the sticky shirt slowly, button by button, exposing the broad, hairy chest and thick gut inch by inch. The air felt cool against the damp skin, but the heat from my body lingered. My hands roamed tentatively, tracing the unfamiliar terrain, a mix of revulsion and fascination washing over me as my fingers sank into the soft give of my belly, then up to the dense mat of coarse hair covering my pecs. This was my prison now, a body I had day-dreamed about from afar, now mine possibly forever.

That's when I realized this was the first time I had ever seen Mr. Clarke shirtless, even if it was my own view now. A mix of horror and fascination gripped me as I stared down at the insanely hairy chest and thick legs, the coarse hairs curling thickly over the skin, dark and wild.

"This is me now…" I whispered to myself, running my hands through the furry chest, feeling the texture rough and warm under my palms. I gave my own pecs a firm squeeze, the flesh yielding softly under my grip, sending a shiver through my new body, the hairs tickling my fingers sensually.

I had to come to terms with the fact that I was Bruce Clarke now, forced to take on his identity and career as a college science professor, infamous for being cruel and barely fitting through door frames. 

"Bruce... I said aloud, testing the name on my tongue, my deep voice making it sound natural. The thought that I would have to live with this giant hairy body for the rest of my life still horrified me, but at the same time, a strange thrill emerged, building slowly like a fire kindling in my core. I had secretly always admired Mr. Clarke's body, the way it moved with such commanding presence, the sheer mass of it filling every space. 

"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all…" I murmured, my hands pressing harder into the hairy expanse, feeling the sweat-slicked skin respond.

My hands drifted lower, unbuckling the khaki pants with deliberate slowness, the belt loosening with a soft click, sliding them down over my impossibly thick thighs, the fabric brushing against the hairy legs. The air felt cool against the newly exposed skin, but the warmth from within built steadily, a pulsing heat in my heavy crotch. I explored further, my fingers brushing the unfamiliar weight there, Mr. Clarke’s cock thick and responsive, stirring under my touch, growing heavier and warmer in my palm.

"Oh god…" I murmured, my deep voice husky now, laced with building desire as I wrapped my hand around it fully, feeling the alien yet intoxicating sensations build with each slow stroke. It was slow, sensual, each movement drawing out the twisted acceptance of my fate, the veiny length thickening in my grip, the hairy base brushing my knuckles.

I lay there fondling myself, grappling with the knowledge that I had to take on the identity of Mr. Clarke from now on, even calling myself by the name of Bruce. "I'm Bruce Clarke…" I whispered repeatedly, the words sinking in as my strokes grew firmer, the pleasure coiling tighter in my thick frame. In the darkness of my new bedroom, I surrendered to the body's pull, my fingers tightening around the shaft, my breaths coming deeper and more ragged, slowly embracing the thick, hairy middle-aged professor I had become.

The slow realization deepened: I could be stuck as Bruce forever, this sweaty, heavy, hairy, and impossibly thick body my permanent home. The thought sent waves of conflicting emotion through me, a mixture of horror at the loss of my youth, yet the thrill at the power and sensuality of this form. The pleasure mounted gradually, waves of it washing over me, building to an unbearable peak until I arched my broad back off the bed, a low groan escaping my bearded lips.

My massive frame shuddered violently, the climax ripping through me, sending spurts of Mr. Clarke’s semen arcing onto the floor, coating my thick hairy thighs in warm, sticky trails, and some residue even splattering upward to get stuck in the scruffy brown beard, clinging to the coarse hairs like dew.

I lay there panting, the afterglow settling over my bulk, sealing my new reality in a haze of reluctant ecstasy.

- Epilogue -

Three years had passed since the accident in the chemistry lab, three years since my life as Noah, the scrawny college senior, dissolved completely into the void of a black hole and left me forever trapped in the massive, hairy body of Bruce Clarke, Westview High’s infamous uptight and cruel science professor.

The classroom, once a place of quiet dread and stolen glances, had become my domain, its fluorescent lights humming softly overhead, the sharp tang of chemicals as familiar now as the constant, grounding weight of my own thick frame. I stood at the front of the classroom each day, chalk dust coating my blunt fingers, my deep voice rumbling through the space as I lectured a new batch of students on molecular bonds and atomic structures that I barely knew anything about myself.

My dress shirts, always custom-tailored larger to accommodate the broad expanse of my chest and the soft curve of my gut, pulled snugly across the coarse hair beneath. My khaki pants hugged my powerful thighs and rounded ass, the fabric stretching with every deliberate step I took across the linoleum floor, a sensual reminder of the man I had fully become.

In the beginning, Dan and I had spent frantic weeks trying to undo the impossible fusion, experimenting late into the nights in the empty lab, recreating mixtures and testing the black hole on objects, animals, anything we could think of. But every attempt failed, and by the end of the first month, exhaustion and resignation settled over us like a heavy blanket. 

“It’s no use, dude,” Dan had said one evening, his voice quiet as he rolled the anomaly back up. “I don’t think you’re getting out of that big body. Ever...”

I nodded slowly, feeling the beard scratch against my collar, the weight of my chest shifting as I breathed deeply, and something inside me had quietly surrendered.

Eventually, Dan and I drifted apart, the strain of our changed dynamic too much to bear. He could not look at Mr. Clarke’s rugged face without flinching, could not hear that gruff voice without remembering the professor he had despised, even though he knew it was me trapped inside.

“It’s just too weird, man,” he confessed one afternoon in the empty classroom, his eyes fixed on the floor as the black hole sat rolled up in his backpack. “I hate that I still feel angry when I see you. It’s not fair to you, but I can’t help it.”

I understood, my massive hand resting gently on his shoulder, the touch heavy and paternal in a way that made us both uncomfortable. After that, our meetings grew shorter, rarer, until they stopped altogether.

I had no choice but to settle fully into Bruce Clarke’s life, his quiet apartment, his solitary routines, his very identity. The first months were a slow, deliberate adjustment, each day a lesson in inhabiting this towering body. I learned the rhythm of his mornings: the hot shower where steam clung to the thick hair on my chest and back, the way my heavy cock and balls swayed as I toweled off, the satisfying stretch of my broad shoulders as I buttoned a fresh shirt. I navigated grocery stores with my wide frame, feeling eyes linger on my bulk, my ass filling the seat of my small car. I graded papers late into the evening, my calloused fingers gripping the red pen, the creak of my new reinforced desk chair a constant companion beneath my spreading weight.

But as seasons turned, resistance melted into familiarity, then into something warmer, deeper. I began to crave the sensations of this body, the way sweat gathered in the dense fur of my chest on warm days, the powerful thud of my footsteps, the delicious heft of my thighs when I sat. 

Alone in the apartment, I found myself drawn to mirrors more and more. I would strip slowly, savoring the slide of fabric over hairy skin, standing naked before the full-length glass in the bedroom. The reflection mesmerized me: a stereotypical lumberjack of a man, 6’8” of solid mass, chest broad and forested with dark curls that trailed all the way down to my crotch. I ran my thick hands over it all, palms sinking into warm flesh, thumbs circling nipples buried in fur, feeling them harden under my touch. My arms, thick and strong, flexed as I explored, veins standing out beneath the hair-dusted skin. Lower still, my cock hung heavy between muscular thighs, stirring as I cupped the weight of my balls, the musky scent of the day rising warmly.

Yet it was my ass that truly captivated me, that massive, rounded mound of muscle and softness that shifted with every movement. I turned sideways, watching it in the mirror, reaching back to grip the cheeks, fingers digging deep into the dense flesh, spreading them slightly to feel the heat within. It jiggled subtly when I walked, filled my pants to bursting, and in those private moments I reveled in its size, its power, its sheer sensuality. This body, once a prison of shame and loss, had become a source of dark, intoxicating pleasure. I was no longer Noah. I was Bruce Clarke, and I slowly grew to love every heavy, sweaty, hairy inch of my new self.

Then, months later and right before graduation, Dan reappeared suddenly, his eyes burning with a wild, desperate hunger. He cornered me after school in the lab, the black hole clutched tightly in his hands. 

“I want it,” he said, voice trembling with excitement. “I want Austin’s body. All of it. The looks, the strength, the privileges. You have to help me, Noah. Please!”

I hesitated, memories of my own irreversible mistake flooding back, but the plea in his eyes, the years of torment we had endured from Austin and his crew, wore down my resistance. Against every instinct, I agreed.

That afternoon I lured Austin to the classroom under the pretense of discussing his borderline grades, my deep voice calm and authoritative as I gestured for him to sit. While the jock slouched defiantly, bragging about his athletic scholarship, Dan emerged silently from the supply closet behind him. In one swift motion, he slapped the black hole onto Austin’s broad, muscular back. The star athlete stiffened, a shocked scream escaping his lips before his perfect body went limp, collapsing forward onto the desk.

I watched, heart pounding in my thick chest, as Dan stripped off his shirt and climbed eagerly into the void, his slim frame disappearing inch by inch into Austin’s chiseled form. The sight stirred something dark in me, arousal mixing with guilt. When Dan was fully inside, eyes fluttering open behind Austin’s handsome face, he grinned wickedly and nodded. Without a word, I reached forward and ripped the black hole away, sealing his fate just as mine had been sealed years before.

The void came free with a soft, wet sound before Austin’s body shuddered and fell onto the floor, convulsing violently for a few minutes before returning to normal, although now permanently inhabited by my old friend.

“Holy shit,” the new Austin breathed, flexing powerful arms, running hands over sculpted abs. “It worked. I’m freakin’ Austin now!”

That evening, the new Austin insisted on coming over to the apartment, his voice over the phone laced with that cocky drawl he had already mastered. I could only agree, my deep rumble quiet and resigned, even though I knew exactly what dark intentions burned in his eyes. He arrived just after dusk, filling the doorway with his perfect athletic frame, shirt stretched tight over sculpted pecs, jeans hugging powerful thighs. The contrast hit me immediately: his smooth, golden skin against my hairy bulk as he stepped inside, grinning like he owned the place.

We barely spoke before he pushed me back toward the bedroom, hands greedy on my broad chest, tugging at my shirt buttons until they popped free. Clothes fell away in a heated rush, and soon he had me bent over, my thick palms pressed against the full-length bedroom mirror, my bearded face inches from the glass. Cool air kissed my sweaty skin as he positioned himself behind me, his hard cock sliding teasingly between my heavy cheeks before pressing in slow and deep. The stretch burned deliciously, and I groaned, the sound rumbling from my hairy chest as he buried himself fully in Mr. Clarke’s thick ass.

The mirror in front of us showed everything: Austin’s flawless chiseled body gleaming with sweat, muscles rippling with every thrust, while my massive, hairy form rocked forward, broad shoulders flexing, thick flesh shifting under coarse fur across my back and chest. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room, my big ass bouncing loudly with each powerful drive, while the sound echoing off the walls like thunder.

“Look at you, Mr. Clarke,” he growled, voice dripping with triumphant venom as he gripped my wide hips harder, pulling me back onto his cock. “Always acting like you were better than everyone, barking orders in that stupid deep voice. Now you’re just a thick hairy daddy taking my dick like you were born for it.”

I moaned, eyes locked on my own reflection, mesmerized by the flushed bearded face staring back, mouth open in helpless pleasure, sweat dripping from my brow into the scruffy hair.

“That’s right, you massive old lumberjack,” he continued, slowing his thrusts to long, deliberate strokes that made my thick thighs tremble. “Feel this perfect cock stretching your hairy hole. I’ve got the body you could only dream of: tight abs, big arms, perfect skin. And you? You’re just a big, heavy brute with fur everywhere. Look at all that coarse hair on your chest. Bet it traps all your sweat like the thick bear you are.”

He laughed, reaching around to tug roughly at the dense mat on my chest, pinching a nipple hard enough to make me gasp. “God, these heavy pecs are huge under all that fur. And this trail running down your thick gut,” he traced it with mocking fingers, “leading straight to that musky crotch like the bearded giant you are.”

My cock throbbed harder at the degradation, leaking steadily onto the floor as I pushed back against him, craving more despite the shame. I moaned loudly, voice shaking as my broad back arched.

“Yeah, moan for me, Clarke,” he taunted, flexing one bicep beside my head so I could see it in the mirror, kissing the hard bicep while slamming deeper. “This is what real power feels like. I’m the star now, the perfect jock, and you’re just the thick hairy professor begging for my cock. Say it. Tell me how much better I am.”

“You… you’re better,” I rasped, voice thick and broken, staring at my own hairy bulk submitting so completely. “You’re perfect… young… strong…”

“Louder, you thick brute,” he demanded, slapping my ass hard, the cheek rippling wildly.

“I- I’m nothing like you,” I groaned louder, the words spilling out as he thrust harder, forcing them from me. “I’m just a big, hairy middle-aged college professor with a fat heavy ass!”

“That’s it, keep going, professor,” he laughed, pounding faster. “Now say how much you love watching your own reflection get fucked like this. Admit you’re just a hairy perverted man who deserves it for looking down on me all those years.”

“I love it,” I confessed breathlessly, the sight of my bearded face twisted in ecstasy pulling more words from me. “I love seeing my big hairy thick reflection being fucked against the mirror. This heavy old body I’m stuck in forever, jiggling and sweating in this small town as the uptight middle-aged professor who can barely fit anywhere.”

He reached climax then, roaring as he flexed both arms, veins popping. Hot pulses filled me, spilling down my thick thighs. “Fuck yeah! I’m Austin McCormack! Star athlete, perfect body, blowing my load deep in the science professor’s hairy ass! Look at these guns!”

The overwhelming sensation pushed me over too. My cock erupted untouched, thick ropes splattering the mirror, streaking down over my reflected chest and fur. I whimpered pathetically, mimicking him in broken surrender. “I-I’m Bruce Clarke… just a middle-aged college professor… with a big hairy body and thick ass… stuck in this small town forever…”

He pulled out slowly, laughing as my hole gaped and leaked, then slapped my ass one last time, watching it bounce against the impact. “Fuck, this ass is unreal. So big and juicy and hairy, like two thick muscular pillows. No wonder you could barely fit through doors. Remember that day you sat down and broke the damn chair? Crack, boom, big bad Mr. Clarke sprawled on the floor like a toppled tree, fat ass in the air, face red as a tomato. Bet the whole school would’ve paid to see that. And now here it is, bouncing beautifully while I fuck it raw.”

I whimpered, the memory burning hot through me, my reflection showing Mr. Clarke’s stern eyes now soft and pleading, filled with lust. Without pause, he spun me around, shoved me onto the bed, and climbed over me, sliding back in with ease. “But we’re not done, old man. I’m fucking you all night. Years of payback in one evening.”

“Dan,” I gasped as he started thrusting again, my voice trembling. I thought we were just role-playing, but now I wasn’t so sure. “It’s still me inside, you know... Noah, your friend.”

He paused for a split second, then laughed coldly, gripping my beard and forcing my head back. “Friend? Nah, I don’t see Noah anymore. I see a thick bearded daddy, the uptight stern professor who always looked down on me. And look at you, loving every second of watching your own hairy thick reflection get railed. There’s no way we’ll ever be friends, you old perverted man. This is my final goodbye to you, one last fuck from a stud like me. You’re Bruce Clarke now, and I’m Austin McCormack, the prom king and aspiring athlete. Enjoy that big hairy body and your boring small-town life.”

And he did fuck me relentlessly through the night: position after position, hour after hour, he took me on my back with my thick legs over his shoulders, on my side with his arm around my broad chest, on all fours again while he pulled my beard and whispered more humiliating truths about my thickness, my hair, my heavy build. Each time he came, he proclaimed his new identity louder, flexing and posing, while I whimpered mine in quiet defeat, spilling over my own hairy torso again and again, our former bond shattered irreparably, cementing us forever in these new identities and lives.

By morning, he was gone. No note, no goodbye, just the lingering ache in my body and the sticky evidence on the sheets.

I learned later he had left town right after graduation, the black hole vanished with him, off to live the perfect life of Austin McCormack: scholarships, trust funds, and endless possibilities. I did not blame him. He had everything he ever wanted, while I remained the middle-aged science professor with the big, hairy body and the quiet unassuming life.

The disappearance of Dan and the black hole sealed my fate irrevocably. There would be no reversal, no climbing into a new body. My old life as Noah was gone forever, with no hopes of ever returning. But as I stood in the shower that morning, hot water cascading over my broad back, running down through the dense hair, down the curve of my big ass and between my thick thighs, a profound peace settled over me. I ran my hands over myself slowly, possessively, feeling every inch of this magnificent form.

Later, dressed in fresh khakis and a snug shirt, I sat at my desk with coffee and papers, the reinforced chair creaking comfortably beneath my weight, my ass spreading wide and familiar.

I was Bruce Clarke now, completely and without reservation. Science professor, hairy giant, and infamous owner of the biggest ass in town. And in the quiet moments, before the mirror or alone in bed, I celebrated this mature body with slow, worshipful touches, reveling in its size, its hair, its unrelenting presence. The black hole had taken everything from my old life, but it had given me this, a deep, sensual love for the man I had ultimately become.

The End?