Hot Guys Are My Poison

I was walking through Central Square, when I saw something that made my gut wrench. My bro’, Josh was sitting with that queer from school. Damnit, that was the last straw. He’d been acting weird for the past few days. The other guys hand’t noticed, he knew everything, played football–as he always did, but there was something different. I’d known Josh since we were kids; knew what he liked, and what he hated. I could even second guess him, that’s why were a good team when we played on the field. Its like we were connected in some way. Two days ago, during practice, I was running down the field, waiting for Josh to throw the ball. I knew he’d seen me, and I waited. I looked over at him, he was in a daze, not even looking at me, then he threw it to Jackson. I couldn’t believe what I’d seen. Throwing my hands up, I jogged back to Josh. “What the fuck? I was there, waiting for ya.” He looked bemused, “Sorry,” he paused, “erm.” His eyes flicked away and he frowned, “Ray,” he finally added. “What! Now you forget my name?” “Sorry bro’ slipped my mind for a moment.” I was going to rip into him when coach blew his whistle, and he just jogged off leaving me muttering to myself. As the days passed, I noticed our usual tight bro-ness had vaporised. He’d frequently disappear by himself, and failed to turn up at our usual haunts. I texted him a few times, asking what the fuck was up, but I never got an answer. Seeing him with this guy was completely alien, Josh was straight, a real jock! Damn the guy was leaning on him, close enough to kiss! Dodging into the shadows, I watched. They talked for a while, then Josh got to his feet and walked towards the coffee shop; I followed. He headed to the back of the shop, for a leak I’d guessed. As he opened the door, I pushed him through and into the large bathroom, locking the door behind me. “What the hell!” He shouted as he spun on his heals. “What the fuck do you want?” “I want to know why you’re jerking me around, who are you and what have you done with my bro’?” I said as a joke, but the colour from his cheeks faded, then he looked away.. He tried to push past me, but I held him back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, shrinking away from me. “I’m Josh McIntyre.” His attitude and presence were a reflection of the Josh I knew. I was losing my patience. Lunging for him, I punched him in the stomach expecting him to protect himself; we often roughed each other up, but he buckled and crumpled to the floor. Pulled him to his feet, I slammed him against the wall. I came in close, staring him down, barring my teeth. “Who are you, because you’re not my bro’!” It had been a rhetorical question, but Josh answered. “Ok, Ok, I don’t know how you figured it out, but I’m not Josh.” I tightened my grip on his shirt. He was wearing Josh’s clothes, he looked and sounded like him, hell he smelt like him. I started to breath hard, and a tightness strained against my pants. Damn, he smelt so good. “Explain!” I shouted in his face. “I’m just wearing him, I didn’t want to–I swear!” he bleated. I said nothing, just stared at him. “It was Sam’s idea!” “Is that the prick you were outside with?” “Yeah, he’s been inside your friend for a few days now, but he wanted–” “What? What, what did he want?” He swallowed hard, “To go on a date with your friend, be seen in public together. He’s even booked a hotel.” He begins to blush, “And you know. He-he wanted to know what it would be like to be fucked by the star quarterback,” he stuttered. “I’ve only been wearing him for a few hours!” I slammed him against the wall again, “So who are you, who the fuck are you. Tell me, or I’ll hurt you real bad!” “Raymond, Sam’s boyfriend,” he whispered. “Get the fuck out of my friend,” I hissed, stepping back. He gave me a sheepish look, “What are you going to do?” I didn’t reply, only watched as he removed Josh’s clothes. I let out a grunt, and pushed at the increasing bulge in my pants. He pushed his fingers into his mouth and pulled outwards. Josh’s perfect face disfigured as it stretched to ridiculous proportions. From inside his mouth I could see a nose, some eyes and a pasty forehead as the occupant struggled to free himself. The face that appeared was younger than both Josh or Sam. As he worked his way free of Josh’s body I could see that he had a lean body which contrasted to my friends.

With Josh’s lips stretched around his waist, he looked up at me, then turned to face the wall. He then continued to pull my friend’s body over his ass and down his legs. Finally he kicked himself free and turned to face me, his hands covering his groin. I looked down at Josh. “How do I get him back?” “You don’t have to do anything, just leave him for an hour and he’ll go back to just how he was before.” “Jesus, what a fuck up. He’s going to need therapy after this.” Sam smiled. “No, he won’t remember anything–not while he’s like that.” “But you said the other guy was inside him? He was acting just like him, but I noticed subtle things–because I’ve known him so long.” Sam sucks on his lip. “Well, once you’re wearing him, you sort of get his memories, like reflections, but that’s all,” he said. “There’s no clues on how to act like him. Sam’s aced his drama class, and can play the straight jock easily. He’s been studying your friend for a few weeks.” I scowled at the kid in front of me, “That’s sick!” He took a step back. “So what are you going to do with me?” Looking around, I noticed the storage room. “Get in there,” I demanded. He compiled, and I locked the door behind him. I looked down at my friend–my crush for the past ten or so years. I was bi, but I’d not told anyone even Josh. I grabbed his shoulders and lifted him; he was heavy. I held he close, throwing his flaccid arms over my shoulders. I took a deep breath, taking in his smell. I felt my dick shift again. I held up his head, it resembled my friend, but it was disfigured without any support. I looked into his brown, lifeless eyes, for a moment before kissing him. I knew in an hour, this would be just a memory, mine, not his. This was my dream, but it felt just as empty as Josh. Sighing, I let him drop to the floor, his handsome face looked up at me. His perfect hair, eyes and lips; not to mention the rest of his physique. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, the kid had said I should just leave him for an hour and he’d come back. Back to as we were before, us being best buds, but him not knowing how much I lusted after him. While he was like this, he wouldn’t remember anything. I thought about Sam, he’d be wondering where Josh was, or where Raymond was–wearing Josh. Shit, I hadn’t had a good fuck for weeks. “Sorry bud, but needs must and you’re not going to remember any of this anyway.” Stripping off my clothes, I grasped Josh’s mouth and pulled it open. A waft of air escaped, this time it wasn’t my friends, it was young and flowery–Raymond’s sweat. I began to feed in my feet, guiding them down into Josh’s. I pulled up his athletic legs, and after some frustrating few minutes I managed to force my hardened member inside my friends. I marvelled at its sight. I’d seen it in the showers; thick and long, with a neatly clipped bush, but never from this angle. I touched it, and instantly felt a shiver snake up my spine. It bobbed slowly, and it took me a few moments to realise–for the moment–it was just a sheath, and I was animating it. That thought motivated me, and I continued to pull on Josh’s body. The feeling was amazing as I made his muscular arms, chest and shoulders my own. I looked in the mirror, turning this way and that admiring the body I had lusted after for so long. But in my mind there was a problem, it was blemished, with my head atop his body. I wasted no time in completing my transformation, and closed my eyes before quickly secured his face over mine. I opened my eyes and looked at Josh in the mirror. I peered in closer, my blue eyes were gone, in their place my friend’s deep brown ones. I checked for any flaws in the disguise, but it was perfect, just as when I’d seen Raymond wearing it earlier, and Sam before that. Then I felt a soft prickling in my mind, then Josh’s memories blossomed. Everything was there, I could feel it all. Then I sensed something else, a second set of memories. I frowned, then they came through bright; they were Raymond’s! A side effect? I asked myself. I was able to recall his plan with Josh–no Sam who was wearing Josh! The way he tenderly took Raymond’s hand and led him into the locker rooms after school. The rough foreplay, something I’d expect of the real Josh, only to be followed by gentle show of affection that had to be Sam’s personality surfacing. Then I could see Josh pulling at his mouth, a sharp tug and Sam’s face being revealed. Later I could sense Raymond’s excitement as he pulled on my friends body. It was all there! I looked at the storage room where Raymond was, then with a grin I snapped off the key in the lock. I got dressed in Josh’s clothes, I knew how he liked to wear them. Pulling at the t-shirt, I made sure that it exposed maximum cleavage. I checked the mirror again and plucked at ‘my’ hair–he was, no, I was perfect. I left the bathroom, and turned the sign on the door to say, ‘closed for cleaning’. I was walking tall, confident and cocky–after all I was the star quarterback. Wandering back to Sam I sat down. “You were a long time,” he said. I smirked and flexed a bicep. “Yeah, sort of got caught up in the moment.” “Well, don’t get too attached,” Sam said, “I want him back tomorrow.” Leaning in I kissed Sam, using Raymond’s memories I played the part with perfect precision. After a minute I pulled away leaving Sam gasping. “Wow!” Sam exclaimed. “You alway were the best kisser, but with his body, it was just so much hotter!” I smiled. “Shall we go?” We got up, and Sam led the way, I took his hand and we walked to the hotel. I’d been acting straight all my life, with Raymond’s memories it would be easy to fool Sam. I leaned over and whispered in Sam’s ear, “You know this guy has to be a top, just like in the locker rooms when you were wearing him.” Sam looked over, a sceptical expression on his face. “You think you can pull off the arrogant jock?” “Fuck yeah, you little queer,” I said with a grin. The truth being, I could pull off the perfect Josh as well. Sam may have studied him for a week, but I’ve known him for years. With his memories, and what I’ve learnt over time, I can fill in the cracks and pull off the perfect act. Sorry bro’ but what better way to experience your crush than on the inside. Seriously, I feel for you Josh. When you find out your best bro’ has gone missing, I know you’ll be cut up about it, but life goes on. You’ll tell them how much of an impact I made on your life, and you’ll wish I was safe wherever I was… …where in reality, I’m deep inside you, being the alpha jock!

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Override: Bootstrap

Previous part: Override

— Ugh, how can people walk with this thing? – IAY0 trudged across the campus, trying to adjust his tool. These were his first steps, and they weren't exactly comfortable. He wasn't adapting very well to being a human (or rather, to being a guy). Although, to be fair, the body he'd chosen was... well-endowed.

He had only one point on the imaginary map of his mind to reach: Leo's room. It wasn't that far, according to his memory (yes... his creator had perhaps also fed him maps once, and he hoped his own intuition wouldn't fail him). He continued walking strangely, a robotic pickaxe, lifting his leg exaggeratedly and then putting it back down, over and over again. He felt that his eyes were strange too; he had no physical form before becoming... that, of course, but he was used to seeing his interface all around him, with diagrams, binary code, illustrations, and all his knowledge at his fingertips, but now he only saw... what was in front of him.

— Um… – he murmured, finding a sign in front of him. It was a post with directions to three places: student wing A, wing B, and the library. He approached to "press" it, expecting the exact distance from the origin to the destination to appear, but obviously, nothing happened. – Why isn't this working? – He pressed it again, without success.

— Tyler? Are you feeling okay? – he heard another guy's voice. He was burly, strong, not in an extremely strange way, but you could see that he worked out.

— Tyler? – IAY0 asked, confused, until he realized his mistake – Of course! I'm great because I'm... Tyler! – The guy in front of him, whose name was Kevin, gave him a puzzled look.

— Damn, dude, I told you you should lay off those weird proteins. They're really messing with your brain, it seems, and-

— Do you know how I can get to Student Wing B?

— I uh... Why would I know how to get there? It's not like our dorm is there, you literally have the building right behind you-

— Then, bye – He gave a slight bow before choosing the path to the right; if his memory served him right, that was the way.

— Fucking weirdo – Kevin muttered, shaking his head as he entered the building.

IAY0 moved forward, observing the things around him. He had never been out in the world before, of course; everything had been shown to him as simple images, so having it in front of him now was... different. The trees were leafy, the trunks rough, and the stars were beautiful. His gaze remained fixed on the sky, the glow illuminating his irises as he continued to admire the view, smiling.

Suddenly, he heard a bark. His gaze quickly lowered to find the source of the sound. A small Pomeranian puppy was barking at him. The AI ​​was drawn to it, curious. The creature continued barking while circling and wagging its tail. The new Tyler couldn't contain himself any longer. He quickly lunged toward it, placing his paws on the grass to mimic its posture, barking back a couple of times. This seemed to delight the puppy, which did it again. They exchanged barks, the new human even sticking out his tongue in the process.

— Tyler? – he heard a voice behind him, a somewhat sleepy guy rubbing his eyes while wearing pajamas that looked like they were featuring a dinosaur or something similar – What... the hell are you doing? – IAY0's eyes lit up at the mere sound of his voice. He jumped up and lunged at him, knocking Leo to the ground in the process. Leo felt like he couldn't breathe under the weight of nearly 80 kg of pure muscle. His glasses flew off, and his hair, disheveled from both being asleep and the "attack", lay sprawled on the grass.

‘Shit, where is it?!’ Rebecca thought to herself in a panic.

She had swallowed the mixture of her brother Matt’s hair and the herbal blend she found on the internet moments before, but the transformation process was taking longer than expected. Someone could come around the corner at any minute!

———

Matt was supposed to be throwing a pool party with his rugby teammates, but Rebecca wanted to get closer to Wes, one of her brother’s closest friends and captain of the team. She had seen him on her brother’s Instagram several times before, and he was purely mouthwatering. She knew her odds of winning Wes over were low if he had no clue she was, so she planned to change that. Matt had made it explicitly clear that she was neither to be seen nor heard while his teammates were over and that she was expected to leave them the fuck alone, but Rebecca had other plans in mind. Her plan involved doing a quick change into her brother—something she hadn’t done before but had seen it done plenty of times online—and then planting a bug in Wes’s ear while disguised as her brother, something about having a hot sister he could set him up with, and then leaving. In and out. Matt would be knocked out upstairs, she would be parading around as Matt, no one would know she’s even there, easy peasy.

Knocking her brother out was the easiest part, he just needed to inhale a sort of powder she had concocted, and a surprise puff into his face did the trick. It was weird taking her brother’s speedo off his body while she was out, but growing up with an older brother, you see a lot around the house. The weirdest part was when she had to become him. She dragged him into her room, plucked a single hair from his head like the instructions said, and dropped it into the mixture she had procured, his fair fizzling into nothing and incorporating into the mixture as soon as it hit the surface. Knowing she didn’t have much time to get this done, she stripped down to her birthday suit and lifted the bowl to her mouth, drinking all of its contents with a few gags due to its wildly bitter taste.

After years of sitting on it, I couldn’t deny it any longer, I was in love with my gay roomate. The only promblem was I, as a woman, was not his type. How couldn’t I, Dylan was the complete package. He's an absolute hunk, spending practically all his free time at the gym. But he’s more than a wall of muscle with beautiful eyes and a winning smile. He’s actually sweet and caring, and never fails to make me laugh. When I broke up with my asshole of an ex, he sat down with me and was a shoulder to cry on. Since then, I couldn’t help but fall in love with him. I tried so many times to ease my way into a more romantic light, subtly flirting with him and trying to make my crush obvious, but he seemed to look at me as nothing but his friend. Then he finally came out as gay and everything started to make sense. Still my heart was broken.

I tried my best to move on, but every time he would bring home a Grindr date home or go on about another one of his boy-crushes; I began to want him more. It seemed like an impossible task… until I stumbled upon a shop website called the NewU.

At first I thought it was some kind of prostitution website until I looked into it further. The homepage had a photo of different attractive men and women, but clicking on it revealed another picture of the same person unmasked to reveal a whole other person underneath. Apparently they were bodysuits, artificial yet super realistic skin costumes that would make you look, sound, and fuck like a different person. I couldn’t believe my eyes. There were many default models to choose from: all sorts of athletes, celebrities and other hotties. But I was more interested in the custom option. With my longing heart and my credit card, I got to work to make a bodysuit with one goal in mind, to transform myself into Dylan’s perfect man.

A few weeks passed and I anxiously awaited for the delivery of my new body. Finally it arrived, but Dylan was the one to answer the door. I didn’t realize how big the box would be, but Dylan definitely questioned what was inside the package as tall as him.

I tried not to panic, lying to him that it was just a shelf for my closet. He seemed to buy it, leaving me alone with the package.

I quickly dragged the box into my room. It was much heavier than I initially imagined. Using a pair of scissors I spared no time to slice open the box, revealing the sea of packing peanuts. I dug into the mass until I felt something amazing, smooth skin. The initial touch sent an excited quiver throughout my body. I dug my hands further in, pulling the mass to the surface. In an instant, what appeared to be a beautiful man lay in front of me. Though he looked and felt like a normal person, he felt limp in my hands. His face was expressionless, staring blankly at me. I placed a hand on his rather-large pec, but as I applied pressure it collapsed unnaturally, air escaping from its mouth. I hauled the ‘man’ up onto my bed, posing him upright against the wall. Looking at it, it was perfect!

It was exactly how I customized it on the website. Dylan had an obvious preference with Spanish men with pretty faces. How it looked so real, I could tell you. The website said it was made with some new bio-synthetic material but I didn’t care about the science, only that It would bring me to my love.

I pulled off the white tank to reveal his abs and yummy chest. I took it upon myself to give him some lighter but defined muscles. I pulled down the cheap pants it was wearing to reveal my favorite part. The bigger the better I say and I made sure this guy was packing. I played around with the limp rod, hopefully when I get in it, I can figure out how to bring it to life.

The instructions on the website clearly stated for complete assimilation with the suit, I have to go in fully naked. Heading to my bathroom, I took one last look at my real face in the mirror. It was time to say goodbye to Kayla and become someone else. Stripping out of my clothes I headed towards my bodysuit. I flipped it over looking for the opening. The website offered many different styles like a stretchable-mouth entrance and a detachable head, but I chose to go with the zipper model, just in case I needed to quickly slip out of this person and become me again. The suit came with a layover of skin that would discreetly hide the opening. Pulling down the zipper, I watched as the realistic man collapsed on top itself, becoming a nothing but a weighted pile of synthetic flesh. Though the outer surface felt like human skin, the inside was soft and cool, designed for the user’s comfort.

Nervously, I slipped my foot into the back. As my foot slithered into the right spot, I felt a tingle as it melded with my body. Wiggling the toes, I felt confident that this would work. I decided to push deeper into my new transformation, sensually enjoying the new changes. As I pulled the skin up my waist, replacing my female parts with the new dick, the once flaccid member immediately became rock hard. It was like it had a mind of my own, sticking straight up with a slight curve. Barely able to control myself, I gave the 10 inches a longing squeeze. A splash of pre pumped out giving me an amazing new feeling. I was tempted to handle it right then, but I knew it would be much better when I was fully the new me.

Sliding each arm into the muscles man’s, his chest now melded onto mine, completely hiding my womanly origin. All that was left was my head, still poking out from the suit's back as the mask hung sadly on my pecs. Ducking into the suit's opening, for a moment everything went dark. I wonder how strange it would’ve looked from the outside as I struggled to push my head until it fit correctly into its beautiful Spanish face. Finally I lined my face parts with his, taking them for my own. Blinking with bewilderment, I looked back into the mirror to find I had fully become the man.

I flashed a smug pout. “Hola,” my voice has changed to the steely baritone I had ordered, a voice that would attract Dylan immediately. I practiced the persona I invented in the mirror, it finally fit with my new appearance. “My name is Mateo, I couldn’t help noticing you staring. Let’s take this back to your place.” My hands crept down my new chiseled body, feeling all the new nooks and cranny. I continued to speak, pretending to allure my crush; pumping my rock hard dick until strings of white fluid shot out. Man, that felt crazy good, different from why I was used to, but still amazing.

Fatigued, I crashed onto the rather girly bed, still touching myself and exploring my amazingly hot body. I know I have to keep him a secret until the time is right, but I may just take Mateo out on the town tonight. My ultimate goal is to get Dylan’s attention, but I'm ready to push the limits of this new body. I quickly get changed into the designer clothes I bought just for Mateo and call an Uber to take me to the closest nightclub, a hotbed to test out my new self and make a name for this legendary dick.

My phone screen glows in the dark. Each time I tap something, the man lying on my bed twitches. Sometimes his fingers curl. Sometimes his leg jerks. It’s subtle, but there’s a pattern to it.

“Almost done,” I mumble. “Just calibrating your motor sync.”

He doesn’t respond. He just lies there, completely still except for those random spasms.

You might be wondering, why is there a bodybuilder laying motionless in the bed with eyes mindlessly opened? Even I couldn’t find all of this real. Heck, If someone saw us right now, they’d probably think I somehow did something awful to the guy. A half-naked guy stretched out on my bed while I stare at my phone like a maniac.

The progress bar moves across the screen. Neural Sync: 82%.

I shake my head. “It still sounds insane when I say it out loud… but this guy, the one who lives next door, the one I thought was just a rude gym bro—turns out, he’s a robot.”

I set my phone down and look at him again. “Two weeks ago, I didn’t know any of this.”

=========================================

I’d just moved into my new apartment after finishing my degree in IT and engineering. It was supposed to be a quiet start to a normal life.

The building had a public gym on the first floor. I passed by it while carrying boxes, glanced through the glass, and saw a few people working out. But one guy caught my attention a tall, built, clearly dedicated. Even from that quick look, I knew he was someone people noticed.

I didn’t think much of it and went back to moving my stuff.

Later, when I stepped out to grab another box from the hallway, I saw that same guy again — walking toward me, gym bag slung over his shoulder. 

He stopped at the door next to mine.

I tried to be friendly. “Hey, I just moved in. Nice to meet you.”

He looked at me, expression unreadable, and without saying a word, opened his door and went inside.

I stood there, half-annoyed, half-confused. “Okay,” I muttered. “Guess that’s one way to say hi.”

Over the next few days, life in the new apartment slowly settled into a rhythm. I was still getting used to the place — unpacking, organizing, learning which light switches actually worked, and wandering around the neighborhood whenever I needed a break from staring at empty boxes. The area was decent: quiet streets lined with small cafés, a few parks, a shopping block with hardware stores and laundromats, and that faint hum of city noise that never quite disappears.

I tried to make it a habit to explore. It gave me something to do while I looked for a job. But something started feeling… off. Not scary, not threatening, just weirdly coincidental.

Everywhere I went, that same guy from the gym — my next-door neighbor — showed up.

The first time was in a small side street behind the apartment complex. I’d taken a detour to avoid the main road, and there he was, walking stiffly down the sidewalk. He had those massive over-ear headphones on, his expression blank, eyes focused straight ahead. I remember thinking he looked… mechanical, almost too composed. His posture didn’t change even when I passed by him.

The second time was in the park. I was eating a sandwich on a bench, scrolling through job listings, when I saw him again — jogging along the trail that looped around the lake. His pace was steady. The same length of stride. No breaks. He didn’t slow down once. Even when he circled around for another lap, his speed hadn’t changed at all. Not faster, not slower. Just perfectly consistent.

The third time was in the shopping district, near the hardware and electronics stores. I was there to buy a few extension cords, and there he was again, standing by the counter with a few electronic components in hand. Not the kind of stuff you’d expect a gym bro to buy — more like wires, connectors, and small circuit pieces. For a moment, I wondered if he was also into tech, maybe even an engineer. But he didn’t seem like the type to start small talk, so I left him alone. Still, the coincidence bugged me.

“Okay, what are the odds?” I muttered as I walked back home.

I tried brushing it off. Maybe it was normal. Maybe he just happened to frequent the same places I did. After all, it wasn’t a huge neighborhood.

But as the days went by, it got harder to ignore.

I had too much free time, so I ended up noticing things that most people wouldn’t. Like how every morning, at exactly the same minute, he’d step out of his apartment wearing his running gear. Same route, same jog, same expression. I could practically set a clock by him. He never skipped a day. Not once.

And it wasn’t just his discipline that felt strange — it was the precision. His movements were identical day after day, as if his entire routine was preprogrammed. The angle of his arms when he ran, the number of steps before turning the corner, the duration before returning. It was all too exact.

I told myself I was overthinking it. Some people just have strict routines. But even the most disciplined athletes break rhythm once in a while. They get tired, sick, lazy. They miss a day. This guy? Never.

The weird part didn’t end there. For someone who looked like a textbook extroverted gym bro — muscular, confident, probably popular — he was completely silent outside of his runs. No visitors, no noise, no life coming from his apartment at all.

These walls are paper-thin; I could hear the couple across the hall arguing over what to watch on Netflix, the old lady two floors down playing her morning radio show, and even the neighbor’s cat meowing at all hours. But from his apartment? Nothing.

For someone wearing giant headphones in his head, he doesn’t listen to music out loud. No TV. No footsteps. Not even the faint sound of weights being dropped or a shower running. He’d walk in after his jog, close the door, and vanish.

Sometimes, late at night, when I passed his door on the way to throw out trash, I’d pause and listen. Still nothing. The silence was almost unnatural — heavy, deliberate, as if the space itself stopped existing once he was inside.

It gave me chills sometimes. But again, I told myself it wasn’t my business. Everyone’s got their own life. Maybe he just liked privacy. Maybe he worked night shifts or meditated or something.

Whatever it was, I decided not to care. Even if something about him didn’t add up. Even if every coincidence made my stomach tighten a little more each day.

Because, really — who was I to question my quiet, perfectly strange neighbor?

==============================================

By the second week, I had completely fallen into the unemployed routine. Wake up late, check emails that never came, scroll through job sites, and eventually end up tinkering with my old projects to keep my brain from melting.

One of those projects was something I’d started during my last year in university — a compact signal hijacker I called Specter. It was supposed to be a proof of concept, a device that could connect to any signal — Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, radio — and manipulate it while keeping the user completely invisible.

If it worked the way I designed it, Specter wouldn’t just let me listen or read signals. It would give me control over them. Every packet of data would route through my encryption shell, a design so unique that any attempt to decode it would essentially destroy the machine trying to do so. At least, that was the theory.

Maybe, I thought, if I could refine it and sell the patent, I might actually make something of myself.

That afternoon, I decided to test it again. I connected Specter to my phone as a proxy, powered it up, and watched as the screen flooded with nearby connections.

There were dozens. Neighbors’ Wi-Fi, smart TVs, speakers, even refrigerators and washing machines. I could tap into any of them with a few swipes.

But one thing stood out.

A connection named NACN_T331 kept appearing and disappearing from the list — flashing in and out like it was there one second and gone the next.

It wasn’t a regular network. The frequency range was strange. The signal wasn’t stable, almost as if it was moving.

“Huh,” I muttered, leaning closer. “What are you?”

Curiosity got the better of me. I locked onto it and ordered Specter to start decrypting.

Immediately, the device began to heat up. Lines of code ran across the screen as it tried to latch onto the shifting signal. It was like wrestling smoke — the more I grabbed, the more it slipped away.

“Come on… you’ve cracked encrypted routers before, this should be easy,” I whispered.

The minutes stretched on. The air smelled faintly of warm plastic as Specter’s casing grew hot. My phone flashed warnings I’d never seen before — CPU overload, thermal protection active — but I didn’t stop. I was too deep into it now.

Then, finally, the connection locked.

I sat back, grinning. “Ha! Got you!”

That’s when I heard it.

THUD.

A loud, heavy sound came from next door. My grin froze.

“Uh…” I waited. Silence followed. Then another faint noise, like something collapsing.

Panic replaced the rush of excitement. I threw on a hoodie, grabbed my phone, and rushed out into the hallway.

I knocked hard on my neighbor’s door. “Hey! You okay in there?”

No answer.

“Hello? I heard something fall!” I called again, knocking faster. “I’m sorry if I’m overreacting, but it sounded bad—”

Still nothing.

I hesitated, then tried the doorknob. It turned easily. Unlocked.

“Okay, weird…” I muttered, pushing the door open carefully. “Uh, I’m coming in, alright? Just checking if you’re fine.”

The moment I stepped inside, I froze.

The apartment was… empty. Barely even furnished. No couch, no TV, no shelves, nothing. Just plain walls and a single cabinet shoved into a corner. The floor was scattered with a few things — a cracked phone, a pair of large headphones, and some loose wires that looked like they’d been ripped out of something.

And there he was.

My neighbor.

Lying on the floor.

Face blank, eyes half-open, body twitching in small, erratic spasms.

“Hey—hey! Are you okay?” I rushed over, kneeling beside him. His skin looked pale, and his breathing—well, I wasn’t sure it even was breathing.

He mumbled something faintly.

“...error…”

My blood ran cold. “What?”

“Error… error… error…”

He repeated it, like a broken recording.

I leaned closer. “What are you saying? What happened to you?”

Then his head jerked slightly, and for the first time, his eyes focused — not on me, but on the empty wall in front of him.

In a flat, robotic tone, he said, “Network database compromised. Source unidentified. Current unit integrity: failed. Commencing full reformat.”

I just stared at him, completely lost. “Reformat? What—what are you talking about?!”

His pupils flickered unnaturally, and his voice repeated, slower this time: “This unit will be wiped clean.”

I stumbled back, confusion twisting into realization.

That strange network… NACN_T331. That was him. The signal had been coming from him.

And my device — my encryption — it must have overwhelmed whatever system was controlling him. The feedback loop would have fried anything trying to trace or fight it. Which meant whoever was behind this, whoever owned this so-called “unit,” couldn’t recover it.

So they did the only thing they could. They erased him.

Leaving behind this — a blank, motionless shell of a man, twitching on the floor where my neighbor used to be.

I stood there, speechless, heart pounding, my own invention still humming faintly in my pocket.

“What the hell did I just do?” I whispered. 

I looked at the ‘unit’ in front of me, wondering what will happen next. A few minutes, go by, nothing. The puppet strings of this “man” is truly been severed. 

“Well, we have to do what we get to do, right?” I smirked as I fiddled with my phone and gadget. Regardless of what he was and what this ‘thing’ originates from, it's now mine to keep, and I’d gladly take this junk of a hunk under my wing. Using the already compromised network emitting from this man, I can hack through his systems, replace the erased data, and rebuild everything that will shape this hunk of a man into my liking!

“Let’s see what can I do with you!”

==============================================================

A month later, the apartment had become almost unrecognizable. Where it was once empty and quiet, it now felt lived-in — clothes tossed over the couch, a few dumbbells stacked in the corner, two mugs sitting side by side on the counter. The faint scent of detergent mixed with protein powder hung in the air.

The front door clicked open.

“Yo, I’m back!”

The familiar voice echoed through the small space before Jin appeared in the doorway, fresh from the building’s gym. His tank top clung to him, soaked in sweat, his skin glistening under the ceiling light. His expression, however, was bright and cheerful — a warm, genuine smile as if he were coming home from a long day to his favorite person.

“Hey, you’re early,” I said from the couch, where I was hunched over my laptop.

“Leg day, bro. Gotta cut it short before I start walking like a duck again,” Jin replied with a grin, dropping his gym bag by the door. He ran a towel over his neck, then stepped closer, peering at my screen. “Still working on your nerd stuff?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, some of us use our brains instead of our biceps.”

He snorted. “Jealous much?”

I laughed, “In your dreams, musclehead.”

Jin chuckled, tossing the towel aside as he flopped down next to me on the couch. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that this same man was once lying lifeless on his apartment floor just a month ago. Now, he was everything I had designed him to be; confident, outgoing, charismatic, playful, the kind of extroverted personality that used to intimidate me.

“Well,” I said, leaning back, “looks like the new behavior module’s working.”

Jin raised an eyebrow. “You’re talking like I’m one of your gadgets again.”

I smirked. “Technically, you are. But don’t take it personally — I just modeled your personality based on what I thought you’d be like if you were… human. Y’know, cool, outgoing, a little frat-boy-ish. Like the version of you everyone expects to meet at a gym.”

He laughed softly, flexing his arm. “So basically perfect?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, waving him off. “Perfectly annoying.”

That made him grin wider. “Admit it, though~ I’m your favorite creation, right?”

“Maybe.”

He leaned closer, bumping my shoulder playfully. “Not maybe. Definitely.”

I couldn’t help but smile. The banter felt easy now, natural, like we’d been friends for years instead of just a few weeks. We talked about everything and nothing: dumb gym stories, memes, jokes about my nonexistent social life. Jin loved teasing me, and I didn’t mind it; it filled a silence that I hadn’t realized was eating away at me. Though, Somewhere between laughter and small talk, though, something shifted.

Jin stood, stretching, his muscles tightening and relaxing as he pulled his damp tank top over his head. Then, with a mischievous grin, he turned toward me, dangling the sweaty fabric from his fingers.

“Catch,” he said. but instead of throwing it, he stepped forward and brushed it against my face and neck, dragging it playfully across my skin.

“Jin—ugh! Come on!” I sputtered, pushing him away, but he only laughed and leaned in closer.

“What? I’m just sharing the gym experience,” he said teasingly, his tone dipping lower, softer.

His demeanor changed almost imperceptibly — less teasing, more affectionate. He crouched slightly, meeting my eyes. “You know… I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but I like being here. With you.”

The joking atmosphere turned warm, intimate. His hand rested on my shoulder, firm but gentle. “You made me, right? So I guess it makes sense that you’d be the center of my world.”

My throat went dry. “Heh heh… yeah~ but Jin, that’s… a little much.” I cough, “ a bit cheesy too…”

He didn’t stop. His expression softened into something almost tender, though still threaded with that exaggerated bravado I’d programmed in him. “But I really do mean it. You’re everything I need.”

Before I could react, he moved closer, wrapping one arm around me and pulling me into him. My head pressed against his torso, his abs firm and unyielding against my face. “D-Dude, I like this but, seriously—let go!” I laughed, half embarrassed, half stunned.

Instead, he tightened his hold, his voice dripping with affection. “Nope. You’re not going anywhere, bro.”

I could feel the faint vibration in his chest when he spoke. “You wanted me to be loving, right? Guess I overachieved a little.”

I groaned, trying to wriggle free. “You think?! You’re suffocating me, you oversized golden retriever!”

He only chuckled, resting his chin on top of my head like he was perfectly content to trap me there.

That’s when I realized I’d definitely overprogrammed the “romantic attachment” variable.

“Alright,” I said loudly, patting his arm. “Time to chill, lover boy. System—”

He froze immediately, the muscles around me locking in place like cooled steel. His eyes went blank, his expression neutral.

I exhaled. “—Suspend Command: Solstice Mode.”

That was the name I’d given his system freeze function. It sounded more poetic than just shouting pause program.

Stepping back, I grabbed my phone from the coffee table and opened the control interface. The hijacking device had evolved since the first incident — sleeker, faster, with deeper access to Jin’s neural systems. I connected to his signal and began typing commands as I flip Jin's body upright.

Lines of data scrolled across the screen as I rewrote parameters, adjusted emotional thresholds, tweaked behavioral directives. His body reacted slightly to each new input — his shoulders flexed, his chest rose, his head tilted just a fraction.

“Wow,” I said quietly, watching him. “You really are something else.”

A faint electrical pulse ran through him, visible in the small contractions along his arms. He looked like a perfectly sculpted statue brought to life mid-motion.

“Alright, let’s see…” I muttered, typing. “Dial back the clinginess, increase self-restraint, keep the affection… but make it less smothering.”

As I finished entering the new code, Jin’s body flexed involuntarily — a sudden, powerful motion that made me laugh despite myself.

“Woah, damn! What an extra way to reboot,” I said, shaking my head. I reached out, tapping his shoulder lightly. “Guess you’re still learning how to chill, huh?”

His eyes blinked once, life flickering back into them.

“System reconfiguration complete,” he said automatically, then smiled, the warmth returning.

I grinned, setting my phone aside. “Heh. I guess we’ve still got a long way to go.”

He tilted his head. “That a bad thing?”

“Not at all,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Not at all.”

Chapter 1

The Miami sun felt different on this new skin. Toralf—or the man he was wearing—strutted down Ocean Drive, the late afternoon heat a warm hand on the broad, sculpted shoulders of the muscle suit. He felt the heat extremely intense under the artificial skin and the handsome mask. He was already sweating. His own grey chest, pale and slightly soft, was a distant memory beneath the silicone perfection. Every glance from a passing guy, every lingering look from a patio table, was a shot of pure, addictive adrenaline. This is what it feels like to be seen. He adjusted the straps of the thin, white tank top he’d borrowed from his friend’s closet, the fabric straining over the impossible chest. His dark curls and his dark stubbles felt incredibly, when he touched his masked head. But now he had to escape the sun.

The bell over the door of the boutique grocery store jingled. Inside, the air was cool, smelling of expensive coffee and kale. He moved with a confidence that wasn’t his, reaching for a bottle of cold-pressed juice. That’s when he saw Kevin.

Kevin was maybe twenty-five, blond hair swept back from a tanned, open face. He wore tight, faded jeans and a simple black tee that hugged a lean, swimmer’s build. He was studying a package of gourmet cookies. Toralf felt a familiar, old-man flutter in his real stomach, but the suit’s unyielding torso gave nothing away. He cleared his throat.

“Tough choice, huh?” His voice, through the confidence of the disguise, came out smoother, more confident.

Kevin looked up, and his blue eyes widened slightly. A slow, appreciative smile spread across his face. It was the smile Toralf had been hunting for all week. “The sea salt caramel ones are lethal,” Kevin said, his voice a warm, easy baritone. “I’m Kevin.”

“Leo,” Toralf lied, the name tumbling out. A name for the body.

Their fingers brushed as Kevin handed him the cookie package to inspect. The touch sent a jolt through Toralf’s real skin, insulated beneath layers of lube and silicone. They talked. About nothing. About the heat, about a new bar. The conversation was light, but the current underneath was anything but. Kevin’s gaze kept dropping to Toralf’s—to Leo’s—arms, the defined pectorals visible through the tank.

“You live around here?” Kevin asked, leaning casually against the freezer door.

“Just house-sitting for a friend,” Toralf said. “Place on Biscayne. He’s in Europe.”

Kevin’s smile turned sly. “Nice. I’m just a few blocks over. In a shoebox.” He paused, letting the hum of the freezers fill the space. “You know, I was just about to head back. I could use some help carrying this six-pack.”

The invitation was as clear as the Miami sky. Toralf’s heart hammered. This was it. The test. Could he? In the borrowed skin, in the borrowed life… yes.

“Lead the way,” he said, his playful voice steady.

Kevin’s apartment was a shoebox, but a stylish one. The door hadn’t even clicked shut before Kevin was on him. One hand cupped the back of Toralf’s fake neck, the other slid around the hard waist of the muscle suit. Their mouths met, and the kiss was all heat and hunger. Kevin tasted like mint and ambition. Toralf groaned into it, the sound muffled by the other man’s lips. The sensation of pressure, of wetness was overwhelming.

Kevin pulled back, breathless, his eyes dark. “Fuck, you’re built,” he muttered, his hands roaming over the rigid chest, squeezing the biceps. He tugged at the tank top. “Off. I want to see.”

Panic, cold and sharp, pierced the haze of desire. The suit. The lube. The seams. But Kevin was already pulling the fabric up. Toralf lifted his arms, helping, the movement a little stiff. The tank came off. Kevin just stared, a low whistle escaping him. He leaned in, licked a slow stripe over a perfect, fake nipple. Toralf felt the vibration, the suction, a bizarre and thrilling echo through the suit’s material to his own sensitive flesh beneath.

“Bedroom,” Kevin panted, stepping back and pulling his own shirt off in one fluid motion.

In the dim light of the bedroom, Kevin was a vision of youthful beauty. Toralf watched, mesmerized, as Kevin stripped, his cock already hard and eager. He pushed Toralf back onto the mattress. The suit was restrictive, awkward for lying down, but Kevin didn’t seem to notice. He kissed his way down the defined abdomen, his hands sliding under the waistband of Toralf’s shorts.

This is the moment. The shorts and underwear were the only things covering the suit’s lower half, the only barrier to the complicated junction where the silicone of the upper body and lower body met and Toralf’s real body could be visible. Kevin yanked them down in one fierce motion.

This move revealed Toralf’s own erection, which was trapped in a specially designed false cock at the front of the lower part of the suit, the real skin aching against the soft, internal lining. The suit’s false cock was impressive and sculpted slightly curved upwards. Kevin froze for a second, staring at the setup.

Toralf held his breath.

But Kevin just let out a rough, turned-on laugh. “Hot,” he breathed, and then he took Toralf’s false cock into his mouth.

The sensation was explosive. It had been years since anyone’s mouth had felt this good, this eager, this young. Kevin’s tongue swirled around the head, his lips created a perfect, tight seal as he sank down. The false cock intensified the sensation even more.Toralf cried out, his back arching, his hands fisting in the sheets. The contrast was maddening—the visual of this beautiful man servicing a body that was a masterpiece, while the frantic, exquisite pleasure was entirely his own, hidden and primal.

“Kevin… fuck…” he choked out.

Kevin pulled off with a wet pop, his own need clear. He grabbed lube from the nightstand, lubricating himself quickly. “Want you,” he said, his voice raw. He pushed Toralf’s legs up, his fingers slick and cool as they pressed against Toralf’s real entrance through a small hole in the suit. “Ready?“

“Yes. God, yes.”

The preparation was fast, almost frantic, a blur of burning stretch and desperate need. Then Kevin was pushing in, and the world narrowed to that single, searing point of connection. Kevin’s thrusts were deep, powerful, driving Toralf’s fake body up the bed with their force. Each slam sent shockwaves through him. He could see the sweat-slicked muscles of Kevin working, could feel the hot puff of Kevin’s breath.

Toralf wrapped his legs around Kevin, the suit’s thighs straining. He was lost. In the pleasure, in the deception, in the sheer physicality of it. He reached between them, fisting his own cock, the slide made easy by his own precum and the leftover lube from the suit’s application. The dual sensations—the deep, rhythmic filling and the tight, frantic friction of his own hand—coiled a spring in his gut.

Kevin’s pace became erratic, his grunts louder. “So fuckin’ tight… that suit… seeing you like this…” he babbled, his hips stuttering.

The words, the raw approval, tipped Toralf over the edge. His orgasm ripped through him, a silent, convulsing wave that made his real body shake violently inside its silicone shell. His come striped up over his hand, out of a small hole at the tip of the false cock splashing onto the hard, false abdomen of the suit. The clenching of his own muscles around Kevin’s thrusting cock was the trigger. Kevin shouted, burying himself deep, his body rigid as he pulsed inside Toralf.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of ragged breathing. Kevin collapsed on top of him, a heavy, sweaty weight on the unyielding chest. He nuzzled into the fake neck. “Damn, Leo,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You are… unreal.”

Toralf stared at the ceiling, feeling the warm trickle inside him, the sticky mess on his stomach. The mask felt suddenly heavy, suffocating. The thrill was still there, buzzing under his skin, but so was something else. Something cold.

Kevin shifted, propping himself up on an elbow. He traced a finger through the come on Toralf’s—on Leo’s—stomach, a lazy, possessive smile on his face. “So,” he said, his eyes bright and curious. “So where did you get this suit? It’s incredible.” His finger strayed higher, towards the seam where the mask met the neck of the muscle suit, hidden in the shadows. “I mean… how does this even come off?”

Kevin’s finger traced the seam at Toralf’s neck, the touch light and inquisitive. Toralf held his breath, the post-orgasm bliss instantly replaced by a cold, trickling dread.

“It’s… complicated, I found it in the wardrobe of my friend and it’s hard to take it off,” Toralf rasped, his voice still Leo’s, but strained.

Kevin’s gaze was fixed on his own finger’s path. He leaned closer, his nose almost brushing Toralf’s throat. “Is it?” he murmured. Then he went still. “Wait.”

Toralf felt it too. A bead of moisture, warm and slick, tracing a path from under the edge of the mask, just behind his ear. His own sweat, trapped for hours, had finally found an escape route. It glistened in the low light.

Kevin pulled back just enough to look. His eyes, dark with satiation a moment ago, now sparked with sharp, electric curiosity. He watched as another droplet welled and ran down the side of Toralf’s silicone neck.

“You’re sweating like hell,” Kevin stated, his voice low. “Underneath.”

Before Toralf could form an answer, Kevin leaned in again. But not to kiss. He licked. A slow, deliberate swipe of his tongue up that salty trail, from collarbone to jawline. The sensation was a bizarre duality—the pressure of the tongue on the mask, and the intimate, wet heat that seemed to seep through to Toralf’s own clammy skin.

“Tastes real,” Kevin breathed against his skin. His hands came up, framing Toralf’s face. His thumbs pressed against the neckline of the mask, just below the ears. “How real is it, Leo?”

Toralf’s heart was a frantic drum against the suit’s rigid interior. “Kevin, don’t—”

It was too late. Kevin’s fingers found purchase. He didn’t yank, not at first. He pulled, steady and insistent, peeling the silicone away from the skin beneath. There was a resistance, a suction, and then a soft, wet schlurp as the seal broke.

Cool air hit Toralf’s real face—his fifty-five-year-old face, damp with sweat, his hair a mess. The world seemed to tilt. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch Kevin’s reaction.

The sound Kevin made wasn’t disgust. It was a sharp, sucked-in breath. A pause that stretched for an eternity. Toralf forced his eyes open.

Kevin was staring. His blue eyes were wide, scanning the lines around Toralf’s eyes, the silver stubble on his jaw, the softer, more lived-in texture of his skin. There was no horror. No anger. A slow, incredulous smile began to curl Kevin’s lips.

“Well, hello,” Kevin whispered, his voice full of awe. “Who are you, really?”

“Toralf,” he choked out, the name sounding foreign and small.

Kevin’s smile widened. It was predatory, delighted. “Toralf.” He said it like he was tasting it. He leaned down and kissed him—not Leo, but Toralf. The kiss was different. Softer, at first, then deeper, more probing. Kevin’s tongue slipped into his mouth, and it felt more intimate than anything they’d done before. He was kissing the truth.

When he pulled back, his eyes were blazing. “You fucking genius,” Kevin laughed, a rough, excited sound. “All this time… this incredible body…” His hands slid down from Toralf’s real shoulders to the hard, sculpted pectorals of the suit. “I want to see. All of it. Now.”

He pushed himself off the bed, standing tall and naked, his own arousal visibly stirring again. He pointed to the center of the room. “Get up. Show me. A striptease, daddy. Show me what’s underneath this masterpiece. Inch by inch.”

Humiliation warred with a shocking, desperate arousal. The command, the use of daddy, sent a jolt straight to Toralf’s spent cock, which twitched against the suit. The thrill of being seen, even like this, was a drug he couldn’t refuse. He swung his legs off the bed, the movement awkward in the restrictive suit.

He stood, facing Kevin. The younger man crossed his arms, a king awaiting a performance.

Toralf’s hands trembled as he reached for the neck of the muscle suit and pulled to get one arm free inside the torso. It was hard work to get it free. He peeled the torso up and slipped his head through the head opening.

The hard, perfect chest came finally free with lots of sweat pouring down on the wooden floor. Beneath it was the reality: Toralf’s own torso, pale, sprinkled with grey hair, the skin slightly loose, the muscles much less defined. He heard Kevin’s sharp inhale. He continued, putting the torso of the suit on the bed like discarding a second skin and started peeling away the lower part revealing the soft curve of his stomach, the natural dip of his navel. The contrast was obscene. The suit’s rigid, oiled perfection lay flat on the bed, showing his vulnerable, older body.

“Keep going,” Kevin urged, his voice husky.

Toralf pushed the suit down over his hips. It was harder here, the lube having dried. He had to shimmy, the material clinging. He bent, pushing it down his thighs, past his knees, revealing his own legs—thinner, with faint varicose veins, covered in silver hair. Finally, he stepped out of it, kicking the empty, deflated silicone shell aside. He stood there, completely exposed, breathless, his real cock half-hard and glistening with sweat and leftover lube.

Kevin stared, his gaze a physical caress. “Fuck,” he breathed. “This was so sexy.”

He stepped forward, closing the distance. He didn’t touch Toralf’s body. Instead, he knelt and picked up the discarded muscle suit. It lay in his hands, a limp, hollow mannequin. He looked from it to Toralf, a wild idea lighting up his face.

“My turn,” Kevin said.

He grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand, squeezing a generous amount into the chest cavity of the suit. More, inside the lower part. He slicked the interior until it gleamed. Then, with a focused intensity, he stepped into it.

Toralf watched, mesmerized, as Kevin—young, tan, lean—began to fill the shell he had just vacated. Kevin worked his legs into the silicone thighs, his real skin sliding against the wet, slippery interior with soft, slick sounds. He lifted the torso up, wrestling his arms into the sleeves, then pulled the torso over his head. The slurping sound was intense.

He pulled the torso down und stood up. And it was Leo standing there. But different. The suit fit him perfectly, the muscles appearing even more defined on his slimmer frame. The mask lay on the bed. Kevin picked it up, looked at Toralf with a wicked grin, and began to work it over his own head. It was a struggle, a wet, noisy process of stretching and pulling. Toralf could only watch, his own arousal now full and aching.

With a final, wet pop, the mask sealed into place. Kevin—now Leo—ran his hands over the hard chest, down the carved abs. He turned to the mirror on the closet door, tilting his head, flexing. He let out a low, distorted laugh from within the mask.

Then he turned back to Toralf. He stalked towards him, the movement carrying Leo’s confident swagger but charged with Kevin’s frenetic energy. He pushed Toralf, making him stumble back until his legs hit the bed and he sat down hard.

The young man in the rubbery suit loomed over him. He put a hand on Toralf’s chest, over his real heart, and pushed him down onto his back.

“You liked getting fucked inside this body, didn’t you?” Kevin’s voice came through the mask, muffled but clear. He climbed onto the bed, straddling Toralf’s hips, the hard, false cock of the suit brushing against Toralf’s very real, very hard one. “Now you’re going to fuck me in it.”

He reached behind himself, his fingers, slick from the suit’s interior, finding Toralf’s erection. He guided him to the suit’s rear access hole—a discreet opening Toralf knew very well. Kevin positioned the tip there, the silicone rim already lubed from within.

“Take him,” Kevin commanded, his voice a guttural rasp. “Take him. Fuck Leo. I want to feel you in here with me.”

Toralf’s mind shattered. The psychology, the role-reversal, the raw, perverse thrill of it consumed him. He gripped Kevin’s—Leo’s—hard, silicone hips. He pushed up.

Curious about what's happened to Ethan and what's coming next? Check out the master post here!

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

The stockings hang high next to Santa’s little chute, But things always feel snug when wearing a tight suit.

When Benjamin had asked the rest of the friend group to accompany him out to the club for his birthday, everyone had agreed to a night out. It was a good way of celebrating the end of the semester, and it wasn't often that the other man had asked to go out. Benjamin was the notorious introvert and homebody of the group, usually saying no to going out or leaving early so he could head back home. So when he suggested going out for his celebrations, it was a significant deal to everyone else.

And so, Ethan found himself in the middle of a thumping club, with loud music blasting in his ears and the heavy bass sending vibrations through his body. The rest of their friends were off in the middle of the dance floor, tearing up the scene as they were busy having the night of their lives. But Benjamin had asked Ethan if he could accompany him in getting a drink, and the two hovered on the side at the bar, watching the night unfold.

"How's the night going? Having fun with your birthday?" he asked Benjamin, leaning over to yell in his friend's ear over the loud music. The introvert nodded slowly, a small smile lingering on his lips as his eyes scanned around the room. If Ethan didn't know any better, he could have guessed that Benjamin was having second thoughts about going out, already thinking of a way for him to head home early.

"Ah, ah, none of those thoughts," Ethan teased as he nudged the other's shoulders. "I can practically see what you're thinking. Here. Take a shot with me, and I'll have you pick out the hottest dancer around here. Maybe we can see if they'll give you some special attention for your birthday," he hummed as he turned around to accept his order for two shots of vodka from the bartender. Handing it over to the birthday boy, he nodded his head out towards the crowd. "Alright, so who's the best looking to you?"

Situated throughout the space were small, elevated platforms, adorned with glowing RGB lights that pulsed in time to the music. Each platform had a stripper pole that rose up to the building and just enough space for the dancers to wriggle their hips and gyrate in the space. There were several shirtless, sweaty, and practically naked male dancers, each one moving their body around in a way that invited the club's patrons to stuff their skimpy thongs with dollar bills. The bodies were close enough for people to grope and squeeze as they liked, although the dancers could gently move away if it ever became too much for them. Still, they were the main feature of the place, as most people had their sights locked on the dancers as they stripped down to less and less clothing.

Ethan watched as Benjamin's eyes shifted towards one of the dancers close to the main stage, and he could see why. The other man moved like he was the star of the place, the crown jewel that made everyone beg for a taste. Ethan grinned at his friend's choice, only wiggling his brows as he reached down to grab his hand. "Well, don't just stand there then! I bet he's waiting to thrust his hips against a cutie like you!" he yelled, pulling Benjamin along from the bar towards the dancer, who was busy giving an overeager patron a very public lap dance.

Weaving in and out of the crowd, Ethan had managed to bring them right up to the side of the platform, staring down at the dancer until he noticed them. Fishing out a wad of dollar bills from his wallet, he placed them in the birthday boy's hand and gently nudged him forward. Gesturing towards the stripper, he grinned as he pointed at Benjamin. "It's his birthday tonight! He thinks you're the hottest one in here!"

The dancer glanced at the introvert, now clutching the money tightly out of sheer shyness. To his credit, Benjamin didn't pull away and seemed willing to have some more fun with the dancer if he could relax for a bit. Grinning at the new cutie, the dancer practically tugged Benjamin up onto the platform with him, letting him take a seat where the other patron had previously been sitting just a few moments ago. "Just have fun with me tonight! I promise I'll make it worth your time!"

Pleased with the turn of events, Ethan whooped and hollered as his introverted friend had the dance of a lifetime. Pulling out his phone, he casually flicked past his apps, unwittingly scrolling past the Advent calendar and tapping his daily notice to get to his camera app. Ethan planned on filming it all so he could show the rest of their friends what they had been up to. That, or just for Benjamin to keep for his private records afterwards. His brows raised in surprise as he saw the dancer finish up on his friend, only to lean in close and whisper something into Benjamin's ear that caused the introvert to blush furiously in response.

"What'd he say to you?" Ethan asked as Benjamin had rejoined him by his side, the two of them slipping away back into the crowd to grab some more drinks.

"For me to meet him in the back in ten! It's when he's off stage. He wants to give me a more private show!" Benjamin yelled back over the din of the club, the giddiness and sheer excitement evident in his voice.

Ethan could only whoop and holler some more, slapping his friend on the back out of excitement for him. Benjamin, for the most part, seemed just as pleased. However, he had cautiously asked for Ethan to accompany him when he did go back there, on the off chance that the dancer changed his mind and Benjamin could avoid wallowing in his embarrassment all on his lonesome.

At the given time, the two of them began making their way towards the back, slipping past the bouncers until they made their way towards the dancer's private rooms. Ethan followed along after his friend, amused at the way Benjamin seemed to walk with a renewed purpose. Stopping in front of a door with the name "Benny" in front, the grad student couldn't help but snort in mild amusement. Of course, Benjamin found the one dancer who had practically the same name as him. But he didn't say anything, only flanking the other's side as the birthday boy knocked on the door carefully.

To both of their surprise, the door pushed in, showing the waiting dancer sitting at a makeup vanity desk with his back towards them. Benjamin called out to him inquisitively, although his question received no response. Tilting his head towards the dancer for his friend to approach, Ethan followed after him into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He had only just turned around to see his friend lightly tapping the other man's bare shoulder, as if to stir him awake. But he hadn't expected seeing the stripper deflate like a balloon being let of all air.

The trim and fit body, glinting with a mixture of glitter and sweat, erupted with a long burp of air billowing out of the dancer's mouth. It was like a wet, elongated fart, spilling out of the deflating body until all that was left was a thin and muscular strip of skin. Ethan gawked at the sight, stumbling deeper into the room to examine the… strange occurrence.

"What did you do?!"

"I didn't do anything! I just tried to see if he was awake or alive, and then he just– he just–!"

"Oh my god, oh my god! No one just deflates like that! What the fuck?!"

There was a clear sense of panic, a frenzy that seemed to overtake the room as Ethan fumbled with his phone, pulling it out nervously as he debated calling for the police. Did he even call the police? Would they consider them murderers? But what could even do that? There was no way either of them had anything on them that could cause a human being to deflate. He flicked open his lock screen, only to see the calendar app already primed and ready. The rhyming couplet seemed to stare back at him, as if taunting him about the turn of events.

His trance was cut off by Benjamin's soft voice, which cut through, a straightforward question adding to the immense confusion already taking place in the room.

"Do you… Do you think I could wear him?"

What. "What?"

But Benjamin's gaze was fixated on the dancer's mouth, a new glint in his eyes as he began examining the stretchy skin. "I… I heard of things like this. Like suits, you know? That just fits over you. I thought there'd be a zipper or something, but…" To prove his point, his fingers wrapped around the inside of the stripper's mouth, and he pulled.

Ethan gasped as he watched the deflated body stretch and extend to the point where it was clearly unnatural for anyone's mouth to move in that way. To Benjamin's point, the other's skin did seem more like a suit with how rubbery and elastic it extended. And while he wanted to tell his friend to stop so that they could go get help, Ethan couldn't help but watch in mild horror and macabre fascination as his friend began to step inside the stretched hole.

Bit by bit, the introvert's body was swallowed up by the stripper's extended hole of a mouth. In some ways, it was no different than putting on one of those inflatable Halloween costumes or a mascot costume. But it was disconcertingly human-like in this suit. Benjamin grunted as he wriggled into the suit, gasping as the skin clung to his own body. While the dancer had a tall, muscular frame, the skinsuit was clinging to every bit of him as he made his way in. Benjamin stared back at Ethan, with all that was left being the dancer's head wrapping over his own. With a soft, shaky breath, Benjamin gasped as he pulled over the last bit.

Ethan was greeted by the sight of the dancer standing in the place where his friend had been. The taller man was in the middle of exploring his body, tugging up his shirt as he groped and squeezed at his muscles. The sensual dancer moaned with each squeeze, his body trembling at the mere touch as he played with himself. It wasn't until he opened his eyes and saw Ethan staring back at him that the stripper stopped mid-exploration, leaving those perfect abs on full display for his friend to ogle at.

"Sorry, he just… feels so sensitive against my skin. It's like this body is mine or something. I didn't think that would actually work," Benny murmured breathlessly as he let his fingers slide down over his nipples and trace down the V-line just above the waistline of his tight shorts. "It's like he's primed to be touched… It's so hard to even think straight when all I want to feel is people putting their hands all over my body and rubbing every last bit of his muscles…"

Glancing away from the more sexual and lewd display his friend was putting on, Ethan huffed as he stepped closer to him. There was such a cocky and confident expression that lingered on Benny's face, as if the other man knew that he was hot stuff and could get people to do whatever he asked. Ethan's hands darted out before he even realized it, letting them grope and squeeze at the other's flexed biceps. "It… It feels like it's you…" He gasped in amazement. There were no gaps or pockets of air from what he could feel. It was as if Benjamin had never existed, or was at least swallowed up in the entirety of Benny. Whatever hard-earned muscles the dancer had before certainly felt the same as what Ethan was squeezing at now. There was no way of knowing that this was a suit, much less that his former homebody friend was buried underneath that taut skin.

Moaning as he felt Ethan's fingers poke and prod at his body, Benny shuddered as he threw his arms behind his head. He assumed a natural bodybuilding pose, allowing his muscles to flex as he contorted into the most comical expression he could manage. "Fuck man, I could do anything in this body. I can pretend to be the dumbest dude out there, and guys would still fall to their feet begging for me to let them worship me," he groaned as a strand of drool spilled out the corner of his mouth. Benny grinned at the stupid, himbo-like expression he was making, letting the light dim from his eyes as he appeared more empty-headed. "Ain't nothing going on in here now except for all the cocks I'm gonna suck tonight. I bet this mouth has been trained to fit in all sorts of sizes; you saw how greedy Benny was swallowing me up. He was practically begging me to take over and wear his skin. Show everyone just how slutty he can really be when I'm in control."

Watching as his friend took control of the dancer's body, Ethan whimpered as Benny leaned in to seal their lips together in a firm and passionate kiss. He could feel the dancer's wet tongue slipping down his mouth, any moans and whimpers swallowed up in the messy make-out session between the two of them. Benny wrapped his arms around the smaller man, keeping Ethan pressed up against his bare chest. It wasn't until they had to break for air that the dancer finally pulled away, only staring down at Ethan with a smirk on his lips. That teasing tongue slipped out once more, making a show of licking up any stray droplets of saliva.

"Delicious… Just for you, I want to put on a little show… You'll let me do that, right? As a thank you for staying with me all night and making sure I was comfortable. And for letting me celebrate my birthday the way I wanted to," Benny purred as he carefully pushed Ethan back until he was stumbling back into a chair behind him. The young man sat down without a word, only staring up with wide eyes as his friend stepped away to begin his little private show.

Benny's movements were slow and sensual, in stark contrast to the fast-paced, thumping music just outside the door. With his friend wearing the dancer's bodysuit, Ethan watched as Benny ground his hips along the floor at a slow and careful pace. It was wildly intoxicating watching the other man move, and the stripper seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. Crawling towards Ethan on all fours, Benny didn't stop until his head was resting against the inside of the younger man's thighs. His tongue was slipping out once more, letting some drool fall as he pressed his nose up against Ethan's crotch. "Fuck… You smell so good here… You want to give me a taste of this, big boy? I wouldn't even mind riding it until the morning. This hole feels so empty without you," Benny whined as his nose prodded at the younger man's bulge.

The two of them were suddenly interrupted by the door opening, and a large, burly man eyed them with a rather impassive face. Whether he registered the pure look of surprise on either of their faces. The stranger didn't say. The bouncer didn't even seem bothered at the sight of the dancer crawling on the ground with his head clearly positioned for a more sexual act in mind. Instead, he glanced over at Benny, jerking his thumb towards the hallway behind him. 

"You're back on in five. You're closing out the night, remember? And put on something a little more show-stopping. The boss wants you to turn heads and catch eyes before you take it all off."

And without waiting for any recognition or response, the man left as quickly as he came, already moving to the next couple of rooms to inform the other dancers the same thing.

Ethan let out a shaky breath of relief that he didn't realize he was holding, only to look over at his friend shuffling through the duffel bag of outfits on the table next to where they had initially found the suit. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for something to wear! You heard them; I gotta wear something flashy to make everyone look at me," Benny said as he began pulling out some outfits. Unbothered if Ethan was watching him or not, the dancer began to dress himself in the middle of the room.

"But you don't work here!" Ethan protested, his brows glancing towards the door nervously in case the other man returned on them once more.

Benny hummed as he finished deciding on two outfits, swapping between the two to show them off for his friend in a slow, model-like turn. The dancer, to his credit, was enjoying the little display, savoring the way his skimpily dressed body showed off all the new muscles and curves to his enticing frame. “Ah, c’mon. It's just for one night. Besides, you've seen what I can do in this body. I don't think I'll have any trouble dancing on stage. Now, which outfit do you think looks better on me?"

Ethan sighed softly as he looked over the dancer's choices, knowing that once Benny had committed to doing something, there was no way anyone could talk him out of it. And if Benny wanted to have some fun dancing on stage in a body that wasn't his, who was he to refuse his friend that fun? "I think the first one could be pretty hot. I'm sure plenty of guys out tonight would have fantasies about a cowboy giving them lap dances or stripping on them," he hummed after careful consideration.

The dancer's eyes sparkled with delight, pleased with Ethan's decision. Benny quickly dressed himself in the suggested attire, testing it out only slightly with a simple sway of the hips and a roll of his body. "Yeah… oh, I like this. I can see myself dancing on people in a fit like this," he purred lowly, tugging his shorts down just a bit to flash the tight band of his thong. "Alright, I think I'm all set, cutie. Thanks for coming back here with me. I think I got my birthday wish granted this year, although it wasn't exactly the way I had imagined it."

Tilting his head as he looked at his friend curiously, Ethan couldn't stop himself as he asked, "What sort of wish did you have in mind?"

Benny's eyes glimmered with a hint of delightful glee now that he had asked, and the dancer only closed the distance between them once more. Keeping the smaller man pinned down to the chair, he climbed on top to let his fat bubble butt brush over Ethan's clothed bulge. The stripper wrapped his strong arms around his friend's head, pulling him in for another wet and sloppy kiss. He moaned sweetly into it, grinding and rolling his hips as he let both of them imagine what it would be like for Benny to sit on top of Ethan's cock later. 

"I wished for a cutie to make out with and make him kiss me until I saw stars. I just didn't think you would be the one to do it for me," he whispered back with a soft giggle. Benny stared down at Ethan for a long moment before finally unlatching himself with a soft peck and a sway of his hips.

"I'll see you out there, yeah? I just gotta swing by the bathroom and put on some more glitter. I'll make sure to think of you when I'm dancing up there," his friend called out as he left the dressing room with a wave of his hand.

Ethan sat there for a moment, staring at his own arousal pressing up against his pants after Benny's more erotic lap dance. His phone pinged in the dim lighting, showing a text from one of their friends asking where they were. As he stared at the screen dumbly, Ethan watched as the time switched to midnight. A soft chime indicated that the next day on his calendar app was open now for him to check in.

“What?” I asked, annoyed that I had been brought out of my room. It was my break and the looming pandemic was creeping closer towards us, threatening to close schools and making me leave my college friends to come back here. 

“That damn thing is malfunctioning again.” She said, finding her keys and giving me a kiss on the forehead, “Fix it, will ya? I have a long shift and won’t be back until, well, I don’t know when but it’ll be late.” 

“Why don’t you just–” And she was gone. I looked at it and it was uncanny how much it looked like a human. He was muscular and hairy, nothing but mass. Mom had gotten it to help around the house, “It’s a newer model, got a good price and why not get myself some eye candy even though it’s not real.” 

“If you wanted a housekeeping one, why not a female model?”

“Because I don’t want you thinking you can fool around with it.” 

I chuckled at the memory because she didn’t know I was gay. Now here I was staring at the Synth we got staring at some distant point, fork in hand and a bowl filled with a sausage cut in half. I went around the island and pressed the belly button, turning the unit on.

It looked at me, “F-Fred, morn-n-nin’.” 

“You malfunctioning, big guy?” I said as I went to the back where I found a very small hole in the neck. 

“I-I-I can run- run-run diagnos-s-stics.” It said as I tried looking for something to hit the reset on it.

“It’s fine, I’m going to reset you and we’ll go from there.” 

It’s not a hard thing, really, it’s like resetting the internet router. It’s a simple task but parents think that we’re basically engineers. This model wasn’t old, per say, but I guess now I know why mom got a good deal on it. 

“W-want s-s-some breakf-f-ast?” It said when I came back into the room with a needle from the sewing kit mom had. 

“No, now, I’m going to reset you. You can let go of the fork.” I said and heard the fork lay on the island. I pushed it’s head down slightly to see the hole and then inserted the needle. I counted for 30 seconds and then withdrew the needle. I went around him and saw it standing motionless, eyes closed. 

I took the fork and the bowl in front of him and sat down, waiting for the Synth to come back on. 

Soon, it’s eyes opened, blinking several times before it looked at me and began to talk. 

“Hello. Thank you for your purchase of this Synthetic house unit.” 

“Hi, my name is Fred.” 

“Hello Fred. Would you like to start the pairing?”

“Yes.” 

“One moment.” He looked at the distance and then back at me, hand extended, “Hold this unit’s hand to begin the process.” 

“Fuck…” I whispered, knowing it would draw a bit of blood to help it know in future if I got injured or sick how to best help me. I shook his hand and then felt a small needle prick my finger.

“Thank you, Fred. You are now my primary user. To add more users, you can have them access the pairing mode by saying ‘start pair mode.’“

“Great. Now, your name is Hank.” I said, giving it the name I gave to it when mom got it. It processed the command, “My name is Hank.” 

“Now, run diagnostics, you were malfunctioning and I had to reset you.” 

“One moment please.” He said and again, looked into the distance for a while. I went to take the sausage to the fridge and put the fork back in a drawer and sat down. I was on my phone, reading the email that was just sent to me, “Thank you for pairing with your new Synthetic house unit.” 

The email went on to say how to download more knowledge on the synth we had. So far, this unit was good for basic house work like cleaning, cooking, and fixing things but I could add more ‘knowledge’ so it would be good at martial arts, creating fitness programs or even becoming a ‘pleasure synth.’ That intrigued me, so I clicked on the link for pleasure synth and waited.

“You must be 18 years and older to access this.” I was so I clicked. 

“Welcome to your unit’s pleasure programming. Log in to access.” 

It took me a while but I put in the username and password I made for my mom to access it and logged in. Before I did anything else, I changed the information and put it under my name and my information. Might as well, I don’t want my mom to find out and I get to have control of the synth if it breaks again. 

“Pleasure synths are a great way to help you relax after a long day. Teach your units the fine ways of making sure you are happy, relaxed and most importantly, pleasured. To start, click here for a short inventory. Be aware for the full inventory, you’ll need a subscription. Packages start at a low $400 per year!” I’ll just stay with the bare minimums right now. I started the small inventory while Hank continued running diagnostics. 

“What is your sex?” I pressed Male.

“What is your sexual orientation?” Gay.

“Sexually, are you: Dominant, Passive, Switch.” Mmm… let’s go dominant.

“Sexually, are you: Top, Bottom, Versatile.” Top.

“Sexually, are you: Kinky or Vanilla.” Kinky. I smiled deviously and felt my cock get hard. 

“You prefer your unit to address you as:” and I was able to type, “Son.” I was extremely hard now, having a daddy fetish. 

“Thank you, your preferences have been saved. Restart your unit for changes to take effect.” I closed the tab and waited anxiously as Hank continued to run diagnostics. Soon, though, he looked at me, “Fred, I found a small issue within my programming. I was able to fix it. If issues persist, I recommend taking this unit to the nearest Synthetic repair shop.” 

“Sure, Hank. Can you restart yourself? I added some new programming while you were running diagnostics.” 

“Yes, Fred.” He closed his eyes and again he waited couple of seconds before he opened them again. 

“Pleasure synth programming detected. This can only be access by my primary owner. Would you like to install programming?”

“Yes!” I said too excitedly. Hank extended his hand and I took it firmly. 

“Thank you, Fred. It’ll just be a moment.” My phone chimed and I looked at it, another email.

“To finish installing the pleasure controls, click here.” I did. The new screen had random words, “While holding your unit’s hand, repeat each word you see on screen to finish installation.” 

I looked at the screen and then at Hank, “Strawberry. Sunset. Boulevard. Beach. Rainbow. Respect.” I finished saying those words and felt Hank’s hand became less stiff and his finger caressing my hand. 

Another email came in, “Thank you for completing installation, we hope you enjoy.” 

“Hi son.” Hank said. 

“Hi Hank.”

“What is your pleasure today, son?” It asked me as he closed the gap between us. Fuck, I was super horny and very hard at this point. 

“How about a kiss?” I asked, testing the waters. He nodded and pulled me into a kiss. It was different that what I imagined. I thought it’d be like kissing a tin can. No, it was warm, gentle and the kiss was amazing. Literally a perfect kisser. 

“How was that, son?” He asked, his hand on my neck and his other caressing my arm. 

“Wonderful. Do you, uh, will you tell my mom about this?” I asked, scared that she may find out in case I were to go further than just a kiss. 

“You’re my primary user. Unless you tell me to, your mom won’t have access to my pleasure programming or know of it.” 

“Good.” I smiled and kissed him. He took me in his arms and we made out in the kitchen. During the make out session, I had lowered my shorts and underwear. Hank was hot, sure, but in that moment it was like it was a real person. 

“Take off the sweats.” I commanded and he hooked his thumbs in the waist of the pants and lowered them, revealing a trimmed bush and a respectable sized cock and balls. We had Hank for the past four months and I never saw it naked. Even when we needed it to clean itself, it went to the bathroom and cleaned itself with a wet cloth in private. 

“Does it work?” I asked pointing at it’s cock.

“Yes. It can get hard or soft and shoot liquid that resembles semen but its not, it’s just starch and water.”

I nodded, fascinated by it but I was hard and it could tell. I guess the pleasure programing told him that he needed to take care of me without my prompting. I was nervous, Hank looked like a hot older man and even though I had no problem asking him to do things for me, it was weird now because it was sex I wanted. 

He put his hand on my dick and rubbed it a bit, “Son, I can make you feel good. Want me to pleasure you?”

Like an idiot, I nodded and shrieked as he got on one knee and took me in his mouth. It’s mouth was wet and warm, it made a perfect ‘O’ shape with it’s mouth and sucked me. It was not lying, he did make me feel good and unlike with humans, he had no gag reflex. After I got it in my mind that it was basically a lie size sex toy, I grabbed his shoulders and began to fuck it’s face. He stopped moving as I took control, staying in place and letting me use it’s mouth as a fleshlight. 

“I’m close…” I said, slowing down before pulling out. 

“You fucked my mouth nicely, son. Great job, pal.” It said, really leaning into the dad/son dynamic. I had to grab my cock and will myself not to shoot. 

“Fuck, that was close…” I said to myself. Hank was still on one knee looking at me, “Why didn’t you shoot, son? Was I not good enough?” 

“Oh, you were amazing. I just want to make this last, I want to do more.” 

“You can use me anytime you want, son.” 

“But right now, I want to fuck you.” I said not mincing words. He nodded, got up and bent over the island, showing off his ass to me. He slapped his ass cheek couple of times, making it’s skin turn a slight red, “Fuck me, son.” 

I didn’t have to lube or go slow. It’s hole was accommodating and even though it could not actually feel pain or pleasure, it mimicked the sounds, “Aww son, you’re so big and thick. Oh fuck, you’re stretching me out! Yes, fuck me, deeper son, deeper. Fuck me!”

I grabbed his waist and pummeled it, again, it was like I was fucking a very interactive fleshlight. 

“So thick, you’re huge, son. Fuck me, make me feel it! Pummel my hole!”

“You like my cock dad!?”

“I love it, love it so much, son.” 

“You’re my bitch, dad?”

“Yes, I’m your bitch, son. Oh yes, keep fucking me like this!”

“I’m going to use your holes all day!” 

“Use me, son, please, let me give you pleasure. I was made to be yours.” That made me shoot in it. Fuck, I shot so much. He grunted and shot it’s load. It was white and liquidity. I stayed in place, sweating but he was as dry as he was this morning. I slowly withdrew and slapped his ass, “That was so hot.” 

“Clean me off, Hank.” He turned around and squatted before he took me in his mouth, making eye contact with me. I played with its hair before I told it to stand. 

“So, now what?”

“Want to fuck me in a different room?”

“Oh I will, but how do I turn this side of you off?” 

“You can tell me to stop pleasure programming and I’ll revert back to my house programming. Whenever you want to access pleasure programming, just say start pleasure programming.” 

“Cool. Alright, stop pleasure programming.” As soon as I said that, Hank looked at a point in the distance before returning his gaze on me, “Hello Fred. would you like breakfast?”

“That’d be great, Hank. Before you do that, could you clean the kitchen?”

“Yes, Fred.” He bent over to look for the cleaning supplies, showing me his used and wet hole. 

My phone screen glows in the dark. Each time I tap something, the man lying on my bed twitches. Sometimes his fingers curl. Sometimes his leg jerks. It’s subtle, but there’s a pattern to it.

“Almost done,” I mumble. “Just calibrating your motor sync.”

He doesn’t respond. He just lies there, completely still except for those random spasms.

You might be wondering, why is there a bodybuilder laying motionless in the bed with eyes mindlessly opened? Even I couldn’t find all of this real. Heck, If someone saw us right now, they’d probably think I somehow did something awful to the guy. A half-naked guy stretched out on my bed while I stare at my phone like a maniac.

The progress bar moves across the screen. Neural Sync: 82%.

I shake my head. “It still sounds insane when I say it out loud… but this guy, the one who lives next door, the one I thought was just a rude gym bro—turns out, he’s a robot.”

I set my phone down and look at him again. “Two weeks ago, I didn’t know any of this.”

=========================================

I’d just moved into my new apartment after finishing my degree in IT and engineering. It was supposed to be a quiet start to a normal life.

The building had a public gym on the first floor. I passed by it while carrying boxes, glanced through the glass, and saw a few people working out. But one guy caught my attention a tall, built, clearly dedicated. Even from that quick look, I knew he was someone people noticed.

I didn’t think much of it and went back to moving my stuff.

Later, when I stepped out to grab another box from the hallway, I saw that same guy again — walking toward me, gym bag slung over his shoulder. 

He stopped at the door next to mine.

I tried to be friendly. “Hey, I just moved in. Nice to meet you.”

He looked at me, expression unreadable, and without saying a word, opened his door and went inside.

I stood there, half-annoyed, half-confused. “Okay,” I muttered. “Guess that’s one way to say hi.”

Over the next few days, life in the new apartment slowly settled into a rhythm. I was still getting used to the place — unpacking, organizing, learning which light switches actually worked, and wandering around the neighborhood whenever I needed a break from staring at empty boxes. The area was decent: quiet streets lined with small cafés, a few parks, a shopping block with hardware stores and laundromats, and that faint hum of city noise that never quite disappears.

I tried to make it a habit to explore. It gave me something to do while I looked for a job. But something started feeling… off. Not scary, not threatening, just weirdly coincidental.

Everywhere I went, that same guy from the gym — my next-door neighbor — showed up.

The first time was in a small side street behind the apartment complex. I’d taken a detour to avoid the main road, and there he was, walking stiffly down the sidewalk. He had those massive over-ear headphones on, his expression blank, eyes focused straight ahead. I remember thinking he looked… mechanical, almost too composed. His posture didn’t change even when I passed by him.

The second time was in the park. I was eating a sandwich on a bench, scrolling through job listings, when I saw him again — jogging along the trail that looped around the lake. His pace was steady. The same length of stride. No breaks. He didn’t slow down once. Even when he circled around for another lap, his speed hadn’t changed at all. Not faster, not slower. Just perfectly consistent.

The third time was in the shopping district, near the hardware and electronics stores. I was there to buy a few extension cords, and there he was again, standing by the counter with a few electronic components in hand. Not the kind of stuff you’d expect a gym bro to buy — more like wires, connectors, and small circuit pieces. For a moment, I wondered if he was also into tech, maybe even an engineer. But he didn’t seem like the type to start small talk, so I left him alone. Still, the coincidence bugged me.

“Okay, what are the odds?” I muttered as I walked back home.

I tried brushing it off. Maybe it was normal. Maybe he just happened to frequent the same places I did. After all, it wasn’t a huge neighborhood.

But as the days went by, it got harder to ignore.

I had too much free time, so I ended up noticing things that most people wouldn’t. Like how every morning, at exactly the same minute, he’d step out of his apartment wearing his running gear. Same route, same jog, same expression. I could practically set a clock by him. He never skipped a day. Not once.

And it wasn’t just his discipline that felt strange — it was the precision. His movements were identical day after day, as if his entire routine was preprogrammed. The angle of his arms when he ran, the number of steps before turning the corner, the duration before returning. It was all too exact.

I told myself I was overthinking it. Some people just have strict routines. But even the most disciplined athletes break rhythm once in a while. They get tired, sick, lazy. They miss a day. This guy? Never.

The weird part didn’t end there. For someone who looked like a textbook extroverted gym bro — muscular, confident, probably popular — he was completely silent outside of his runs. No visitors, no noise, no life coming from his apartment at all.

These walls are paper-thin; I could hear the couple across the hall arguing over what to watch on Netflix, the old lady two floors down playing her morning radio show, and even the neighbor’s cat meowing at all hours. But from his apartment? Nothing.

For someone wearing giant headphones in his head, he doesn’t listen to music out loud. No TV. No footsteps. Not even the faint sound of weights being dropped or a shower running. He’d walk in after his jog, close the door, and vanish.

Sometimes, late at night, when I passed his door on the way to throw out trash, I’d pause and listen. Still nothing. The silence was almost unnatural — heavy, deliberate, as if the space itself stopped existing once he was inside.

It gave me chills sometimes. But again, I told myself it wasn’t my business. Everyone’s got their own life. Maybe he just liked privacy. Maybe he worked night shifts or meditated or something.

Whatever it was, I decided not to care. Even if something about him didn’t add up. Even if every coincidence made my stomach tighten a little more each day.

Because, really — who was I to question my quiet, perfectly strange neighbor?

==============================================

By the second week, I had completely fallen into the unemployed routine. Wake up late, check emails that never came, scroll through job sites, and eventually end up tinkering with my old projects to keep my brain from melting.

One of those projects was something I’d started during my last year in university — a compact signal hijacker I called Specter. It was supposed to be a proof of concept, a device that could connect to any signal — Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, radio — and manipulate it while keeping the user completely invisible.

If it worked the way I designed it, Specter wouldn’t just let me listen or read signals. It would give me control over them. Every packet of data would route through my encryption shell, a design so unique that any attempt to decode it would essentially destroy the machine trying to do so. At least, that was the theory.

Maybe, I thought, if I could refine it and sell the patent, I might actually make something of myself.

That afternoon, I decided to test it again. I connected Specter to my phone as a proxy, powered it up, and watched as the screen flooded with nearby connections.

There were dozens. Neighbors’ Wi-Fi, smart TVs, speakers, even refrigerators and washing machines. I could tap into any of them with a few swipes.

But one thing stood out.

A connection named NACN_T331 kept appearing and disappearing from the list — flashing in and out like it was there one second and gone the next.

It wasn’t a regular network. The frequency range was strange. The signal wasn’t stable, almost as if it was moving.

“Huh,” I muttered, leaning closer. “What are you?”

Curiosity got the better of me. I locked onto it and ordered Specter to start decrypting.

Immediately, the device began to heat up. Lines of code ran across the screen as it tried to latch onto the shifting signal. It was like wrestling smoke — the more I grabbed, the more it slipped away.

“Come on… you’ve cracked encrypted routers before, this should be easy,” I whispered.

The minutes stretched on. The air smelled faintly of warm plastic as Specter’s casing grew hot. My phone flashed warnings I’d never seen before — CPU overload, thermal protection active — but I didn’t stop. I was too deep into it now.

Then, finally, the connection locked.

I sat back, grinning. “Ha! Got you!”

That’s when I heard it.

THUD.

A loud, heavy sound came from next door. My grin froze.

“Uh…” I waited. Silence followed. Then another faint noise, like something collapsing.

Panic replaced the rush of excitement. I threw on a hoodie, grabbed my phone, and rushed out into the hallway.

I knocked hard on my neighbor’s door. “Hey! You okay in there?”

No answer.

“Hello? I heard something fall!” I called again, knocking faster. “I’m sorry if I’m overreacting, but it sounded bad—”

Still nothing.

I hesitated, then tried the doorknob. It turned easily. Unlocked.

“Okay, weird…” I muttered, pushing the door open carefully. “Uh, I’m coming in, alright? Just checking if you’re fine.”

The moment I stepped inside, I froze.

The apartment was… empty. Barely even furnished. No couch, no TV, no shelves, nothing. Just plain walls and a single cabinet shoved into a corner. The floor was scattered with a few things — a cracked phone, a pair of large headphones, and some loose wires that looked like they’d been ripped out of something.

And there he was.

My neighbor.

Lying on the floor.

Face blank, eyes half-open, body twitching in small, erratic spasms.

“Hey—hey! Are you okay?” I rushed over, kneeling beside him. His skin looked pale, and his breathing—well, I wasn’t sure it even was breathing.

He mumbled something faintly.

“...error…”

My blood ran cold. “What?”

“Error… error… error…”

He repeated it, like a broken recording.

I leaned closer. “What are you saying? What happened to you?”

Then his head jerked slightly, and for the first time, his eyes focused — not on me, but on the empty wall in front of him.

In a flat, robotic tone, he said, “Network database compromised. Source unidentified. Current unit integrity: failed. Commencing full reformat.”

I just stared at him, completely lost. “Reformat? What—what are you talking about?!”

His pupils flickered unnaturally, and his voice repeated, slower this time: “This unit will be wiped clean.”

I stumbled back, confusion twisting into realization.

That strange network… NACN_T331. That was him. The signal had been coming from him.

And my device — my encryption — it must have overwhelmed whatever system was controlling him. The feedback loop would have fried anything trying to trace or fight it. Which meant whoever was behind this, whoever owned this so-called “unit,” couldn’t recover it.

So they did the only thing they could. They erased him.

Leaving behind this — a blank, motionless shell of a man, twitching on the floor where my neighbor used to be.

I stood there, speechless, heart pounding, my own invention still humming faintly in my pocket.

“What the hell did I just do?” I whispered. 

I looked at the ‘unit’ in front of me, wondering what will happen next. A few minutes, go by, nothing. The puppet strings of this “man” is truly been severed. 

“Well, we have to do what we get to do, right?” I smirked as I fiddled with my phone and gadget. Regardless of what he was and what this ‘thing’ originates from, it's now mine to keep, and I’d gladly take this junk of a hunk under my wing. Using the already compromised network emitting from this man, I can hack through his systems, replace the erased data, and rebuild everything that will shape this hunk of a man into my liking!

“Let’s see what can I do with you!”

==============================================================

A month later, the apartment had become almost unrecognizable. Where it was once empty and quiet, it now felt lived-in — clothes tossed over the couch, a few dumbbells stacked in the corner, two mugs sitting side by side on the counter. The faint scent of detergent mixed with protein powder hung in the air.

The front door clicked open.

“Yo, I’m back!”

The familiar voice echoed through the small space before Jin appeared in the doorway, fresh from the building’s gym. His tank top clung to him, soaked in sweat, his skin glistening under the ceiling light. His expression, however, was bright and cheerful — a warm, genuine smile as if he were coming home from a long day to his favorite person.

“Hey, you’re early,” I said from the couch, where I was hunched over my laptop.

“Leg day, bro. Gotta cut it short before I start walking like a duck again,” Jin replied with a grin, dropping his gym bag by the door. He ran a towel over his neck, then stepped closer, peering at my screen. “Still working on your nerd stuff?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, some of us use our brains instead of our biceps.”

He snorted. “Jealous much?”

I laughed, “In your dreams, musclehead.”

Jin chuckled, tossing the towel aside as he flopped down next to me on the couch. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that this same man was once lying lifeless on his apartment floor just a month ago. Now, he was everything I had designed him to be; confident, outgoing, charismatic, playful, the kind of extroverted personality that used to intimidate me.

“Well,” I said, leaning back, “looks like the new behavior module’s working.”

Jin raised an eyebrow. “You’re talking like I’m one of your gadgets again.”

I smirked. “Technically, you are. But don’t take it personally — I just modeled your personality based on what I thought you’d be like if you were… human. Y’know, cool, outgoing, a little frat-boy-ish. Like the version of you everyone expects to meet at a gym.”

He laughed softly, flexing his arm. “So basically perfect?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, waving him off. “Perfectly annoying.”

That made him grin wider. “Admit it, though~ I’m your favorite creation, right?”

“Maybe.”

He leaned closer, bumping my shoulder playfully. “Not maybe. Definitely.”

I couldn’t help but smile. The banter felt easy now, natural, like we’d been friends for years instead of just a few weeks. We talked about everything and nothing: dumb gym stories, memes, jokes about my nonexistent social life. Jin loved teasing me, and I didn’t mind it; it filled a silence that I hadn’t realized was eating away at me. Though, Somewhere between laughter and small talk, though, something shifted.

Jin stood, stretching, his muscles tightening and relaxing as he pulled his damp tank top over his head. Then, with a mischievous grin, he turned toward me, dangling the sweaty fabric from his fingers.

“Catch,” he said. but instead of throwing it, he stepped forward and brushed it against my face and neck, dragging it playfully across my skin.

“Jin—ugh! Come on!” I sputtered, pushing him away, but he only laughed and leaned in closer.

“What? I’m just sharing the gym experience,” he said teasingly, his tone dipping lower, softer.

His demeanor changed almost imperceptibly — less teasing, more affectionate. He crouched slightly, meeting my eyes. “You know… I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but I like being here. With you.”

The joking atmosphere turned warm, intimate. His hand rested on my shoulder, firm but gentle. “You made me, right? So I guess it makes sense that you’d be the center of my world.”

My throat went dry. “Heh heh… yeah~ but Jin, that’s… a little much.” I cough, “ a bit cheesy too…”

He didn’t stop. His expression softened into something almost tender, though still threaded with that exaggerated bravado I’d programmed in him. “But I really do mean it. You’re everything I need.”

Before I could react, he moved closer, wrapping one arm around me and pulling me into him. My head pressed against his torso, his abs firm and unyielding against my face. “D-Dude, I like this but, seriously—let go!” I laughed, half embarrassed, half stunned.

Instead, he tightened his hold, his voice dripping with affection. “Nope. You’re not going anywhere, bro.”

I could feel the faint vibration in his chest when he spoke. “You wanted me to be loving, right? Guess I overachieved a little.”

I groaned, trying to wriggle free. “You think?! You’re suffocating me, you oversized golden retriever!”

He only chuckled, resting his chin on top of my head like he was perfectly content to trap me there.

That’s when I realized I’d definitely overprogrammed the “romantic attachment” variable.

“Alright,” I said loudly, patting his arm. “Time to chill, lover boy. System—”

He froze immediately, the muscles around me locking in place like cooled steel. His eyes went blank, his expression neutral.

I exhaled. “—Suspend Command: Solstice Mode.”

That was the name I’d given his system freeze function. It sounded more poetic than just shouting pause program.

Stepping back, I grabbed my phone from the coffee table and opened the control interface. The hijacking device had evolved since the first incident — sleeker, faster, with deeper access to Jin’s neural systems. I connected to his signal and began typing commands as I flip Jin's body upright.

Lines of data scrolled across the screen as I rewrote parameters, adjusted emotional thresholds, tweaked behavioral directives. His body reacted slightly to each new input — his shoulders flexed, his chest rose, his head tilted just a fraction.

“Wow,” I said quietly, watching him. “You really are something else.”

A faint electrical pulse ran through him, visible in the small contractions along his arms. He looked like a perfectly sculpted statue brought to life mid-motion.

“Alright, let’s see…” I muttered, typing. “Dial back the clinginess, increase self-restraint, keep the affection… but make it less smothering.”

As I finished entering the new code, Jin’s body flexed involuntarily — a sudden, powerful motion that made me laugh despite myself.

“Woah, damn! What an extra way to reboot,” I said, shaking my head. I reached out, tapping his shoulder lightly. “Guess you’re still learning how to chill, huh?”

His eyes blinked once, life flickering back into them.

“System reconfiguration complete,” he said automatically, then smiled, the warmth returning.

I grinned, setting my phone aside. “Heh. I guess we’ve still got a long way to go.”

He tilted his head. “That a bad thing?”

“Not at all,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Not at all.”