#possesion

Part two of Daryl's story. Part one found here

I stepped into The Rusty Nail just after ten, the bar’s low lights wrapping around me like an old friend. Frank’s body moved with that easy, heavy confidence I was still getting used to. Broad shoulders rolling, belly leading the way, thick thighs rubbing together in the tight jeans. Underneath it all, the cum-soaked wrestling singlet clung to my stolen skin like a filthy secret, the spandex still tacky and warm from my load, every step making it squelch softly against my heavy balls and the thick shaft that kept half-hard just from the constant rub. The place was half-full, mostly blue-collar guys nursing pitchers after long shifts. I scanned the room and my new heart stuttered when I spotted him. Thomas. An old coworker of mine who left our job about 5 months ago.

He was even bigger than I remembered: 350lbs of soft, lonely fat, pale skin stretched tight over a massive gut that rested on his thighs, heavy tits straining the front of a faded black hoodie, thick thighs spilling over the barstool, and a round, bearded face that looked equal parts tired and hopeful under the neon glow. His eyes were downcast, swishing a cheap whiskey, one meaty hand wrapped around the glass like it was the only thing keeping him company. Perfect. I sauntered over, letting Frank’s deep voice rumble out low and friendly.

“Hey there, big guy. That seat taken?” Thomas looked up, startled, then did a slow double take at the burly, bearded construction body I was wearing. His cheeks flushed under the beard.

“Uh… no, man. All yours.” I slid onto the stool beside him, Frank’s belly brushing the bar edge, and ordered two beers. We started easy; small talk about the game on the TV, the weather, how the city was going to shit. But I could feel his eyes on me, flicking over my chest hair peeking from the open buttons, the way the black shirt stretched across my shoulders, the faint blue outline of the singlet underneath when I shifted. I let my knee press against his thick thigh under the bar, casual at first, then deliberate.

“You look like you could use some real company tonight,” I said, voice dropping to Frank’s gravelly register. “Not just the cheap stuff in that glass.” Thomas laughed, nervous, but his eyes lit up.

“Yeah? You offering, stranger?” I leaned in closer, letting him smell Frank’s natural musk mixed with the faint, sweet scent of leftover oil and dried cum seeping through the singlet.

“Name’s Frank. Live a couple blocks over. But… I ain’t exactly who you think I am.” His brow furrowed. I grinned behind the beard and dropped my voice even lower, letting a hint of my own familiar cadence bleed through, the one he’d recognize. “It’s me, Tommy. Daryl, from Curt & Russel.” His eyes went wide. The whiskey glass nearly slipped from his fingers.

“No fucking way…”I reached over, placed Frank’s big, calloused hand on his knee, and squeezed.

“Way. Found something real. Magic oil. Poured it all over my soft ass last night, slid head-first into my neighbor’s hole while he was out cold. Now I’m him. Every inch. Feel this?” I guided his hand under the table, letting him palm the thick, half-hard bulge straining the jeans—and the unmistakable slick, spandex-covered shape beneath. “That’s his cock. My cock now. And under the clothes? His kid’s wrestling singlet. Soaked in my load. Still warm.” Thomas’s breath hitched, his massive chest rising fast. I could see the front of his hoodie tenting already.

“Jesus Christ, Daryl… you actually did it. You’re… you’re wearing him like a fucking suit.” I nodded, slow and filthy, letting Frank’s beard brush his ear as I whispered every detail. Thomas was panting by the time I finished, his free hand discreetly adjusting the massive hard on trapped under his gut. Then the idea hit me. I pulled back just enough to look him dead in the eye, my stolen cock twitching at the thought.

“You’re still lonely, aren’t you? Wishing you could wear something young and tight and strong instead of… this.” I let my eyes drag over his huge, soft body with zero shame. I loved every pound of it, and I knew he did too in that twisted way we both got off on. Thomas swallowed hard.

“Every damn night.”I squeezed his knee again.

“I can help. Frank’s got a son. Jake. Eighteen. Lean, muscular wrestler. Comes back from a tournament tomorrow night. Tight ass, strong legs, smooth chest, cock that’s probably never been properly used. You slide into him the same way I did. Live in that jock. I’ll hold him down for you. We’ll make it slow. Filthy. You’ll feel every inch of his guts hugging you like a glove while I watch.”

His eyes were glassy with lust. “You’re serious.”

“Dead serious. I’ve still got the oil at Frank’s place. Brewed a fresh batch this morning just in case. He walks in the door tired from the meet, I offer him a ‘welcome home’ beer, same knockout stuff I used on his dad. You wait in the basement, oiled and ready. When he’s out, I strip him, lube his hole, you slide in. Then we both walk around in our new skins.”

Thomas was breathing like he’d run a mile. “Fuck… yes. God, yes. I want it. I want to feel what it’s like to be… tight. Strong. To have a body that turns heads instead of getting pitied.”

We spent the next hour at the bar hammering out the plan in hushed, dirty detail. I described Jake to him, 5'10, 185lbs of pure lean muscle, short brown hair, smooth skin, an ass like two firm melons from all the squats, a cock that I’d seen once by accident in the backyard (thick, cut, swinging heavy even soft). We decided I’d text him the second Jake pulled into the driveway. By the time we left the bar, my new cock was aching and Thomas was walking funny from how hard he was. I clapped him on his massive shoulder with Frank’s strong hand.

“Tomorrow night, Tommy. You’re gonna be so fucking beautiful inside that boy.” He grinned, shaky and hungry. I went home and jerked off twice more in the singlet just thinking about it, then crashed in Frank’s big bed, belly rising and falling under the sheets, already imagining the sounds Thomas would make when he finally got to stretch and fill and settle.

The next evening came slowly.Jake’s truck rumbled into the driveway right on schedule, just after eight. I was waiting on the porch in Frank’s body, a cold beer already in each hand.

“Hey, champ! Tough weekend?” He looked beat. Hair messy, duffel bag slung over one broad shoulder, wrestling hoodie clinging to his lean torso, gym shorts showing off those powerful legs.

“Yeah, Dad. Took second in my weight class, though. You shoulda seen the final match.”

I pulled him into a big, burly hug, letting him feel the solid weight of his father’s chest against him.

“Proud of you. Come on in, I decided you're ready for your first beer with your old man."

"For real?" Jasked, almost suspiciously. But he was too young and eager to get a drink to object. Jake took the beer, and chugged half of it in the kitchen while I made small talk about the tournament. The knockout powder worked fast on his young system. By the time we hit the living room he was swaying, eyes glassy.

“Dad… feel weird…”I caught him as his knees buckled, easing that tight wrestler body down onto the couch.

“Easy, son. Just relax.” Thomas was already coming up from the basement, completely naked, his enormous fat body glistening head-to-toe in thick golden oil. He looked obscene and gorgeous. Huge belly swaying, heavy tits bouncing, thick cock jutting out like a beer can, dripping pre and oil in long strings. His eyes locked on Jake’s unconscious form and he let out a low, needy groan.I stripped Jake fast, revealing the smooth, muscled eighteen-year-old underneath. Tight abs, hairless chest, a soft but thick cock nestled against heavy balls, and that perfect, pink hole winking between two firm glutes. I poured the rest of the oil straight down his crack, rubbing it in with Frank’s thick fingers until everything shone. Then I grabbed Jake’s wrists, pinning them above his head with one strong hand while I used my knee to spread his legs wide.

“He’s all yours, Tommy. Take your time. I want to watch every inch disappear into my boy.”

Thomas knelt between those spread thighs, oil-slick body trembling with anticipation. He pressed the fat, leaking head of his cock against Jake’s oiled hole and pushed. The stretch was immediate and filthy. Jake’s ring bloomed open around the massive girth, a long, wet squelch echoing as the first three inches sank inside. Thomas moaned loud, his huge belly resting on the boy’s abs as he fed more of himself in.

“Oh my god… so tight…” I watched, cock throbbing in my jeans, as Thomas’s thick shaft disappeared inch by slow, bulging inch. The outline of his cock was visible under Jake’s smooth skin, sliding deeper, pressing against the boy’s prostate until Jake’s soft dick twitched and started to harden against his own belly. Thomas kept going, his heavy balls popping through the stretched ring one after the other with wet, vulgar pops. Then his hips—his fat, soft ass—followed, the boy’s hole gaping and fluttering around the invasion until Thomas’s massive gut started to compress and slide inside.The bulge was grotesque and beautiful: Jake’s lean abs distending outward around Thomas’s enormous belly, the shape of it pushing up under the skin before smoothing out as more of the fat man fed in. Thomas’s heavy tits dragged along the boy’s chest as he sank deeper, nipples hard, breath coming in ragged gasps. I held Jake down tighter, feeling the boy’s body twitch and clench around my friend’s slow, relentless takeover.

“Fuck, Daryl… he’s swallowing me… every heavy inch…” Thomas groaned in that familiar voice, now raw with lust. His shoulders popped through next, stretching Jake’s hole to its absolute limit, golden oil and pre and ass-juice slicking everything in a shiny mess. Finally his head, eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy as the last of him slid home with a long, sucking slurp. All that remained were Tommy's legs as they got greedily slurped up.Jake’s hole closed tight around nothing, pink and glistening. It was like Jake was pregnant, a rotund figure squirming in his stomach, slowly spreading out across the remainder of his body.

I could make out the outlines of Tommy's arms as they fumbled aroudn in the darkness, finally finding their way into Jake's and taking place. His legs did the same, as he was putting on Jake like a pair of pants. Jake's stomach began to deflate as Tommy settled in. I could even see his pathetic little cock trying to find its way into its new shaft. I rubbed it a bit, making Thomas squirm, before helping guide his balls and cock into place. Jake's grew to its full 6 inches, red and glistening as they locked into place. Finally I could see Thomas's head pushing through Jake's neck, a bulbous figure which finally found its way to Jake's scalp.

Thomas flexed inside the new skin, and Jake’s body answered perfectly. The boy’s eyes opened, now burning with Thomas’s hungry gaze. He looked down at the lean, muscled chest, ran smooth, strong hands over tight abs, squeezed the thick, hard cock that was now his. “Holy… shit…” It was Jake’s voice, but the words, the groan, the filthy little laugh—that was all Thomas. “I’m him. I’m Jake!”

I released the wrists, grinning behind Frank’s beard as the new Jake sat up, flexing those wrestler arms, admiring the way the young body moved—light, powerful, every muscle responding instantly. The contrast was insane: my burly, belly-heavy Frank suit next to this tight, smooth eighteen-year-old skin suit that used to belong to my “son.” Thomas-in-Jake stood up on shaky new legs, cock still leaking, and pulled meinto a deep, hungry kiss. “Thank you,” he whispered against my beard, voice cracking with the boy’s timbre. “Now what.... dad?”I squeezed his firm ass with one big hand, feeling the oil-slick residue still inside. “Now we go upstairs. You put on that fresh singlet I saw in his room. We both get dressed like nothing happened. And then… we hit the town".

Quick Lesson

My asshole uncle completely humiliated me at a family get-together just because I'm more on the feminine side. He even started spouting bullshit, making me out to be nothing but a sex-starved bottom. I wasn't about to let that slide.

My son, I found him in a trashcan.