achilles

One of the best things I ever did for myself was hire a dead man to act as my life coach. Well, maybe "hire" isn't the best word-- it's not like Wyatt cares about money anymore-- but he experiences life inside of my body, and in exchange he helps me develop good habits. Honestly, I also think the satisfaction of helping people helps him cope with his newfound immortality, but I'd never say that to his face. I thought it was just an elaborate shitpost when I read the ad he posted online, but I'm glad I took him up on his offer. As someone who struggled with severe depression, Wyatt's aid has been a gamechanger. It's been a lot of work, so I'm proud to say I've almost graduated. Back in the beginning he was possessing me almost 24/7 to help me out with things like healthy eating and good hygiene, but now he usually limits flesh time to my gym workouts so he can make sure I'm using the proper form.

Although, ever since Wyatt found out that I'm a gay man who's never had the courage to go out on dates, he's also been trying to act as a dating coach with… mixed success. He means well, but mostly I think he's just happy to have an excuse to possess hot men without feeling guilty about it. If the person isn't willing to be possessed, he can only control them for about an hour or so-- enough time to log onto a computer or have some fun, but not enough time to actually live someone else's life. Wyatt doesn't like to talk about himself very much, but I've gotten the impression that he was very lonely before he figured out how to navigate around the limit of his abilities. No one can see or hear him when he's in his ghost form, so I can only imagine how lonely he used to be.

"One more set of bicep curls, and then I think I'll be done for the day," Wyatt said. "I want to make sure I have enough time to rinse off all of this sweat before my date." He often spoke out loud, over-narrating his actions so that I would know what to expect. It was different when the two of us were alone, but in public he preferred to be subtle about our arrangement. 'Done for the day' was the code phrase that let me know when he was going to leave my body, just in case the sudden restoration of control caused me to lose my balance. And 'my date' meant… well, like I said, Wyatt had taken it upon himself to act as my dating coach. He wanted me to get comfortable interacting with attractive men that I used to think were out of my league, and I certainly wasn't about to turn down the easy sex.

Once I was done showering, I sat down on the bench by my locker to scroll on my phone while Wyatt searched for a good candidate for possession. We were usually at the mercy of whoever happened to be in the locker room at the time-- there were always a handful of men milling about in the sauna, but most of them were suburban fathers using the space to socialize.

"What do you think about this one, Luke?" I looked up to see Jake Hopkins staring down at me, a huge smirk on his face. He was somehow even more massive now than he'd been back in High School, when he used to beat me up whenever he caught me staring too long at his dump truck of an ass. The facial hair was new, but his backwards cap had been his trademark for as long as I'd known him. "Pretty sick, right?" he said, flexing his biceps for emphasis. "The cock is nothing special, but that's fine-- this body screams power bottom." It was clearly Wyatt in control, but that wasn't enough to prevent the flood of bad memories.

I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate as I began to recall all of the various ways Jake had made my teenagers years a living hell. "That's… no, he's… pineapple, I know him," I managed to say, frantically waving him away. I could see the look of apology in Wyatt's eyes, and he quickly retreated without any further discussion. For that I was grateful, because I don't know if I could have had any sort of conversation with him while he wears Jake's face. The thought of having sex with one of my old high school bullies was… honestly, I would have thought I'd be more into it. But seeing his face like that, the painful memories were too fresh. Maybe Isaac or Ben, but not him. Not Jake.

One of the first things Wyatt had taught me were breathing exercises for when I was too far gone inside my own head, and for that I was thankful. I gripped my knees until my fingertips hurt, focusing on the rise and fall of my chest with each deep breath. Eyes closed, back straight, feet firmly planted. All the way in, all the way out. It was a little embarrassing, the way that the mere presence of Jake was enough to send me into a tailspin, but… at the same time, I was proud at the way I had been able to handle it without fully freaking out. A few months ago, I would have spent the next several hours replaying all of my worst memories on repeat until I cried myself to sleep. Now? Now, I had managed to calm myself back down and it had only been a few minutes. Wyatt was big on trying to get me to acknowledge the small wins, and this was definitely one of them.

I opened my eyes to see one of the gym regulars looking over at me with a concerned look on his face. "Hey, man. You doin' okay?" he said. I hadn't expected Wyatt to find another body so fast, but I certainly wasn't complaining.

I smiled back at him, with what I hoped was a calm and collected expression. "I am now, yeah. It's been a rough day, is all," I said, practicing my white lie skills. This was a much better choice for Wyatt, though I didn't know this body's name. I had first noticed him a few weeks ago, and he was one of my favorite guys to ogle out of the corner of my eye. I'd even caught him checking out some of the other guys in the gym once or twice. It was nice to see confirmation that it wasn't just me who did that.

"Okay, well, cool. That's good to hear," he said, nodding his head. He hesitated for a few moments, and then continued. "Hey, while I'm talking to you, I hope this isn't weird to say but… I've noticed you around for the past few months, and you've been making some really good progress." He gave me a supportive pat on the shoulder, which felt really nice. "I know it can be discouraging, given how long it takes to see some actual physical changes to your body, so… I just wanted you to feel seen. I see you putting in the work, and it'll definitely pay off if you're able to keep at it."

I could feel myself starting to blush-- how could I not, after a compliment like that? I wanted to brush it off, but I also know that Wyatt would start yelling at me if I tried to reject his kind words. "Well… thank you, I appreciate it. And... while we're both saying weird things to each other, I have to admit I've noticed you as well. I mean, you're very handsome, so how could I not?" His eyebrows shot straight up at the compliment, but he otherwise said nothing. "Which... maybe I'm totally misreading you, but... would you like to come over to my place, and we could get to know each other better?"

His confusion shifted into a wide smile. "I... wow. This turned out to be easier than I thought," he said, chucking to himself. "And yeah, I'd like that. I'd really like that. I need a few moments to shower and change out of my gear, but uhh… yeah. How about I meet you outside in the parking lot, and I'll just follow you back to your place." With that, he gave me a playful fistbump and then walked away, presumably to use his locker. Which... did not make sense, now that I stopped to think about it-- how did Wyatt know where the man's locker would be? I didn't think he had the ability to access the memories of the people he possessed.

"Luke, that wasn't me!" One of the middle-aged men had stepped out of the sauna to come talk to me, grinning from ear to ear-- this was the real Wyatt, I realized. "I was still looking around the gym trying to find a good option for you. Whoever that guy is, that was all you!" He smiled at me as I felt my stomach begin to lurch. If that man wasn't Wyatt, then I had just… oh my God. If I had thought for even a moment he wasn't possessed, that he might have said no? I would never have-- of course he was surprised at my confidence, I didn't realize he had free will!

"Hey, no. Look at me," Wyatt said, snapping his fingers in front of my face. I wanted to be angry but I had to admit it was an effective way to startle me out of my thoughts. "Don't overthink this. Easier said than done, I know, but hey-- he's just some random hot guy. It's not like he's your future husband yet. So breathe, okay? If he's the right guy for you, he'll find your nerves endearing rather than annoying. And if he's not, have some fun and then part ways amiably. Just relax and enjoy this."

"You're right," I said, after a few more rounds of steady breathing. "This is what we've been working towards, after all." I stared up into his proud smile, and I couldn't help but laugh. No matter what body Wyatt was wearing, his facial expressions always gave him away. "Thank you."

"It's what I'm here for," he said, patting me on the shoulder with his body's calloused hands. "Alright, well, I'm gonna drop this guy back off in the sauna, but I just had to catch you before you said something awkward. I'll leave you alone for the evening so that you can enjoy your date. Have fun!" Wyatt left, leaving me alone with my nerves. How did I manage to ask someone out by accident? I decided to wait a few minutes-- it was quite hot outside, and I wasn't sure how long the guy would need to take a shower.

He was waiting for me when I stepped outside, and I was struck breathless by just how incredible he looked in street clothes. The polo he was wearing struggled to cover his massive chest, and I would have bet money he could have torn apart those sleeves if he flexed. I would never have been brave enough to ask him out on my own-- the man was an Adonis! "I'm so embarrassed," I admitted to him, deciding that honesty was the best policy. "I'm usually never this forward, but here I am inviting you back to my place when I don't even know your name!" I couldn't help but giggle awkwardly as I rubbed the back of my neck. "My name's Luke, by the way."

"David," he said, shifting his gym bag as he extended his hand. I thought he was reaching out for a handshake, but when I placed my hand in his, he pulled it forward and gave it a polite kiss. Maybe it was a bit cringe, but so am I-- and man, was I blushing. "Since we're being honest, my heart was beating in my chest the entire time I was talking to you. It's actually a bit of a relief to hear that we're both feeling a bit nervous-- it means we're both taking this seriously, you know?"

"I think I know what you mean," I said, as we started walking towards our cars. "Maybe this will lead somewhere, maybe it won't... but we're both giving it the best chance for success." I looked over at him, and he was already smiling. I smiled back, trying to ignore the pounding of my heartbeat. Taking a deep breath, I reached out to grab his hand, lacing his fingers with mine. Success! He chuckled, and gave my hand a comforting squeeze as I felt my face blush even more, somehow.

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. All the stories features only adult characters. If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Previously on Haunted:

It's revealed that the one who's been inside Peter's body all this time, distracting "Benji" (or rather, the intruder in his body), has been Rex. This was all to buy Tobias and the others more time to investigate without raising suspicion. With Zeke, Brady, and Daniel ruled out, only one person remains in the equation to find out where he is: Marco.

However, it seems Rex's time is running out, increasingly drained by the constant possession, and he's beginning to fade away little by little.

Previous part: Haunted - Impostors

Haunted: Wherefore art thou Romeo

— Come on. You have to move forward. What terrifies you so much? – Tobias looked at Julian, confused. He wasn't moving. They were standing in front of the auditorium. This was Marco's sanctuary, his safe place. If he wasn't there, it meant... that he was inside Benji.

— I-I… – Julian wasn't a coward, much less hesitant. If the situation demanded it, he was capable of going all in to get what was needed. He never gave up; his own death was clear proof of that.

— Jules...?

The man's eyes were wide, his irises trembling. Adrenaline coursed through his veins like fuel.

— I-I can't – he whispered, turning back and running down the hallway. 

Tobias’ eyes wide with shock, yelled at him to come back. The athlete ignored him, feeling the heat of his blood rush to his cheeks, staining his skin. He clutched his jacket, hyperventilating, and kept running until his legs gave out, collapsing inside the privacy of a janitor's closet.

— S-shit.

Why had he run? Why had he been a coward? His lower lip trembled, his stomach was in such a tight knot that it hurt to breathe, he felt like everything around him was shifting and pressing against him. He tried to grab onto the walls as if trying to stop himself from being crushed.

He couldn't do it, he couldn't. He didn't believe Marco was capable of such a thing. He was his friend, his best friend. He had supported him with Benji, gotten him the costume for Halloween, the birthday party, everything. Why would he do something like that? Why would he betray him to such a degree? He didn't want to think about the possibilities, but… They hadn't seen each other in almost two months. For Julian, that might have been normal; Marco used to disappear into the auditorium for weeks if they were preparing a play, even more so if it was a musical. But now, his usual routine didn't help matters much; besides, why wouldn't he take this opportunity? If Benjamin's body could be his ticket out, would he waste it?

Would he really let Broadway go? A brilliant career in theater, under the spotlights, surrounded by roses, paparazzi, critics fawning over him, and always having the lead role? Even if Benji's body had two left feet and the voice of a magpie, under Marco's control, he'd be dancing perfectly in a few weeks and holding the note on the bridge of "The Winner Takes It All".

If he himself weren't in love with Ben, he surely would have taken the opportunity to return to sports without a second thought.

But if Marco was in there, it meant that… He had lost the only friend he had left. He hadn't spoken to Elliot since Halloween, and the way things had ended, maybe there was no going back. It had hurt, it had devastated him to lose his friend, the guy who always played chess while watching him practice on the court, the one who he defended when Brady and Daniel started to cross the line, even the one who he was always in the library even though he hated reading.

But Marco was… Different.

When Julian became a ghost, it was… Chaotic. Going from being alive, being the captain of the team, the talk of the town, and the star of the Institute to being… Dust. It's not what anyone is prepared for. He crumbled. And he wouldn't have climbed out of that hole if it hadn't been for Marco.

And from then on, they had been inseparable, always supporting each other. Marco could possess some athlete if Jules wanted to play soccer, even if he didn't know how to stop the ball without getting hit in the face, or Julian could be in the body of the musical's co-star if Marco needed his "muse." Always together, always as one.

Facing the possibility that she had lost him was almost agonizing.

He would have Benji, but… at what cost? To be left without friends? Rex, Zeke, and Tobias were his boyfriend's friends, not his; Brady was a complete no-go; Daniel would drive him crazy sooner or later; the other ghosts didn't even dare look at him. What was he going to do?

— Are you… okay? – Tobias cautiously slipped through the door, his hands clasped together like a shy mole.

— Go away – Jules murmured reluctantly, his chest still rising and falling, clinging to his legs so tightly that his skin turned red.

— I…

— Just go away, Tobias! You have no idea what I feel! – he yelled, his face red, his eyes glassy, ​​tears welling up and catching on his eyelashes – Just… just go, please.

The ghost observed the other, lying on the ground, defeated, anguish reflected in every cell of his being. His hair, no longer his usual perfect style, was now disheveled. He was about to take a step back, swallowing hard.

— I... I understand you.

— What do you know about friends if you don't have any? – Their eyes met. Julian knew he'd crossed a line. Tobias just inhaled, trying to stay calm.

— That's precisely why I understand you – He moved closer to him and sat beside him, fidgeting with his fingers, as if trying to figure out where to begin this whole... speech – I failed my only friend.

— You... failed him? What are you talking about, Tobias? – Jules turned to look at him, frowning – I literally had to separate you from Daniel. You organized the whole search, you sent Rex, you saved Benji from going out of control during his first possession. How could you fail him?

The two remained silent. Tobias was still playing with his clothes as if it would buy him more time. Perhaps if he counted each seam on his sweater, he could avoid speaking.

— The book is mine.

— The book? What are you talking about?

— The one about the ritual, the suspended soul, all the information about the “Borders”, it's all mine.

Finally, the information made sense to the athlete, who backed away, frightened.

— Y-You? You planned this? – Tobias stared at him, a dark expression in his eyes that slowly crumbled. He lowered his gaze, his face tearful, shaking his head.

— No… It wasn't my intention. I discovered all those things in my early years as a ghost. I was trying to find a way to escape, to… understand what had happened to me – He lowered his gaze.

— Happened…? 

Tobias let out a soft, bitter laugh. 

— Let’s just say that the Institute's dudes, rituals, dark magic, and sacrifices don’t mix well; nor does trusting that you’ve made friends for the first time – he shook his head – The point is… I spent all my time here studying, devouring every book I could find, tomes on dark magic, necromancy, rituals. I never thought I’d ever see a “Border” with my own eyes. I thought they were myths, or that they were extremely rare. Until Benji showed up and… Well, we all know what happened.

His gaze was fixed on the floor, his nails digging into his palms.

— But… Did you give someone the idea to do it?

— No. I don’t know how the book ended up outside – he whispered – I keep all my things in a locked space, all my research, all my volumes, notes. I must have… I must have been very careless that someone found it, took notes, and… And Ben is like this because of me – His voice cracked like porcelain – It’s my fault it fell into the wrong hands.

Tears began to fall like a waterfall, his pitiful sobs filling the room with a blue, dejected glow. The ghost hugged his own legs; he had never told anyone, not Rex, much less Benji. He would never be brave enough to tell him the truth.

— Hey… – Julian murmured, approaching him to wipe away his tears – This isn’t your fault.

— Of course it is, Jules, you know that – he bit the inside of his cheek as if he wanted to unleash all his pent-up anger on himself – If I hadn't been careless, I wouldn't have left the key to Pandora's box, your boyfriend wouldn't be in danger, his life wouldn't be at risk, none of this would have happened.

— And you didn't know what could happen. You didn't know someone was going to find it, or even that it would be useful, did you? – The other nodded listlessly – Then stop blaming yourself. You're trying to make amends by finding a solution. You're being a good friend to him.

They both fell silent again for a while, Julian's arm around Tobias's shoulder, trying to comfort him.

— Marco is the only friend I have left – he murmured, his voice barely a whisper – I don't think I could bear it if he's the one inside Ben. It would be... too much for me.

Tobias turned to him for a moment, trying to smile.

— Nothing guarantees it's Marco.

— But what if it is? What if he's not in the auditorium? What if he...?

— There's only one way to find out – The older ghost pulled away slightly to stand up as best he could, brushing the dust off his clothes – I'll be honest, at first I hated you. You were too perfect, good at every sport, charismatic. You reminded me of... the same guys who did everything in the beginning. And when you started dating Benji based on lies, it got even worse. I thought you were like Brady, just trying to play with his feelings, finding a pastime until you got fed up.

— Why didn't you ever tell him the truth?

— Because it wasn't my responsibility, Jules – He was silent for a moment, sighing and shrugging – And then I started to notice that you didn't see him as just anyone. You're truly in love with him. Not just anyone is willing to practically consume themselves just to spend even five minutes with him.

They both chuckled softly. Jules just shook his head, banging it against the shelf of bleach and gloves.

— I don't know how I'm going to tell him the truth. Just thinking about it terrifies me – he exclaimed, cracking his knuckles as if that would lighten the burden his soul carried like a rock on the edge of a precipice – I’m so buried in lies that I know nothing will hold me back when I have to be honest.

Tobias observed him a little longer; he looked like a defeated lion, on the verge of despair, consumed by his own demons. He moved a little closer to him, extending his hand.

— Let's solve one problem at a time, shall we? – He smiled carefully, reaching out to ruffle his hair – You're not alone. Maybe we're not best friends, but you have me for whatever you need, Jules. No matter what.

The captain of the football team looked at him for a moment, a shy smile playing on his lips. He accepted his hand to help himself up, immediately pulling him into a hug.

— Ready? – Julian looked again at the wooden door of the auditorium. It was walnut, barely two meters tall at most, but to him, it looked gigantic. The red curtains surrounding it almost transformed into snakes that could bite him at any moment. Tobias moved closer and carefully took his hand. 

— Okay – he nodded.

The athlete inhaled and exhaled carefully, taking a step forward next to the other. The auditorium was dark, the seats empty, the aisles long, the stage imposing, gigantic. Marco was always there, script in hand, spotlight on him.

But now, it was empty. There wasn't a soul there, not in the front row, much less in the technical booth, or in the seats, nobody.

Julian's knees buckled, falling onto the red carpet. His gaze was lost on the stage. How had he done this? Why?

He sobbed silently, shaking his head.

Tobias wanted to stay by his side, but he managed to hear something from the back.

— Come here.

— Leave me alone… He's not here – The oldest ghost heard another murmur.

— Come here – he said, lifting him as best he could; it was almost like trying to pull on a marble column. Pulling him along forcefully, guiding him backstage, behind the heavy curtains, marking the path to the dressing rooms.

— It's useless, Tobias, please let's go, we already know who's inside, we have to get him out, we have to…

— Here I will establish my eternal rest – he heard a soft voice – and shake off from this world-weary flesh the yoke of the enemy stars.

The further they walked, the more clearly he could make it out. He pulled away from Tobias and began to walk faster; he knew those passages, he remembered them.

— What is this? – Julian found himself answering on impulse; he had rehearsed that scene so many times with Marco, he knew it by heart – A cup clutched in the hand of my faithful love, the poison, I see it, has been his untimely end.

— Eyes, look one last time. Arms, give your last embrace. 

Marco's voice was as clear as light, and yet Julian felt the path grow long, narrow, and lonely. He pressed on, trying to find his scene partner, his confidant, his best friend.

— Oh, you miser – he smiled – Did you drink it all, leaving not a single friendly drop to help me follow you?

He opened dressing room doors one after another, finding no one inside. The last door was the only way to know if his ears were telling the truth, or if the ghosts in his mind would be the final dagger to pierce his soul.

Slowly, he turned the knob. The room smelled of fresh roses, a hint of mint. There was a gigantic mirror with lights adorning its rim, a sofa at the far end, some makeup on the main table, even a coat on the rack – purple, with too many ruffles.

In the main chair, with their back to him, sat someone, leafing through a script, oblivious to their surroundings.

— And you, lips, gateways of breath – he whispered, searching for a bottle on the table, raising it as if it were a glass, toasting – seal with a legitimate kiss a boundless pact with all-consuming death… – he whispered, bringing it to his lips. He was about to continue the scene when he felt a gaze on his back – Jules?... What are you doing here?

Julian let out a soft laugh and ran to his friend, wrapping him tightly in his arms. Marco frowned, confused, but patted him gently.

— Where were you? – he whispered.

— Um... Here, what's wrong? Is something the matter? – He could see his friend's pale complexion, the dark circles under his eyes, his tears welling up – Are you okay?

— Yeah, I'm fine, I just... I didn't know where you were – he lied. He'd never been so happy to see the guy.

— Here, they're performing Romeo and Juliet. You know I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Marco's last play, the same one he performed before he ended up there. Jules sighed with relief, taking a couple of steps back.

— I'm glad. You'll do fine, man.

— Did you bring... visitors?  

Tobias was watching from the shadows of the hallway, his expression... strange.

— Yeah, why don't you come in? 

He took a few steps forward, muttering to himself, his gaze darting between Julian, Marco, nowhere, and back again, as if trying to complete an equation.

— Is he okay? Are you guys okay?

— I… – Jules tried to gather his thoughts – Benji isn’t okay. He… He was possessed.

— How? By whom?

— We don’t know, and… That’s not the worst part. It’s like they ripped his soul out of his body. The invader is inside him, and Ben is… basically a ghost.

— But who could have done something like that? It’s… It’s horrible.

— We’ve been trying to find everyone. We know it’s not Brady, not Daniel, not Zeke, not you either, so…

— Elliot’s the one we’re missing – Tobias murmured, finally completing the puzzle – Your other friend is the one inside his body. He’s the invader.

----

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.

Well, I think the revelation has finally come out, but tell me, were your theories correct? I would definitely encourage you to reread the chapter. I won't say more, but there are more clues and hidden details than you think, haha.

I'm really excited about the plot; it's truly one of the series I'm most passionate about writing. I hope you love it as much as I do.

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?

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.

Rent-A-Possessor: Passing A

Gale's job was actually quite simple. He just had to check his inbox for requests, sort them into categories, schedule them, and arrange appointments to collect personal items from the person who was going to possess them. Those requests that would go straight to the trash because they were so strange or nonsensical. Although, the lure of money always won him over at the end of the day. His family had money, yes, they were well-off, and he'd never lacked anything. But Gale wanted to forge his own path, and if he had to use his power to achieve it, he would do so without hesitation.

The requests almost always followed the same pattern: some people wanted revenge against someone and wanted them to be publicly humiliated so they would "pay" for their actions; others wanted an easy grade with the typical grumpy teacher; others wanted a final date with their ex to properly end the relationship; and still others wanted a first date with their lifelong crush so they could feel something, even if it was just for show.

Everyone always wanted something, and the pool of potential suitors was laid out before Gale, who, in exchange for a few bills, was more than happy to help (especially if there was an attractive body to be possessed).

However, certain requests always spiked when a specific time of year arrived: finals. At that time, Gale would always receive requests to possess a professor and get grades raised, passes, final projects forgotten, or for them to turn a blind eye.

— Damn, this itches – he muttered uncomfortably as he tried to adjust the thin lycra shorts he was wearing, which were digging uncomfortably between his fat, round buttocks. That body was... heavy, without a doubt. He couldn't understand how such a big, heavy man could be the coach of one of the tennis teams. Wasn't that sport supposed to be agile and elegant? What was a gorilla like this doing managing the team? Maybe that's why they never won…

But what was Gale doing inside him? Simple, it was a request from one of his friends.

— For the last time, can you repeat what you want me to do?… – Gale narrowed his eyes, somewhat confused, a saliva-filled whistle in the palm of his hand. He felt disgusted but tried to hold it back as he looked at Roy, nervously across the table.

— Dude, you have to help me. I just want you to get inside him and make sure he doesn't kick me off the tennis team. My grades have dropped, and he threatened that if I didn't improve them, he'd kick me off the team. I can't lose that, Gale. My scholarship depends on it, and-

— Okay – The body-jumping man nodded, patting the guy's shoulder, inhaling softly as he mentally prepared himself to possess the coach. Roy was one of the only people who knew about his gift, although let's just say… Gale wasn't exactly discreet about his magical abilities when it came to his friends – I'll fix it, I promise.

Although now he was regretting it. It turned out that Coach Castle was a tough, grumpy man, legendary for his punishments for being late, making a bad play, and countless other reasons that could irritate him and cause him to make the athletes run almost 20 laps around the track without a break. Anyone who dared to stop would have to do double the laps and pack up all the equipment, no matter what time it was over. Yes, he was a jerk. Big, burly, and smelly, as Gale was noticing with his new appearance.

— Damn, this is… Ugh – He gagged slightly in the middle of the sports field, shook his head, inhaling sharply to try and calm himself. The putrid stench burned his nose, but luckily, the court was empty. There was only "him", with his enormous thighs, biceps the size of mountains, pecs like watermelons, and athletic wear so tight you could see every last sliver of muscle. Although, honestly, Gale couldn't understand how someone could be so… Stinky. He could smell the notes of deodorant and cologne. How could his pheromones be more potent than all the hygiene products combined?

Gale was having trouble managing that body properly. It was too heavy. He felt… gigantic, as if his legs weren't responding as they should. He felt clumsy, bumping into everything. Those massive shoulders barely fit through a doorway. The guy inhaled discreetly again, sniffing around him, and the more he sniffed, the more… free he felt.

It was a damn side effect of his power; the body's original things, habits, and thoughts would gradually become familiar again. He thought maybe the memories would come back to give Roy a passing grade, but it seemed the habit of his new, foul odor had arrived first.

He felt… strong, he had to admit it. Gale was usually thin, very skinny, he had his own charm, yes, but he didn't have an ounce of muscle, something this new body had plenty of. Everything about him was big, thick, and fleshy, even his hands were gigantic, like his fingers were sausages and his palms were plates, they even had a peculiar aroma too and… Sniff sniff. Damn, they smelled good, salty, laden with that soft note of sweat, the new coach Castle had to restrain himself from licking his hand right there. But damn, it felt good, those strong thighs supporting all his weight, his strong shoulders, his big arms, and those huge hairy armpits… Mfhhh, damn, he could feel a tent forming in his pants, causing his clothes to ride up even more.

He needed a more… private place to continue this game. Finding Roy's folder could wait a few more minutes; Treating that godlike body the way it deserved? No.

He headed towards the locker room, guessing by sheer luck which of all those lockers was his. He unlocked it and found a couple of clothes inside, which, let's just say, weren't very discreet. They were thin tank tops with necklines that dropped to his chest, showing it off. They were loose-fitting, so his arms and armpits were also on full display. The guy looked at his new clothes with a certain lust in his eyes, licking his lips slightly. He didn't know if it was his psyche working in conjunction with that new, muscular body, or if it was his body's own instincts, but he felt so… good, shit.

He moved from the sports area toward the parking lot. It wasn't hard to spot the coach's truck – enormous, imposing, with a couple of rackets in the trunk and a ball hanging like a keychain from the rearview mirror. He patted his pockets to open the door, sat down, and felt somewhat uncomfortable in the driver's seat. It was… cramped. He could feel the seat pushed back as far as it could go, but it was as if it couldn't quite support him properly from the sides. It really was huge. So… big.

Gale couldn't help but stifle a giggle as he looked at those imposing hands. They were thick, really. He sniffed and licked them again like crazy, exploring every inch of the rest of his body: his pecs, his biceps, everything. The connection between his chest and arms, manifested in those smelly, hairy armpits, made him lift his head as he watched himself in the rearview mirror, delighted. 

— Heh… Yeah, I look like a gorilla – Gale's mind felt… Heavy, blurry.

Even for the best body-jumper, suddenly entering a psyche so charged with hormones and testosterone was like diving headfirst into a pool. The “water” felt heavy, and staying afloat was difficult while you swallowed everything in sight. His mind was becoming more and more filled with Coach Castle's dominant presence. He patted his chest, rubbing it between his hands as if it were Play-Doh, gasping with delight. His fingers quickly found their way to his areolas, twisting around them like a pair of tweezers. Gale blushed and stuck out his new, enormous, wet tongue. He was truly behaving like a total pervert in that luxury SUV, without shame or control. It was a miracle no one was around because, without a doubt, seeing the coach so uninhibited would raise a lot of questions.

And how’s that fit for ya?

Nice, man… very nice..

Yeeaah I figured you’d be happy in a suit like this. Damn, get a feel of those tits. How’d you find a guy like this anyways?

Aahhh, it’s… It’s complicated..

Let me guess… Personal trainer neighbor? You were sold when you watched him mow the grass?

Worse…

Ooh, one-night-stand? Couldn’t get rid of the memory of worshiping this huge bod all night?

Worse…

No… family?

… Brother..

Noooo shit, dude... Hah! I was gonna say, you two bear a striking resemblance.

From another mother... but, yeah..

Can’t blame you, bro! Not with guns like this..

Mmppff… fuck, these feel insane. No wonder he’s always flexing in the mirror.

Yeeaah, man… get a whiff of ya too.. woof!

Ha! Stooop, dude… I’m getting hard!.. feels.. huh, feels weird…

Oh! Let me help you there… annnd..

AA-OOoooooohh, fuck!

Yeah, man, you can feel that meat now, huh?

UUunngg, it’s like I slipped into his cock like a sleeve, and I felt me fuckin.. explode into his size! Damn I’m packing..

You’re acclimating very well!

Yeah, man.. I’ve wanted to do this for fuckin ever… He won the genetic lottery, I don’t know what happened with me, heh..

Stoooop, man, you were already cute! But now?… Mmff, what a unit…

Shit yeah, bro, I can feel how much you’re into this! You got—… Damn, when’d you lose your drawers?

As soon as I realized I needed to feel my meat up against this cake.

RRNngh, goddamn you’re.. you’re thick… greedy fucker aren’t you?

You have no clue. I just wanna feel all of you, dude. In fact, I might just have to try you on myself.

Uuooghh, fuck you’re so deep, bro! I can feel—…

Feel me thrusting up into your cock, right? FUCK you’re big! Ooh, you’re gonna love this…

G-guuoh my god! Shit you gotta tight grip!!

That’s right, man, flex harder for me!

I—UUGH—OOUUhhh…

Theeerree you go, dude, keep sliding in, mmmfff… let’s get, uunnhh, fuckin’… huuuuge…

Aauuhh, fuuuuckk dude, s-s-soooooo BIIIIG…. MMMPFFF yeah bro, sss-streeetch us OOoouut, gimme—gim—UUUHH—FFUUOOHHH FFFUCK!!

Oohh—Uuoohh—Huuhh… Hoooo, WOW. Hoomygod, fuck what a mmesssss… Jesus Christ, man, I can’t believe it took all that to tap me out. But fuck get a look at us!

Look at these… guns as big as my head… And these.. mmff, these titsssss, yeeeow! Damn I gotta be 280 at least, and… god, I’m gonna choke some motherfuckers with this thing. Hah! Almost hurts to swing around.

Alright dude, I’ll let you go your own way, but first we’re gonna have a weekend together that’ll change your fuckin’ life. Hell, you might come crawling back to have me to slip you on like a condom on the regular… All my other clients do.

Strap in, bro, this is gonna be fun.