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

Soul To Hold: Paradise I

A Soul To Hold's story

I think I should have learned my lesson the first time, but if we're here, it's because obviously I didn't. Parker and I have been together for four years, and they've been the most wonderful years of my life.

He's everything anyone could want: strong, attentive, intelligent, a little... nerdy sometimes, but good heavens, I love it when he starts talking about the things he's passionate about. The problem? Parker, like his whole family, has a genetic "condition" that puts things very risky every time we leave the house, and someone could end up stealing his body.

And no, I'm not being sarcastic.

Parker is a "beacon", someone who can attract other souls (living or dead) to take over their bodies as they please. Of course, he doesn't control it or manage it, which got us into a really big bind last Halloween.

And since then, the problem has only gotten worse. It turns out that the broken necklace that night has caused his powers to spiral out of control like never before. You know what happens when flies and other insects see a bright light in the middle of a cold, dark night? They swarm towards it, surround it, and try to stick to it with all their might, even if it means bursting into flames. 

Well, that's what the souls surrounding Parker's body were like.

He's been possessed by countless people and spirits. His boss, a man in his forties with a gigantic belly, possessed him in the middle of a meeting, causing "Parker" to start rubbing himself against the table like an uncontrollable pervert, panting and putting his fingers in his mouth, lost in his own pleasure. It was incredibly lucky that the same idiot who possessed him ended up admitting it was his fault (in private, of course) and didn't fire him.

Another day, he was possessed by a neighbor, then a scrawny guy on the street, the ghost of an old man, a jealous nerd, and the list went on and on and on.

— Come on, we can go on vacation. You've already spent a fortune on those tickets and the hotel; we can't just let it go.

— Of course we can. I don't care about the money. If your body gets lost there, what am I going to do? No. That's a definite no.

— Wait – Parker reached out and placed his hand on mine, stopping me from frantically unpacking – How long has it been since I was possessed?

— I don't know. What does it matter?

— Honey, the last possession happened about three weeks ago. Gale and I have been trying to perfect a new collar to make it stronger so no one can steal my body again. See? I'm here with you, I'm not going anywhere, you have nothing to fear – he smiled slyly, caressing my cheek. I just pressed my lips together. Was that true? Really?... No, it was true. His body hadn't been stolen in almost a month, everything had been fine, maybe we could go to the beach. I desperately needed a vacation. I loved Parker, but it was tiring chasing after him like a dog that had gotten loose and was running flat on its back.

— Maybe... we can try – I nodded nervously.

Our trip was to a paradise destination, right on the Pacific Ocean, with light brown sand, delicious sunshine, palm trees everywhere, and that salty scent. The hotel had a pool, a spa area; it really was a dream come true, although, unfortunately for me, I was always on my guard. Even worse on the plane, I felt like everyone was staring at us, and it's not like I blame people for looking at Parker like that – I mean, those shoulders, biceps, and pecs are to die for. I absolutely love how thick and plump his legs look when he sits down and the muscle presses against the seat – but one wrong look and a tourist could end up inside him, with an all-expenses-paid vacation inside my boyfriend.

— Are you sure you feel okay? – I murmured, noticing how a guy was staring at us from a seat in front of us in the other row. It wasn't a look of surprise or strangeness (because yes, we may be in the 21st century, but ignorance is still lurking), it was more like… dark, almost with a desire. I tried to look away; Parker was just looking at his phone, trying to choose what music to put on his headphones.

— I feel fine, you don't have to worry about anything. I already told you Gale and I have been sorting that out. Just breathe, it's your vacation after all, right? – He winked at me before gently leaning in and pressing his lips to mine, his soft tongue trying to find mine while his arm pressed against my shoulder with affection and comfort – I love you.

— I love you more – I gave a soft smile, closing my eyes to make the journey more bearable.

Everything was normal up until that point. As soon as we got off the plane, we took a taxi to the hotel. The reception staff was also very kind, giving us exclusive wristbands and handing us our room keys. It was a fantastic place, almost like something out of a movie: white walls, the sound of water splashing in the pool, the aroma of food from the buffet, the warm, humid air, and the distant ocean.

— Where is our room?

— I think it's across the pool. It's supposed to be a deluxe room, right? – Parker was distracted, reading the room specifications, the entrance, exit, and those details.

There were a couple of people in the pool; some were swimming, others were talking while having their drinks by the edge, but there was one guy in particular. He looked about our age, a little chubby, his cheeks flushed from the heat, his hair wet. He regarded the others with a hint of jealousy, even resentment, isolated. His swimsuit did its best to cover him, but a few rolls of fat still peeked out at the sides. He was sprawled on a sun lounger.

We both walked back to our tower. The room was on the third floor. We carried our suitcases upstairs to the door. I swiped my card, and a tidy, uncluttered room with a fan spinning on the ceiling welcomed us. Parker closed the door, dropped our suitcases, and immediately took me by the waist, carrying me to the bed. I just giggled, wrapping my arms around his neck until my back touched the sheets next to the mattress.

— So... What do we do now? – he murmured, his breath ragged, his lips almost touching mine. I loved the way his face looked, so close to mine. I had to swallow hard, a soft giggle escaping my lips, my fingers tangling in his hair.

— I think... You know what… – I brought my lips closer to his, kissing him intensely, saliva trickling between us, our tongues clashing, his grunts. Everything was perfect. The way he placed his hands on the buttons of my shirt to unbutton it, I pressed myself closer to him, needing to feel his warmth.

— Mfhh, love, I think that... UGHH! – His eyes suddenly glazed over, his throat went tight as if he were swallowing, his expression blank. Shit.

— Parker, dear?! – I tried to reach out and grab his shoulders, but all I could hear were his grunts and guttural sounds. He was in a complete trance.

— MFHHHH! – He groaned again, his tongue sticking out slightly, his eyes continuing to roll back, turning completely white. He stayed like that for a while, falling back onto the bed and having spasms, one after another. His body was tense and erect. I tried to move him closer to the center of the bed, but I noticed he stopped moving, so I moved a little closer to him. I don't know when he opened his eyes, but slowly, they began to open.

— Ugh, my head – he said, slowly sitting up, dazed, and putting his hands to his head.

— D-Darling? – I murmured, although, given what happened next, I think the answer was pretty obvious. His eyes opened wide, like saucers. First, he looked at me, confused, but... Happy? He looked at his palms, noticing his new, longer, athletic fingers. Then he put his hands on his shoulders, tracing his biceps with a fascinated laugh.

— Oh my... Good heavens! – His hand sank directly into his pecs like pizza dough, his expression one of pure euphoria. He stood up, his gaze lingering on his abs, then quickly lifted his shirt and ran his hand around them, laughing maniacally – This is... Wow!

Then he began patting his thighs, eager, more excited than anything in the world. I swallowed hard. It couldn't be.

I left the room slowly. He seemed too enthralled with his new body to notice me. I pulled out my phone, selected a contact, and pressed the call button. I waited on hold for a while until someone answered.

— Hey, bro! How were your holidays? – a deep voice called out. It was definitely Gale, but he was probably in another body. I didn't want to ask right now.

— Um, let's just say they were good. I just have one question, Gale. Exactly what did you and Parker do with the necklace? Shouldn't it work better to… keep people away from his body?

— … What are you talking about, Dylan? I haven't done anything with Gale, or his collar. You know I don't even wear mine, so why would I know how to improve the protection on his?

It was like a bucket of ice water had been thrown on me.

— He hasn't… told you anything? – I swallowed – Doesn't anyone in your family know?

I glanced back out of the corner of my eye into our room. The guy who was now inside my boyfriend's body had the elastic of his pants pulled up and was swaying his hips with fascination as he watched his tool move.

— Dylan, I don't understand a damn thing you're saying. What's going on?

— Parker's been having trouble with his collar. It's not working; they've practically been stealing his body uncontrollably. Right now… Someone's inside him.

— What?! And why did you go on vacation if you knew this was going to happen?!

— Gale. I'm not in the mood for this. Can you do anything?

— And what do you want me to do?

— Last time you got inside him. I'd rather have you than some stranger. I just want to keep his body safe, be able to get him on the plane and bring him back home. I don't care about the vacation right now; I just want to keep him safe.

— It's a long way, Dylan. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't connect to his body. He's miles and miles away. The only solution you have is to try to bring him back so you can return.

— And what do I do with whoever's inside his body?

— I'm afraid you'll have to make that person leave of their own accord… Because of the distance, the connection between that person's body and Parker's soul is unstable. I don't think it's a good idea for you to get on a plane without my brother in control of his body – The silence was long – Um… I'll try to see what I can do to reinforce the collar's protection, or do something better, but I can't promise anything. If my family hasn't been able to control this in almost a hundred years, I don't think I can, Dylan, but… I'll try. Goodbye.

The beep ending the call continued to pound in my eardrums for a long time until I finally managed to put the phone down and hang up. What was I supposed to do? Getting those guys out of Parker's body was always a constant, almost never-ending struggle, and dude, was it going to be exhausting.

Thanks to months of research (more forced than out of curiosity), I discovered that the lighthouses don't exist just for the sake of it. It seems they had some kind of… divine mission, to fulfill the desires and dreams of others through their bodies. As if they were fairy godmothers for the living and the dead, the unfinished business of ghosts and other spirits still haunting the earth could be settled, allowing them to rest. In the case of the living, it was more a matter of… freeing the body without going to extremes.

Appeasing ghosts and entities was always much easier, and I only hoped my new “visitor” was one of them.

I re-entered the room with soft steps so as not to attract too much attention. Now he was standing in front of the mirror with a sly, almost mocking smile. “Parker” was running his hands over his chest, slowly and gently, as if performing a sacred dance. His breathing was ragged, panting for more.

— Damn, you’ve got a great body, man – he licked his lips, until he finally noticed me in the corner of his eye – Is this a… dream? – he smiled, excited, as if it were my mission to guide him.

— Uh, I… Yes, sure. It’s all a dream – I nodded, trying to look more convincing. He just frowned, lost in thought, before finally shrugging and making a rather stupid face, leaning back on the bed to slip his hand inside his pants and sniff Parker's tool. — Woah! This smells fantastic, it's so... vivid and real. Are you supposed to be my conscience or something?

— Sure, I'm your... conscience, like you said. Why do you think you're in this body?

— Meh, I don't know, vacations are boring when you don't have a good body – he muttered, lifting his armpit to sniff it, delighted by the aroma mixed with his own stench and a bit of deodorant. It was woody and at the same time, slightly sour with hints of masculinity. I had to restrain myself so I wouldn't end up with an uncomfortable tent in my pants.

— Why do you say that?

— Because… You know, duh, if you're my conscience, you should know – Our eyes locked for a long moment until he sighed and rolled his eyes – My university is supposed to be on a class trip, everyone's having a blast, except me. I don't have anyone to talk to, and it's not like they want to socialize much with the chubby guy in class. Flirt with some stranger? Yeah, right, they're going to start laughing like crazy at how my belly looks above my swimsuit.

I thought for a while, until I figured out what this guy wanted and how to kick him out. I just hope I can handle him well…

— Fuck, the water feels fantastic – The guy who controlled my boyfriend's body had his precious new possession soaked from head to toe. Drops of chlorinated water ran down his broad chest, a few tiny droplets gathering on his areolas before falling into the pool. He was wearing the tightest swimsuit he could find in Parker's backpack, reveling in his new thick muscles, those rock-hard biceps and thighs, swimming from one end of the pool to the other. Luckily, his classmates had left before we did, and he was hoping no one else would join us.

— Enjoy it, it's for you – I managed the best smile I could muster. Why hadn't he left Parker yet? We'd been swimming like idiots here for almost an hour, and he was still flexing arrogantly, constantly grabbing his abs underwater as if he wanted to etch into his mind the sensation of not encountering a voluptuous stomach. I even saw him rubbing himself against the pool filter, the one that sprays water in a jet... rubbing himself like an itchy bear against a tree, letting out soft gasps. What more did this guy want?!

I noticed his gaze, beyond the self-centered glances he gave himself every five seconds, how he kept watching me, lightly biting his lip, trying to act "casual", flexing his biceps every time our eyes met. I clenched my jaw. Was this really necessary? There had to be another way, although, if I had to do this to get Parker's body back... I preferred it to be my way rather than some attractive tourist finding his way to the pool.

— And... Do you like this? – I approached, slowly, whispering as if my velvety voice were a siren afraid to break the calm of the water around her.

— Damn, I love it. I hope I never have to wake up. There are so many things I'd like to do.

— Oh yeah? Like what? Why don't you... tell me about it? – My hand slid across his chest to wrap my hands around the back of his neck. His expression was initially confused, even frightened by the closeness, but I remained firm, trying to convince myself that this was Parker. If it was his body, it had to be easier to interpret. He smiled slowly, then wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me close. I felt our wet, damp tools begin to move against each other beneath the water. He let out a soft gasp, slowly bringing his lips to mine. I closed my eyes and braced myself for what was to come.

I felt him open his mouth, his tongue darting towards mine, a clumsy collision. Was this his first kiss, or...?

— MFHHH! 

What had been clumsiness instantly transformed into eagerness. He gripped both my cheeks tightly, kissing me with desperation and desire, as if we weren't in a public place. He began caressing the rest of my body, my arms, my chest, pulling me closer and closer to him like I owned him. I could feel Parker's obelisk shooting upwards.

— Mfhh… — he kissed me again for what felt like an hour, until he finally pulled away, his breath ragged and his eyes sparkling. 

— Damn, you have no idea how much I wanted to do that. My mind knows you're totally my type, right? – he smiled. I couldn't help but blush, nodding almost wordlessly so he could kiss me again, his fingers tangling in my hair. The intense kisses continued for a while until I felt his body stiffen.

— Ugh, damn it, my head, shit… – he muttered. I slowly pulled away, waiting to see what would come of it – Dyl?

— My love? – I moved closer again to hug him gently.

— Looks like someone got inside me, huh? – he sighed, looking down. I watched from behind us as the same chubby guy who'd been in the pool when we arrived got up, startled, from the lounge chair he'd been lying on, his eyes still a bit sleepy.

— And I think someone's been lying to me, haven't you?

— Dyl, I…

— Spare me the details. I know you haven't spoken to Gale at all, I know you haven't gone to see your family, and that your damn magic necklace isn't working. What's wrong, Parker? We're supposed to be a team. You're supposed to be telling me these things. Do you know the danger we're in now that we're here? What will we do if I can't get whoever's in your body out?

— But the vacation-

— I don't give a damn about the vacation! – I was so angry. I clenched my fists. I felt like a pressure cooker about to explode. 

— I thought I could control it, that I could master it better, love, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel-

— Well, you thought wrong, Parker! You can't control it, and you never will. End of story.

I groaned, wading through the pool until I reached the edge to grab my flip-flops and a towel, which I wrapped around my waist. I was practically trembling with anger.

— Where are you going?... – he muttered, like a scolded puppy.

— For a walk. I don't want to be with you right now. Go lock yourself in our room and turn off your social media. I'm serious. I don't want you to keep putting yourself out there – I clenched my fists and strode forward aimlessly, hearing Parker's pleas behind me. Was I... doing the right thing? Was I being correct about what was happening?

I didn't know, honestly. Everything was still spinning. Having his body stolen from him each time wasn't getting any easier, and honestly, I was starting to question whether I wanted to continue with this in the long run. How much of myself, how much of him, or even how much of our relationship was I willing to pay? How could I have been so irresponsible? I remembered how worried he was at the beginning, always wearing his necklace, trying to be as private and discreet as possible, his calm demeanor, his responsible and much less impulsive behavior. What the hell had happened to that guy I'd fallen in love with these past few months?

Now it was a vacation, but what about afterward? What if on our anniversary a waiter stole his body again? What if at Christmas he ended up in some dump because a homeless person was jealous of him, or even on our wedding day, what if his ex-boyfriend got jealous of us and ended up possessing him to make a scene?

Was that really what I wanted for the rest of my life? I inhaled a little, trying to walk to clear my thoughts, I just… wanted to be alone, I didn't need anyone at that moment.

📲. Hey, bro, I found something. I think you have to see it, call me when you can, it's urgent.

To be continued.

----

Hey everyone!

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

I think a special summer story was long overdue, and I was so eager to continue Parker and Dylan's story. It will only be a two-part mini-story (the next part will be out in July, so look forward to it).

Also, as you know, I just opened an account on X, which I'm really excited about. I consider it a bold move, and I hope you'll support me in it. There, I'll be posting captions, story promotions for Patreon, polls, thoughts, and other things related to the topics of body swapping, possession, hypnosis, transformation, and so on, which we love so much. And even more exciting, you'll be able to enjoy all that content without the restrictions that this platform usually has, if you know what I mean, hehe.

So don't miss the chance to follow me! Thank you so much for your support, really.

I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?

I just finished up taking a slash when I noticed the glory hole from the corner of my eye. I was curious. I never considered myself gay, but after hours on the road alone, and having to skip a workout, I just needed to get my balls drained. I couldn’t care less who was on the other end. Just the thought of a warm mouth wrapped around my cock was making me hard. I could hear someone breathing on the other side of the stall, so I stroked to full hardness before shoving myself through the hole. I stood there, squatting down slightly to compensate for my height as I waited for something to happen. 

I heard a gasp from the other stall. I smirked to myself. It wasn’t the first time I’d had that reaction when someone had seen my dick for the first time. I felt a small hand grab my dick, its soft touch dancing along the length of my cock. A shiver went up my spine and my cock pulsed again as more blood tried to force its way into my already swollen tool. The fingers made their way down to my balls, before gently palming their hefty weight. “You’re certainly a big one aren’t you?” said a soft voice through the wall as the hand started to fondle my balls. I grunted in reply. I was so horny, I was practically ready to fuck the wall at this point. “Well that isn’t how this is going to work,” the voice said in a much darker tone. With that I felt a piercing pain surge through my body as the fingers around my nuts tightened like a vice, squeezing them painfully.

“What the fuck!” I roared as I pulled myself out of the hole and stumbled back into the opposite wall of the bathroom stall. Looking down at my junk I saw my balls had turned an angry red colour. Adrenaline surged through my veins as I felt rage boil over. I was going to fuck this queer up. As I reached to fling the stall door open, I heard the voice once more. “On your knees”. It was cold and commanding.  I stopped in my tracks. And looked back towards the glory hole. “I said on your fucking knees,” the voice said again, this time with more than a hint of annoyance. 

I had always considered myself to be the strong alpha type and honestly a bit of a fuck boy. But something about this strong, commanding presence had seemed to awaken something inside of me. Something that I’d always been too afraid to let out. Almost without thinking, I knelt down on the cool tiled floor and faced towards the hole. Almost immediately, a thin, skinny cock was appeared through the hole. If it weren’t for the vein down the side, I would have sworn it was flaccid. I accidentally let out a low chuckle at the patheticness of it all. “Ohh you think it's funny do you you little bitch boy? Let’s see how funny you find it when you choke on it” the voice snapped at me. I immediately shut my mouth, returning the room to silence. This time it was the voice’s turn to chuckle. “Good, now fucking suck it”.

Of course, I’d never sucked a dick before. But I immediately took this tiny cocklet into my mouth and began working it like I was a pro. The person on the other side of the stall was clearly enjoying it based on the high-pitched moans.  “That’s it, take it all like the little cock slave you are,” he said as he began to move his hips in time with my thrusts. The extra leverage must have been helping him go even deeper into my mouth with each thrust because he seemed to be hitting the back of my throat with each long thrust. Wait, the back of my throat? I pulled myself off the dick and my eyes went wide. The small dicklet has grown, its slim form replaced by a respectable cock. “I didn’t say stop,” the voice commanded. Mesmerised, I lowered myself onto the cock once again. 

The cock was so thick, it was stretching my mouth. I tried to pull off. “Ohh no you don’t” the voice roared. I heard a massive bang, and my face was showered in splinters as a huge fist burst through the stall wall, grabbing me by the back of the head. I briefly registered a thick, meaty forearm. I was slammed down on the cock once more, its mushroom head battering the back of my throat. My aggressor was working me like a sex toy, letting me slide almost completely off his throbbing pole before slamming me back down as he pumped his crotch forward into my waiting gullet in long, rough strokes. “Fuck yeah” I heard him roar as his other hand grabbed at the top of the cubicle, cracking the wood with the sheer force of his grip. I looked up at the cracking sound. That’s when I noticed that my aggressor was so tall, his head peeking over the cubicle wall. He was insanely handsome - lantern jaw, flawless skin, perfectly manicured beard, and piercing blue eyes. I’d recognise that anywhere. I was staring at myself. 

With a wicked smirk, my doppelganger roughly pushed me down on his cock once more. This time, the mushroom head stretched my lips to the limit. I immediately began to choke the thick shaft that had snaked partway down my throat. My eyes grew wide as I realised there were still several inches of meaty cock left that couldn’t physically fit inside my mouth. My senses were assaulted as the hefty cock slammed into the back of my throat. The deep smell of musk made my eyes water. The taste of salty sweat precum on my tongue. My lungs are burning from lack of oxygen. Was this what I’d put my previous conquests through when I had my way with them?

I felt the cock pulse in my mouth, its meaty mass lurching suddenly before my mouth was filled with volley after volley of cum erupting from the tip. The sheer force quickly filled my mouth with the potent seed. His body twitched and flexed as it was rocked with orgasm, a deep rumbling growl echoing in his chest. It was all too much, as I released my own load into my pants. A short, sharp and unsatisfying climax. This experience wasn’t for me. It was all for the god towering over me. “Fuck, I didn’t know an orgasm could feel that good” he grumbled in my deep baritone as he rubbed his hands over his meaty torso, basking in his post-climax rush.

I slumped against the stall wall, my throat raw, the taste of his salty cum still coating my tongue. My lungs burned, and my jaw ached from being stretched so wide, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Something felt wrong. I glanced down at my hands. They were shaking, too small, too soft. My fingers fumbled over my chest, expecting the familiar hard slab of muscle I’d built over years of hauling heavy weights and fucking around. Instead, my fingers brushed a narrow, smooth frame, hairless and frail. I yanked my shirt off, staring in horror at a hairless torso, ribs faintly visible under pale skin, a pathetic little waist that could snap under a strong grip. My jeans sagged on hips too slim to hold them, the belt hanging loose like a cruel joke.

“What the fuck…” My voice cracked, high and nasal, nothing like the deep growl I’d used to command every room I walked into. I stumbled to the rusted mirror above the sink, stepping out of my now too-big jeans as I walked, my new legs trembling beneath me, weak and unsteady. The face staring back wasn’t mine. Wide, panicked eyes stared back at me, brown, not my piercing blue. My chiselled jaw was gone, replaced by a delicate, rounded one. No beard, just smooth skin that looked like it had never seen a razor. I looked like some twink straight out of a college dorm, the kind of kid I’d have laughed at for even glancing my way. My small hands clawed at the glass as if I could rip my real face back from my reflection.

A low, rumbling chuckle echoed behind me. I spun around, nearly tripping over my own feet, and there was my doppelganger staring back at me. He stood in the doorway of the stall, my broad shoulders filling out my leather jacket, my thick chest straining the fabric, my heavy boots thudding against the grimy tiles. He must have picked up my discarded clothes while I was distracted. His lantern jaw, my jaw, was framed by a perfectly manicured beard, and those piercing blue eyes I’d seen in every mirror every morning of my life now glinted with a wicked, knowing smirk. He was everything I’d been: tall, powerful, a fucking god among men. And I was left as nothing.

“Nice trade, huh?” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. He flexed his thick, meaty forearm, the one that had smashed through the stall wall like it was paper, and tossed my truck keys in the air, catching them with a calloused hand that used to be mine. “You don’t need all this anymore, do you, kid?”

“Give it back, you bastard!” I screamed, but my new voice sounded pitiful, a whiny squeak that made him laugh harder. I lunged at him, fists swinging, but my twig-like arms had no strength, my punches bouncing off his abs like I was swatting a brick wall. He easily grabbed my wrist with one hand, twisting it until I yelped, and shoved me back against the sink. The porcelain dug into my spine, and I struggled to catch my breath, my new body too fragile to fight back.

“Pathetic,” he growled, leaning in close. His breath smelled of cigarettes and whiskey, the same scent I’d carried for years. “You had your fun, didn’t you? Fucking your way through life, leaving a trail of broken bitches behind you. Now it’s my turn.” His smirk widened, and he ran a hand over his beard like he was savoring the feel of it. “This body was wasted on you.”

He turned and strode toward the exit, his heavy gait echoing through the empty bathroom. I scrambled after him, my bare feet slipping on the tiles, my breath hitching in a chest too small to hold my rage. Outside, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows over the dusty rest stop parking lot. My truck, my fucking pride and joy, sat waiting, its chrome glinting as a cruel reminder of who I used to be.

He hauled himself into the driver’s seat, my broad frame fitting perfectly where I’d spent countless hours on the road. I doubt I’d even be able to reach the door handle now. The engine roared to life, the same growl I’d heard every day for years. “Thanks for warming it up for me loser," he yelled over the roar of the engine as he gunned it, tires kicking up gravel as he peeled out. I sank to my knees on the pavement. My voice cracked as I screamed after him, but the sound was swallowed by the rumble of the truck fading into the distance.

I caught my reflection in a puddle nearby. Wide panicked brown eyes stared back at me. For a split second, I swore I saw his face, my face, laughing, before it vanished, leaving only this stranger’s pathetic gaze. My trembling fingers brushed my lips, still swollen from the brutal way he’d used my mouth. Was this some fucked-up curse? Had every girl I’d used and tossed aside wished this on me? Or was he something darker, a demon wearing my skin, taking my life while I was left with nothing?

The dust settled, and the rest stop was silent again. I was nobody now, trapped in a body that wasn’t mine. If only I hadn't let curiosity get the best of me.

-This time try to focus on my biceps, faggots like you love this stuff don't you?- I flexed my huge arms even harder, making my veins stand out, a spicy aroma wafted from my armpits and made my nose itch a little, But it seems I'm not the only one who could smell it.

I could feel how the real Kyle's huge, hairy belly was inches from my muscular back, But not only that I could feel how he was trying to disguise that he was actually floating his tiny, nasty cock between my firm ass. 

-Yes... sir we love it- Kyle said trying to pretend he wasn't doing anything kinky, I looked at our reflection in the mirror we both had in front of us and couldn't help but let out a smile at the thought that in just a couple of weeks I had bent in the mind of this arrogant gym coach.

-I thought to myself, “Kinky, I could let you rub your little cock in one of my armpits... when you finish the household chores of course- 

I'd like to say that I planned this body swap, but it was actually an accident, it was another one of those terrorist attacks with that experimental body swapping gas that was stolen some time ago from SwapCorp.

 One second I was almost passing out on the treadmill feeling like complete shit and the next I was posing in front of the bathroom mirror feeling as powerful as a Greek god, I thought I had passed out and right now my brain was creating the most erotic fantasy it could have created.

But as soon as I heard the screams coming from the gym I knew something wasn't right...at least to the rest of the guys out there, here everything was as perfect as the perfect powerful biceps I now had. 

Kyle worked at this gym as a trainer, although he spent more time talking to hot girls than helping me lose weight. So he was not pleased to end up in my fat, short, middle-aged body.

The government told us they were already working on a solution for this, but, there have been these terrorist attacks before and as far as I've known none of them have gotten their bodies back so I think it was just a lie so as not to scare people like Kyle. 

I thought it would be the last time he would look at my old greasy face, but it seems Kyle was attached to his body more than I imagined, The next day Kyle showed up at my apartment door to take me to the gym, in his own words “I'm not going to let a fat guy like you throw away all the time I've worked on MY BODY.”

It was easy enough to adapt to his routine, especially Because a week after we exchanged our bodies Kyle showed up again at my door With a couple of suitcases, “I can't trust a pig like you to neglect my diet, I'm sure you still have all that junk you like to eat around here...” But I knew the truth, Kyle had been fired from his job, who the fuck would trust him to train him now that he's the fattest guy in the whole gym? 

Later that night I found him on the couch sniffing my stinky gym shorts, It was so disgusting to see my body in such a pathetic position... but fun. 

I walked out of my room and with my big huge feet I stood in front of him, Kyle Faggot didn't even know what to say, he just lay there on the couch looking down at me with one hand on his dick and the other with my dirty boxers in the other near his face. 

Without saying a word I pulled my thick cock out of my shorts, which used to belong to the real Kyle and held it in front of his face, I could see how the spicy and dirty smell of my cock made him increase the rhythm with which he was breathing, He didn't even look me in the eyes, his gaze was totally fixed on the long and thick 10 inch cock that he used to use every day. 

-Come on pig... you are lucky that a stud like you let a pig like you suck my cock- Kyle held the base of my cock and slowly took it into his mouth savoring every drop of the pre seminal fluid, his face looked happy as if he had waited all his life for this moment.

I couldn't hold back any longer and grabbed him by what little thin hair he had left on his middle aged head and forced him to swallow my cock completely, I then began to fuck his mouth, my hips moved back and forth as Kyle jerked off, his cock was so pathetic he only needed 2 fingers to hold his little sausage. 

I had to admit that since coming in Kyle's body I had fucked so many women in such a short time that I had lost count, but there was something about my old, wet, dirty mouth that made me extremely horny. 

I pushed my cock deep into Kyle's mouth and filled it with my cum, then I pulled away from him letting him get some air, As soon as Kyle recovered he took my cock again and like a man lost in the desert Kyle cleaned my cock as if it were the last drops of water for miles.

I think something snapped in Kyle's head from that day on, The arrogant, cocky bodybuilder disappeared completely, He became more like a faithful dog that does what I tell him for a bone, I know Kyle would say it out loud, but I'm sure he likes his new life in my old body better. 

Maybe someday they will find a cure for this “incident” but I don't think Kyle will give up his new life at my side. 

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

Heyo! Hello again, I hope you like this story as well as the other stories of the "INCIDENT", where again a small terrorist group has released the experimental body swap gas, which can slightly alter people's minds at the time of the exchange, and of course this group is not led by me (wink wink) anyway, if you want to see more experiences of more people when exposed to the gas you can take a look at my previous stories or if you want to see even more you can support me on my page and have access to my stories, I just published a new story about 2 stepbrothers affected by the swap gas.

I leaned against the cool metal of the blue SUV, heart still hammering from the race—this perfect, stolen body’s lungs burning in the best way. The black 2XU trisuit clung to me like a second skin, soaked through with sweat, the fabric so thin and slick it might as well have been painted on. The zipper was yanked down to my sternum, letting the cool air hit the deep valley between my new pecs, sweat dripping down the cut lines of my chest and abs, pooling just above the waistband. Every breath made the suit pull tighter across my shoulders and biceps, the material stretching over pumped muscle that still twitched from the finish line.

I looked down at the race bib pinned to my chest—515, MACKENZIE—and smirked. That was his name, not mine, but fuck, it felt right now. The name taped across this jacked triathlete body I’d been jerking off to for months. My cock—his cock—thickened instantly against the tight compression shorts built into the suit, the damp fabric outlining every ridge and vein, pressing the head up against my lower abs so obviously I could see the bulge twitch when I flexed my quads.

I dragged the black “FINISH” towel slowly across my chest, feeling the soft terry cloth scrape over sensitive nipples, then lower, teasing the slick skin just above the suit’s waistband. My free hand slid down, cupping the heavy swell of my package through the soaked material, squeezing just enough to feel the heat pulsing underneath. “Fuck, Mackenzie,” I muttered to myself, voice low and rough in this deeper throat, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to feel this body from the inside.”

I was already rock-hard, the trisuit doing nothing to hide it, and I couldn’t wait to get somewhere private to really explore what I’d taken. I tossed the towel into the back of the SUV and slid into the driver’s seat, the trisuit riding up even tighter as I sat, the damp fabric grinding against my swollen cock and making me hiss through my teeth. Fuck, every little movement in this body was pure sex—the way the seat leather stuck to my sweat-slick thighs, the way my heavy pecs shifted when I gripped the wheel. I started the engine and pulled out of the lot, one hand already drifting down to palm myself through the suit as I drove, slow and deliberate.

It all started six months ago, at the city marathon. I’d gone just to watch, bored and scrolling through my phone, when I spotted him—Mackenzie—cutting through the pack like he owned the course. He was wearing a skimpy singlet and those tiny split shorts, the kind that barely covered his ass, soaked dark with sweat and clinging to every ridge of muscle. His legs were endless, quads pumping, calves flexing hard with every stride, sweat pouring down his carved torso and making the fabric translucent so I could see his nipples stiff against it. The way his abs contracted, the bulge in those shorts bouncing with each step—thick, obvious, swinging heavy—I couldn’t look away. I stood there at the sidelines, cock throbbing in my jeans, imagining what it’d feel like to have that power, that raw athletic perfection, to feel sweat dripping down my own jacked chest, to have that fat dick straining against tight gear.

From that day on, I was obsessed. I stalked his socials, jerked off nightly to his race pics, fantasizing about stealing it all—his body, his strength, his life. And now… now it was mine. I squeezed harder through the trisuit, groaning as pre-cum leaked and darkened the fabric even more. “All mine now, bro,” I muttered, grinning at my reflection in the rearview—his reflection. “Every sweaty, perfect inch.”I couldn’t keep my hands off this body the whole drive home. The trisuit was still plastered to me, but I’d yanked on a loose black tee from the back seat just to feel something new stretching over these shoulders and chest. The fabric was damp in seconds, clinging to the ridges of my pecs and abs underneath, dark patches spreading where sweat kept pouring.

I pulled over on a quiet side road, engine idling, and twisted toward the rearview mirror. My hair—his hair—was soaked, dark strands plastered to my forehead, dripping down my temples. I raised my right arm and flexed hard, watching the bicep balloon into a thick, peaked mound, veins snaking over the surface like cables. The black sleeve rode up instantly, stretched tight around the swell, barely containing the pump. Fuck, the definition was obscene—every fiber popping, the skin shiny with sweat, that tribal tattoo wrapping around the forearm like it was branding this perfect gun as mine now.

I groaned low, lips parted just like in the mirror, and brought my left hand up to grip the flexed bicep, fingers digging into the hot, hard muscle. It didn’t give—an iron peak that made my cock throb painfully against the trisuit underneath my shorts. Pre-cum was already soaking through layers, the head outlined and pulsing every time I squeezed harder. “Look at this fucking arm, Mackenzie,” I rasped to my reflection, voice thick with lust. “All that marathon training, all those miles… and now it flexes for me.”

I pumped the flex a few times—slow, deliberate—watching the bicep jump and swell even bigger, the sleeve straining like it might rip. My free hand slid down to adjust the bulge straining my shorts, stroking once, twice, through the fabric. I wasn’t going to make it home without blowing in this body for the first time. Not a chance. I barely made it through the front door of Mackenzie’s apartment—my apartment now—before I was tearing at the clothes. The black tee came off first, peeled away from my sweat-drenched torso with a wet slap as it hit the floor. Then the trisuit, zipper yanked all the way down, the soaked fabric fighting me as I shoved it off my shoulders, down my cum-slick abs, and kicked it free from my ankles. My cock sprang up hard and throbbing, a thick arc of pre-cum already stringing from the tip to my thigh.

I stood there in just the black Calvin Klein briefs I’d found folded in his drawer—tight, low-rise, the waistband sitting right on my V-line, cupping my heavy balls and shaft like they were made for this body. The fabric was already darkening at the pouch, stretched obscene over the ridge of my cockhead, every vein visible through the thin cotton. I was glistening head to toe, sweat still pouring from the race, skin shiny and pumped under the dim purple glow of the infrared sauna room I’d stumbled into.

“Fuuuck,” I groaned, voice echoing off the cedar walls as the heat hit me. I stepped inside, door clicking shut, the purple light casting shadows that carved my pecs and abs even deeper. My chest heaved, nipples stiff and sensitive, sweat beading and rolling down the deep split between my pecs, over the ridges of my eight-pack, pooling just above the CK waistband before soaking in. The horseshoe tattoo on my left arm flexed as I brought both hands up, dragging them slow over my slick chest, thumbs circling my nipples hard, then down—tracing every cut ab, fingers dipping into the grooves.

I turned sideways to the mirrored wall, watching this stolen body move—shoulders rolling, lats flaring, the briefs riding lower as my cock pulsed and leaked, the wet spot spreading wider. I hooked a thumb under the waistband, teasing it down just enough to let the thick base of my shaft peek out, veins throbbing, but I didn’t free it yet. Not yet. I wanted to savor how this perfect jacked triathlete body felt when it was this pumped, this sweaty, this fucking horny—trapped in tight designer briefs that couldn’t hide a thing.

I pressed a palm flat against my lower abs, sliding lower, cupping the bulge, squeezing until my knees almost buckled. “All mine to use now, Mackenzie,” I rasped, lips parted, eyes locked on my reflection. “Every drop of sweat, every hard inch.” I was so close already, just from touching what I’d stolen. The heat in the sauna had me edged so close I was shaking, but I forced myself to stop—thumb hooked under the soaked Calvin Klein waistband, cock throbbing against my palm, pre-cum stringing thick between my fingers. I couldn’t blow yet. Not when there was more of this body to worship, more places to take it.

I yanked the briefs back up, the wet cotton snapping against my shaft, and grabbed my phone. A text from Kalani—Mackenzie’s gym bro—was already waiting: “Yo bro, late night pump? Gym’s dead, come flex.” Fuck yes. I needed to see this stolen body next to real size, feel the comparison burn through me.

Twenty minutes later I walked into the empty gym, skin still flushed and glistening from the sauna, wearing nothing but those navy shorts I’d found in his gym bag—thin, loose, riding low on my hips, the drawstring dangling against my abs. No shirt. I wanted every inch on display.

Kalani was already there, massive in his black stringer tank, veins popping down his arms, deep bronze tan making his delts and chest look carved from something harder than muscle. He grinned when he saw me, dapping me up, his huge hand swallowing mine. “Looking lean as fuck, bro. Race shredded you even more.”

We stepped in front of the mirror wall, shoulder to shoulder. He was bigger—thicker traps, wider lats, pecs that pushed his tank out like slabs—but I was cut to shreds, every striation in my abs popping under the overhead lights, skin still shiny, V-line disappearing into the low waistband of my shorts. The contrast made my cock twitch hard; I could feel it thickening down my thigh, the loose fabric doing nothing to hide the growing outline.

He threw an arm around my bare shoulders, heavy and warm, and snapped the pic. “Just a little more tan than me, that’s all bro,” he laughed, flexing his free arm, bicep exploding next to my head. But I could feel his eyes drag down my torso, lingering on the sweat trail running from my chest to the waistband, on the way my shorts tented slightly as blood rushed south.

I smirked into the mirror, flexing my own core subtly, abs crunching deep, making the shorts slip another fraction lower. “Yeah, just the tan,” I muttered, voice low, but inside I was burning—feeling his bigger body pressed to mine, the heat, the size difference, knowing this perfect lean machine was mine to flex, mine to get hard in, mine to compare and worship next to an even bigger alpha. My cock was fully hard now, straining down the leg of the shorts, head pushing against the fabric, a dark wet spot already forming.

Kalani’s hand lingered on my shoulder a second longer than it needed to, thumb brushing the ridge of my trap. “Wanna hit chest?” he asked, eyes flicking down again.

Fuck yes. I wanted to feel these pumped pecs bounce under a heavy bench, feel his spotter hands on my bare skin, feel this stolen body pushed to its limit right next to his.

I left the gym with Kalani’s heavy hand still burning on my bare back, his spotter grip lingering way too long on my pumped pecs during those last bench reps. The pump was insane—chest swollen, veins mapping every inch, my navy shorts soaked through with sweat and pre-cum, the outline of my thick cock snaking down my thigh so obvious he definitely noticed. We dapped up slow, his eyes dragging down my shredded torso one last time before I bounced, promising “next time, bro.”

Next morning, the sun was already brutal. I’d crashed hard in Mackenzie’s bed, waking up rock-hard and leaking, the sheets twisted around my waist. I threw on the same navy shorts—no briefs underneath this time, just the thin fabric hugging my bare cock and balls—and hit the rooftop deck for a quick dip in his private plunge pool to cool off.

The water was ice-cold against my hot skin, shocking my nipples stiff and making my abs clench tight. I hauled out dripping, every drop tracing the cuts of my chest and obliques, running down into the low waistband. The shorts clung instantly, darkened and plastered to my thighs, the head of my cock pushing visibly against the wet nylon, a thick ridge that twitched every time I moved.

I grabbed the sunglasses from the side table, slid them on, and couldn’t resist—threw one leg up high, foot planted on the railing, opening my hips wide to feel the stretch in my quads and groin. Fuck, this body was flexible—hamstrings long and lean, the high kick pulling the soaked shorts even tighter across my ass and bulge, fabric riding up so half my balls peeked out the leg hole. Water streamed down my raised thigh, over the horseshoe tattoo, dripping off my calf.

I stuck my tongue out at my phone camera, snapping the pic, but really I was just reveling in it—feeling the sun bake my wet skin, the breeze teasing my stiff nipples, my free hand sliding down to grip the back of my thigh, fingers digging into hard muscle while my cock throbbed hard against the clinging shorts, pre-cum mixing with pool water into a slick mess.

“Goddamn, Mackenzie,” I groaned, voice husky, dropping the leg only to flex both quads hard, watching them pop and separate under the shiny wet skin. The city skyline blurred behind me—I didn’t care. All I cared about was how this stolen athlete body felt when it was drenched, stretched, and aching to be touched deeper. I was gonna blow right here on the deck if I didn’t stop teasing myself soon.

I stumbled inside from the deck, skin still dripping pool water, cock throbbing so hard it hurt with every step. The navy shorts were plastered to me, but I kicked them off in the hallway, rooting through Mackenzie’s drawer until I found these loose olive-green sweats—soft, baggy, the drawstring loose enough that they hung dangerously low on my hips, the waistband barely clinging to the deep V of my abs. No briefs. Nothing between my bare dick and the fleece lining.

I grabbed a cold orange Gatorade from the fridge, the bottle sweating in my grip as I leaned against the cool marble counter. The kitchen light hit my bare torso perfectly—chest still pumped from yesterday’s gym session, nipples hard from the AC, every ridge of my abs casting shadows down to where the sweats barely covered the base of my shaft. I twisted the cap off slow, watching the scorpion tattoo flex on my forearm, the cowboy boot and hat ink curling around my bicep as I brought the bottle to my lips and chugged. Citrus flooded my mouth, some spilling down my chin, streaking over my pecs, dripping off a nipple and tracing the center line of my abs straight into the waistband.

“Fuck it,” I growled, voice rough in this throat. I’d been edging for days in this body—teasing, flexing, comparing—but I was done waiting.

I shoved the sweats down just enough to free my cock, the heavy length slapping up against my abs with a wet smack, pre-cum stringing thick from the head to my skin. Nine thick inches, veiny and flushed, balls heavy and drawn up tight. I wrapped my tattooed hand around the shaft—fingers barely meeting—and started slow, long strokes, thumb swirling over the slick head on every upstroke. My free hand roamed my chest, pinching a nipple hard, then dragging down the sweat-slick abs, feeling every hard ridge jump under my fingers.

I turned sideways to the dark glass of the oven door, watching my reflection stroke this stolen cock—shoulders wide, lats flaring, the green sweats pooled low around my thighs, framing my pumped quads and the obscene bounce of my dick in my fist. Faster now, grip tightening, hips thrusting into my hand like I was fucking it. “This body’s mine,” I panted, eyes locked on the mirror image of Mackenzie’s perfect face twisted in raw lust. “This cock… these abs… this cum… all fucking mine.”

My balls tightened, spine arching as I flexed everything—chest popping, abs crunching into bricks, forearm veins bulging around my shaft. I aimed low, stroking hard and fast, the wet slap echoing in the quiet kitchen. The orgasm hit like a freight train—thick ropes shooting across my abs, splattering up my chest, one shot hitting my chin. I milked it slow, groaning deep, every pulse coating this perfect torso in hot cum, marking it inside and out.

I slumped against the counter, breathing hard, cum cooling on my skin, cock still twitching in my hand. I dragged a finger through the mess on my abs, brought it to my lips, tasting myself—tasting him. “Forever now, bro,” I whispered to the empty kitchen, smirking at my wrecked, glistening reflection. “This body’s never going back.”

The goo that was Alex slithered across the city, guided by instinct toward the Man City training ground. It was post-session, the sun dipping low, and Ruben was alone in the locker room, fresh from drills. Inspired by those pics Ruben posted—sweat-soaked black compression shirt clinging to his ripped chest and abs like a second skin, camo shorts riding up his powerful quads, orange boots kicked off beside the bench. His dark hair matted, beard trimmed sharp, body glistening under the fluorescent lights. Ruben peeled off the shirt, revealing those chiseled pecs and a trail of hair leading down to his waistband. He tugged at the camo shorts, letting them drop, his thick cock flopping free—semi-hard from the adrenaline rush, veiny and uncut, the tip slightly flared like an invitation.

The goo pooled on the floor, inching closer, vibrating with excitement. Ruben didn't notice, stepping into the shower stall, hot water cascading over his bronze skin, steam filling the air. He soaped up, hands roaming his body—scrubbing his broad shoulders, down his abs, then gripping his dick for a quick stroke, grunting as it thickened in his palm. Pre-cum beaded at the slit, mixing with the suds.

That's when the goo struck. It surged up the drain, reforming into a tendril, slick and eager. Ruben leaned against the tile, eyes closed, jerking slowly—his cock now fully erect, 8 inches of throbbing meat, balls heavy and swinging. The goo targeted the tip, slipping into the urethra like liquid silk. Ruben gasped, his hand freezing mid-stroke. "What the fu—ahh!" The invasion was electric— the goo pushing in, stretching the sensitive opening, filling his shaft inch by inch. It felt like the best blowjob mixed with something forbidden, pleasure spiking as the slime coated his inner walls, pulsing against his prostate from inside.

Ruben's knees buckled, his free hand slapping the wall for support. "Oh shit... feels so... good?" Confusion mixed with ecstasy as the goo flooded deeper, worming through his veins, hijacking nerves. His cock twitched wildly, leaking more pre as the tendril expanded, making his dick swell even bigger, veins bulging. The goo reached his balls, seeping into the sacs, making them churn with alien heat—cum production ramping up unnaturally. Ruben moaned loud, hips bucking involuntarily, fucking his own hand as the possession took hold.

Deeper it went, up through his core, wrapping around his spine, infiltrating his brain. Flashes of Alex's memories merged with Ruben's—childhood games, trophy lifts, now twisted with Alex's fantasies of being the star. Ruben's eyes rolled back, body convulsing in orgasmic waves without cumming yet. "No... get out... fuck, yes!" Contradicting groans escaped as the goo dominated, synapses firing with pure bliss. Finally, the last of the slime absorbed, Ruben's body went rigid—then relaxed, a smirk curling his lips that wasn't his own.

From that day, "Ruben" played like a demon on the pitch, but off it? Alex lived the dream—fucking fans in secret, flexing in mirrors, owning every inch of that athletic frame. The goo had won.

Swapped bodies with my hot dentist… and fuck, I’m throbbing already.

I came in for a routine root canal check-up, already half-hard just from the thought of those tight green scrubs stretched across his broad chest. The second I sat in that chair, my cock betrayed me—pushing obscenely against my pants. His eyes dropped right to the bulge. He smirked for half a second… then blink.

Now I’m him.

I’m staring at myself—no, at his reflection—in the mirror of his own office, wearing his fitted green scrubs. The thin fabric clings to my new, muscular arms and chest, the V-neck dipping low enough to show a hint of collarbone and chest hair. The pants are snug around my thick thighs, the material soft and slightly worn from a long day of work. And these black nitrile gloves… fuck. They’re still warm from his hands, tight around my fingers, shiny, slightly sticky. The medical smell mixed with his natural musk is driving me insane.

My cock is rock-hard inside his underwear, leaking like a faucet. I can feel the warm, slippery precum soaking through the front, making the fabric cling to my swollen head. The scent is getting stronger—raw, horny, masculine. Every shift on this rolling stool makes the wet patch rub against me, teasing me more.

I’m so fucking horny in these scrubs. The gloves make everything feel filthier. I squeeze my bulge through the green pants with one gloved hand, the smooth, slick material gliding over the throbbing outline. The other gloved hand slides under the scrub top, pinching a nipple while I grind slowly against my palm. The rubbery texture, the way the gloves snap tight against my skin… it’s pure kink. I’m keeping them on. No way I’m taking these off.

I need to rub one out right here in his office—stroke this thick, borrowed cock with gloved hands while still wearing his scrubs. I can already imagine the wet sounds, the way the black gloves will look wrapped around my shaft, shiny with precum.

After I blow a massive load into these soaked underwear, I’m firing up Grindr as him. New profile pic in these exact scrubs and gloves. Someone’s getting railed by a dentist tonight—scrubs still on, gloves never coming off.

Four months have passed since Mr. Reynolds stole Cooper’s body, and the old man has shown no signs of ever returning it.

He has fully taken over my best friend’s life. Cooper’s once-straight, athletic routine has been replaced by something much more open and sexual. Reynolds now walks around the neighbourhood and gym shirtless or in tight tanks whenever he can, proudly displaying Cooper’s hairy chest and muscular build. He carries himself with a constant, shameless confidence that Cooper never had.

He’s also started dating someone.

The guy is Tyler, one of Cooper’s old straight friends from the group. A cocky, tattooed tradie who used to come over for backyard cricket and beers. At some point, one of Reynolds’ perverted old mates performed the same ritual on Tyler and took his body too. Now the two stolen bodies are together, living as an openly gay couple.

From what I’ve seen, they’re inseparable. They go out together, act very affectionate in public, and seem completely comfortable in their new dynamic. Reynolds and the man now wearing Tyler’s body spend most of their time using their stolen bodies for pleasure, something that’s become obvious from the way they behave and the occasional photos Reynolds sends.

The real Cooper and the real Tyler are both still trapped inside their own bodies, forced to watch as two dirty old men use their young, muscular forms to live out every fantasy they want.

He continues to parade Cooper’s body around without shame, showing off the hairy chest, the abs, the arms, while enjoying his new boyfriend in Tyler’s stolen skin. Every new photo or update is another reminder that my best friend’s life and body now belong completely to our creepy old neighbour.

And from the way things look, Mr. Reynolds has never been happier.

Epilogue

Yesterday, Reynolds sent me one final photo, cooper standing shirtless in the bathroom, towel hanging low, hairy chest pushed out as he smirked at the camera.

The message read:

“Still the best decision I ever made. This body never gets old. By the way… I’ve been watching you lately. You’ve got a nice build too. Might be time for my mate to try on a new suit. Keep your phone close 😉”

He ended it with a voice note in Cooper’s voice, low and mocking:

“See you soon, mate.”

I stared at the message, stomach sinking.

Ever since I got my hands on that chronivac thing, my frat has been fucking unstoppable. I’ve turned every single member of ours into a bronzed musclegod while taking down a peg the guys from the other frats. Hell, I even let my bros use my laptop sometimes to go out and have fun changing idiots on campus, cause they’re my frat and I trust them.

These two idiots are Marty and Dom, they used to be ever so chubby, a result of a car crash injury that left them both unnable to exercise for a couple do months, but when I got the Chronivac the first thing I did was make them BIG again, and maybe increase some of their attributes while I was at it. They were immensely grateful, and I thought I had earned myself allies for life. So imagine my surprise when I woke up, with the two of them staring at me from the foot of my bed with my laptop in their hands.

“Good morning?” I said, confused

“Good morning, captain jackass!” Marty answered

“Shut up Marty. What the hell are you two doing?” I asked them, but already having a guess in mind

“We’re taking over the ship, broski. Me and Marty over here decided that it’s unfair that you get to hog all the power of the Chronivac for yourself, thinking you can make rules like “Don’t use it to make girls suck our dicks” or “Don’t make global level changes”, so we’re taking you down so me and Marty can be co-kings!” Dom said, with a smirk on his face

“Yeah, and you’re gonna get turned into some dumb ass faggot who only thinks of sucking marty and dom dick, sucking marty and dom dick and sucking marty and dom dick!” Marty laughed

Oh for christ’s sake, I really shouldn’t have trusted these morons.

“Marty, Dom, come on guys, I was nice enough to make you guys actually notice the changes, and I literally let you use it all the time. I keep those rules in place so just things don’t get out of control, or do you want to get the attention of other users. Hand me the phone and I’ll forget this ever happened.” I told them, calmly stating my intention

“Like hell we are! Here, wanna do the honors of transforming Mason the Frat King into Mason the Frat Dump, Marty?” Dom asked, still laughing

“Yuhuh! Bye bye, big man in charge, enjoy being our dumb bitch!” Marty said, laughing as he pressed the enter button

Then, there was a bright flash of light from the screen, and I heard them scream as I let out a hearty laugh.

“What’s with the noise, fags?” I said, still laughing to myself “Did you dumbfucks really think I’d not take some precautions as to avoid getting betrayed like this? It’s a secret, but this has happened before. That cock sucker Anthony from Kappa Kappa Tau was my right hand man, but he tried to turn me into a fag boy and It bounced right back at ‘im. I’m the Chronivac Master here, and don’t you forget that.”

Life on a college campus can be fun and exciting. Especially when you're a Jock All Stars.

Was towards the end of my senior year and money was getting a little tight. That's when I saw the sign. Takr part of a medical research project and get paid for it. They were looking for Jock athletes to do somethings. But it looks like it was pretty easy. I grabbed my phone and set everything up. I could use the money. And this study look pretty easy.

Never been to this side of the campus where all the science buildings are.

I scribble the address on a piece of paper. Im pretty sure this is the building.

I found the elevator and rang for it and I pulled the paper out of my pocket to see which floor I was supposed to go to. 2B studio 3

I'd never have guessed that it was the basement of the building 2 floors is down.

I kind of pump is as my first scientific study.

The door is open and I got off the elevator I started walking down the hallway looking for the location I was supposed to report to. There is number #3

I walked in and the place was kind of weird. How to say expecting something a little more like a doctor's office or something not this looks like it was just the lab.

That's when I saw him. He was a little guy probably around 5 '4". It had to be him, only person here. And he wearing aclab coat.

Excuse me sir,I'm here for the scientific study. I must have surprised him, to jump across the room when he saw me.

He looked up at me and was quite taken.

Excuse me sir. I didn't mean to startle you. My name is Matt Rogers. I'm the Jock here for the scientific study. The poster from The Commons area I called yesterday.

He repeated back to me. Oh the scientific study. He was looking at me up and down. Sizing me up. All muscle standing before him. First time at Jock wasn't a threat to him. Jocks and nerds really don't have the Great friendship.

Matt Rogers you said. I'll cleared my whole schedule just for you.

So Doc, I get paid for all this.

Yes Matt you'll be paid the price.

That sounded weird, maybe he said it different and I heard him wrong. All I know is I'm getting paid.

He disappeared for a minute and then return. He said he could set my bag down right behind me and we'll get started.

As soon as my back was turned. He made he move and stuck a needle in my neck and down I went.

He dragged me off to another room and strip me of my clothes. Something tells me I'm at the wrong address and I shouldn't be here.

I started coming around I found myself stripped naked and in Chains. Now I know I'm in the wrong place. I was way too weak to even fight it.

I tried getting up but I couldn't move. I was able to turn my head and I saw the doc standing across the room. He was holding up my green polo shirt that I had on holding it up to himself and said. I can't wait to wear this.

He grabbed my shorts then and held them up himself. They are quite large for him to try to wear. Holding up my gym shoes seeing a size 12 you seem so excited.

I saw him going through my wallet and pulled out my driver's license. 6'2, 185lbs.

I was so confused I must been from the drugs was he planning on wearing my clothes. What did I get myself into.

He saw that I was awake and walked over. In Prime physical shape you said. Your muscular tone is amazing. And you're very handsome.

I looked up at him trying to get free from the chains but I was too weak. What the f*** is going on! I said.

Shhhh. We don't need that language used here. Besides this room is soundproof nobody can hear you.

That's when I knew I was in the wrong place I was at the wrong address.

The way he looked at me. The way is hands rubbed over my arms, my shoulders my pecs, my back my glutes.

Scientific study. He said it was a weird tone. More like a science experiment. And went it all done. He will be the Victor and you'll becpay the price.

You start injecting me with different needles and fluids I tried screaming but I was just too weak.

You stepped away for a bit as all the injections took effect. Multiple injections and every muscular group I had. After a while I thought even weaker like my body was breaking down.

I can't feel my face moving closer to the platform. He undid the chains saying I was no longer a threat to him. And rolled me over onto my back.

He put a metal ring around my head with wires thatscleading to a computer.

He turned it on and it felt like my brains are being scrambled. He was collecting all my knowledge and memories for his use later.

As this was going on he started poking at my body. I once lean muscles, seemed to liquefy.

He started sticking needles with tubes into my biceps my triceps. Into my pectoral muscle, my abs. Soon my body look like a human pincushion. All these tubes coming out of me. He open my mouth and push this tube down my throat and had me bite down on this device.

He disappeared for a few minutes and when they returned all he was wearing was just the lab coat. He removed all his clothes.

Seems all these tubes that are connected to me run into this cabinet. The metal ring around my head all the wires seem to go in that direction to.

They're video monitors and cameras all over the place cleaning at me pointing at the inside of what's going to happen inside that cabinet.

He stripped from the lab coat, and I watch as he climb inside the cabinet. I can't move but I can see the cabinet. It shows he present height, weight and measurements.

Show as the door closed. The machine turned on. I became a giant juice body. With all my muscle tone broken down into a fluid . It was being drained from me and into the cabinet.

Feeling the vacuum my body being drained. What did I do. What is he doing to me.

The pumps stopped when it was done.

Damm the hurt. The machine shuts off and yanks the needles from my body and the machine recoiled the tube back in. Next a cabinet incase my face and body.

A tingling feeling around my head. As it removed all hsurs from my head. And feeling a blade on my skin. What can I say. It felt like my skin was a giant band-aid being ripped from my body. Seeing going through a tub to the cabinet. Something went into my mouth and started shaking me vigorously then I heard pings sound from another tube from me to the cabinet. Pullingcall my teeth.. Then everything went quiet.

I am was so weak, so drained. Nothing was left of me pretty much. The weird thing is I wasn't feeling any pain.

The table I was laying started moving up right facing the cabinet. All the stuff around me retracted back.

I don't know how much time in past. And all the things that I've been through. But soon the cabinet doors open and he stepped out.

But it wasn't the guy in the lab coat. The guy that stepped out. It was me. Rights of the hair on his head to my pearly white teeth.

He said he's been picked on Jock's all his life this is just way to get even. I just happened to show up at the right time. And put everything that made me me is now him.

The reflection I could see of me. The was nothing much left. I felt nothing.

He was me right down to the my voice and mannerisms. My whole life as me stood there.

He pushed a button. Whatever was left of me is starting to break down into a form of protein shake. He will drink. Filling in any gaps.

He got dressed in my clothes. He was me from head to toe.

What was left of me. He pour into a sports bottle and drank me on his way to the gym

He rang into his frat brothers and worked out.

The only big change in Matt Rogers 2.0. Much smarter then before. And he was more friendly to the campus nerds.

Xで見つかりました

@AndrophileStuff

Part of the Christmas TF story exchange, for @transformee, enjoy!

~~~

“Staying late on Christmas Eve?” The amused voice of his boss came from somewhere over his shoulder. 

Adam barely looked up from his computer screen, deep in working on new plans instead of thinking about the day he had ahead of him tomorrow dealing with family. Should he be at home getting ready for Christmas Day? Maybe, but he liked his job at LifeCorp working on all the tech they used for their various transformative ventures. 

“Yeah, yeah I’ve just got one more thing to finish up before heading home.” He called back. “Then I promise I’ll get going.”

“Alright, but promise you’ll actually have a break this year! You’ll really earn this year’s bonus.” His boss’s voice grew more distant as he left the building for the evening, leaving Adam alone. 

He knew he only had so long before he really had to go home and stop working for the day. If he could weasel out of the plans that had been made for him with his extended family he could always come back and find something else to do. He’d be grasping at straws of work that didn’t really need doing yet though; even what he was currently working on was practically done. So he worked a little more then finally retired for the evening, praying he’d get through whatever little annoyances always plagued his Christmas day. 

~~~

Adam, You’re probably rather confused right now, but don’t worry! This is all intentional, you’re in the body you’re supposed to be in. After being with us for 20 years we’d like to do something to thank you for all the hard work you’ve given us here at LifeCorp. As one of our dedicated engineers we value all the hard work you’ve put into making this company what it is today. It might have felt like we never noticed everything you did, but trust us we were paying attention! All the time you’ve spent developing and repairing our machines for so many years hasn’t gone unnoticed, so it’s time we reward you for that.  Hence the new body you find yourself in! You’ll be more than familiar with how we work here at LifeCorp after spending such a chunk of your life with us, but for the sake of clarity we’ll go into some detail. This here body is a donation from one of our customers, a life he didn’t want anymore. We relocated him into something more comfortable for him, or rather her now, so this one was up for grabs. You’ll have his name and identity, his money and the rich lifestyle that comes with it. All yours, no strings attached. You’re Tristan Yates now, for good! And don’t worry about your old self or life. We’ve already got someone primed to take over from you so we don’t lose your expertise and muscle memory knowledge, so Adam is in good hands with us.  Relax and enjoy your Christmas bonus! From all of us here at LifeCorp, Jamal Social Media and Communications Manager

Adam stared down at the letter that’d been left on the bedside table when he woke up in disbelief.

It’d been coming up to Christmas and he’d been getting himself ready for another year of making pleasantries with extended family he didn’t like and dodging questions about his weight and lack of a romantic partner. He worked hard and didn’t make a fuss, that was enough for him. He’d never needed for a huge life outside of just getting his job done then enjoying a quiet life doing whatever he pleased, it was enough. Sure maybe other people like the ones that came though his place of employment had more interesting lives, but he’d never had a need for all that fuss; at least not enough need to ever bother with it. 

So now all this was… a lot. 

Just as the letter said he’d always been fine working and not really being taken much notice of, it’d never bothered him. Head down and earn his paycheck doing something he took pride in, that was his MO. But now to be told he was being given such a fine specimen of a body with no strings attached, it was a lot to take in so suddenly for someone that wasn’t used to being this attractive. 

He’d seen his fair share of transformations and body swaps and all manner of other things in the two decades he’d been working at LifeCorp, but he’d never pictured himself as one to experience them himself. Even when the employee discounted changes at Valentine’s Day came around he hadn’t taken advantage of the offer. He just wasn’t that bothered. 

Now though… Now he could feel the strength behind having a body that was sculpted to perfection. One that had every inch covered in muscle and absolutely no trace of the extra fat he used to have. He was out of his depth in this ‘Tristan’ guy’s body, but it was certainly an incredible body he couldn’t resist touching.

He squeezed his chest and ran his hands down his abs, reveling in the joy of being able to do that for the first time in a while. It wasn’t like he’d been fat exactly before, but he certainly wasn’t in shape enough to have a stomach as flat and tight as his now was. He soon moved on to flexing his arms and looking at himself in the bedroom mirror by the bed, pulling all sorts of poses he’d seen various men that looked like this pull. The self exploration continued downwards to thick thighs, a round ass, and an impressive bulge. This body really ws perfect all over. Maybe he’d lost a few inches of height at the 5’10 he now stood at, but that was such a minor thing compared to everything he’d gained. 

There was a youthful energy that hadn’t been there before too. He hadn’t noticed it at first when he’d woken up and found the letter, but now he had a chance to get the size though his head it finally clicked into place. There wasn’t the ache in his lower back he’d grown used to, or the slight twinge in his knee whenever he bent it. He was young again, at least 10 years if he had to guess. The salt and pepper of his hair had been swapped for a lighter tone not yet worn by age, once more reminding him of the age he’d lost in this gift. 

“Tristan Yates… Is this really me?” Adam sat up and sighed, taking brief note of the new tone to his voice. “Can I really just be him?”

It wasn’t like he had any huge attachments to himself. He didn’t hold a lot of love for his family and didn’t have a significant other to speak of… The more he thought about it the more he started to realise there wasn’t really anything tying him to being Adam. He could be this Tristan Yates guy, or at least he could try to be. LifeCorp would deal with any loose ends in whatever way he’d never bothered to ask about with the people that used the machines he helped create and maintain. 

So maybe this really was a gift after all, even if he hadn’t asked for it. 

Over the next few days Adam would have a lot of time to adjust to not being himself anyway. To being Tristan. 

The biggest discovery was the lack of knowledge of the skills he’d honed over the last decades. Gone completely. He couldn’t even solve the most basic of fluid dynamics equations anymore no matter how hard he thought about it. Instead he found himself in Tristan’s, in his, home gym working out to keep his body in good shape. That there was some physical instinct telling him how to do. It was like all that knowledge had been left behind.

A quick message to LifeCorp confirmed as much. His knowledge and skills had been left behind; after so many years of service it was apparently his time to be free of responsibilities and just enjoy life. He wasn’t going to argue with that, though it did make him a little nervous to be giving up everything he once knew.

So on he would have to go, as unsure as he might me. 

He wasn’t himself anymore and that sure was scary, especially when he hadn’t been given a choice to become this young jock, but what else was there to do? Workout and see where this new body took him. See what life as Tristan could be instead of Adam. 

~~~

“And that’s a wrap! You can relax now Tristan.” The photographer let his camera hang around his neck once again and smiled. “Think we get just about everything for this latest run, so you’re good to head off whenever you want. Thanks for agreeing to do this.”

Flexing for a camera whilst his old body stood to one side wasn’t where Tristan pictured the first day of the new year going, yet here he was. A week of settling into his new reality and he’d been asked if he’d be willing to come back to LifeCorp, only this time as a model. One fresh haircut and beard trim later to tidy up and he’d been set in front of a camera to get every angle of his new body captured. Jamal, the guy that ran the public image of the company, loved success stories like his. And it was so rare to have both the before and after available and willing, especially that of a former employee that now had all the time in the world on his hands. 

He relaxed when he was told things were done, then walked over and grabbed his shirt again. “No worries, I should still be the one thanking you all for giving me this. I mean it’s incredible.” He said and he pulled the tight athleticwear over his muscular torso. “To think I’m so different now

The photographer shrugged and glanced up from his camera. “I mean from what I hear you deserved it after 20 years here. New thing Jamal is spearheading, getting rewards for those that deserve it within the company. Something like that anyway. Part of the whole branding next year, I’m doing a bunch of shoots with current and former employees that they’ve helped like you.” He looked over at where Tristan’s old body stood still and vacant. “Got plans to use it as training for the new engineers I think. A month in your old body and they’ll learn more than they could in 10 years, that’s the rumour around.”

Tristan was well aware his detailed knowledge of engineering had been left in his old life. Try as he might, he hadn't been able to remember any of it this past week. Even after he’d spoken to LifeCorp and they’d told him it was intentional and explained their plan a small part of him had still hoped to find a trace of that lost intellect. It should have stressed him out when he didn’t, but he found it was rather the opposite. It was relaxing once he’d started to accept it and worry less. Being free of all the worries and complicated knowledge he used to possess was freeing in a way he’d never imagined possible. He could just focus on enjoying himself now, without the concern of his years of expertise going to waste. 

“So I hear, but it’s nothing to do with me anymore.” He couldn’t hide the slight grin that spread over his face as he spoke, a glee he was still getting used to at being young and hot. “See you around man.” He walked off towards the exit to the studio with a final wave and not a second look back at his former body. 

By the time he was home half an hour later Tristan knew that would most likely be the last time he ever saw any trace of the life he’d once lived. Adam, that version of himself he’d once been, was gone. The out of shape workaholic side of himself had been separated away and left only his full potential as a young, rich, handsome stud. Sure he’d still grow to take the age again he used to be, but now he was going to actually put some effort into his body instead of work; he’d be a handsome DILF by the time he got to his 40’s again.

That was decades away though. For now? For now he got to be Tristan Yates, handsome rich young stud with a world of possibilities at his fingertips.