lilspudstud

[lilspudstud]

[lilspudstud]

[lilspudstud]

Queering The Ring

Two podcasters must throw together a new show in a week, despite their differences they enjoy wrestling. for drastically distinct reasons of course. How will developing this show together change the two of them forever? Role swap; Straight to gay Jock -> Twink Twink -> Wrestler

Wanted to do a wrestler TF but was immediately inspired to change it to a straight to gay roleswap haha! Enjoy an Alpha Asshole finding new euphoria and a twink podcaster finding new power in this vaguely wrestling themed story! -Occam

Monday

The network was cutting back and it was clear what two shows would be the first on the chopping block. Having single host podcasts was seen as a cost saving decision when they were first green lit. But as large as their personalities may be, they simply have not met the expected growth metrics for their series to survive unchanged. That brings us to this meeting where Tyler Brady, host of AlphaHour, and Joey Brooks, host of Queering With The Queen, have been summoned to discuss their continued employment at HCT.

“Are you kidding me!? No way in hell am I working with that asshole!” Joey shouts just loud enough to get his point across, ever a consummate podcaster leaning away from the table as if he were giving a microphone room to avoid feedback. For his part Tyler just leans back, hands behind his head and his pits exposed in the tank he decided to wear to work this morning, “Yeahh not sure ‘bout this either. I mean you saw how my audience reacted when I had a woman on yuh? Can’t imagine they’ll listen to an, uh.”  Avoiding anything outright derogatory, he gestures wordlessly to a man who anyone listening would peg as gay.

Neither of them had met the man in the suit before, but as he adjusts his tie he simply radiates authority. He clears his throat and both men are swiftly struck silent, they eye each other nervously. Opposites they may be, at the end of the day they have enough class consciousness to know exactly where talent falls at this network. Only a few rungs from the absolute bottom, they know that they had best learn to stick together. The quality of air in the room shifts as the man finally speaks up, “Your shows are canned, immediately.” There is a gasp and a grunt. “The network had enjoyed double dipping in culture war but the board has decided that there needs to be a shake-up. End both of your droll programs and have you host something to bring both of your audiences together.”

Despite the blatant absurdity of a suggestion that their audiences would play nice with a merger, neither man quite feels the ability to speak up, sure they would be struck back to silence with a single look from the man. He grins and stands as he continues, re-buttoning his pristine suit, “You both remain under contract for the foreseeable future and with the non-compete clause and all I am afraid your hands are quite tied. You have until Friday to return with a cohesive program.” His eyes narrow and his pupils seem to slit as he appraises the two men one final time, “Best of luck as the two of you adjust to your new project.” Not waiting for a response he exits and the stuffy heat that had filled the room with his words dissipates, leaving Tyler and Joey in a chilly boardroom.

Both men sigh as at least most of the tension held in their bodies releases with the suit’s departure. They eye each other with disdain more at the situation than at who they must now make their bed with. Bound together and less than thrilled they raid the floor's fridge and grab a bottle of champagne as they begin to brainstorm what show they could possibly make, “I mean fuuuuck. ‘S not like I’m homophobic, you know that bro. But my fans-” He crosses his thick arms, flexing them nervously as he finishes his glass before pouring himself another.

Joey’s head is in his hands as he wracks his brain for a way out. He really shouldn’t be surprised, obviously the network never really cared about substance or decency. I mean, they host both his show and Brady’s, with the number of predatory ad reads he’s done it is quite clear that profits are always the priority over ethics for both the network and, he’s loathe to admit, for himself. Rubbing his face he poses the all-important question, “What could possibly be the overlap between our audiences.” Tyler scratches his stubbled face and does his best to quiet a wine-tinged burp in his meaty fist as he struggles to think hard before promptly getting distracted.

His eyes light up as he thinks of something to talk about with the man he can barely recognize as a man, “Oh! You still keeping up with wrestling dude? Did you see that ladder match on Tuesday?” Joey promptly ignores the question, slamming his small hands on the table and shouting, “ God that’s it! Wrestling is the perfect common denominator! I mean it’s literally the only thing we end up talking about when we’re stuck in a room anyway right? It’s all macho and faggy at the same time!” Tyler looks immediately nervous at the man saying faggy. Having gone through a few rounds of sensitivity training during his time with the network, his surely steroid-riddled brian remembers that gays are allowed to say it, before shyly smiling as the substance of the twink’s words hit him, “Duuude you’re so right. Got a little brain in your airhead huhuh-” 

Joey blushes and holds his tongue, choosing not to make anything of the jock’s words which are rarely accompanied by even a single thought. They don’t even need to grow at the start, as long as they can bring their most of their respective audiences in for a few weeks they’ll be gucci. He tongues his cheek as he’s again lost in thought thinking of everything to be done on the production side. Tyler starts scrawling his own ideas down for the show in handwriting so poor labeling it chicken scratch would be a compliment. 

They spend the rest of the work day planning topics, segments, games, and guests. Whittling away the hours they are shocked at how much development they get done, sending off the barest bones of a show bible to their managers and the board they receive the go ahead order. Tyler and Joey promptly begin to celebrate, going for a chest bump and a hug respectively, which knocks the smaller man onto the floor. With a guffaw Tyler reaches down to help up his new partner and pats him on the back, shaking off the mildest case of motion sickness from his body being ragdolled in such a way.

Both men think about inviting the other out for a round of drinks to celebrate, though are immediately hesitant about bringing their new collaborator out to meet their respective crews. Neither is terribly excited about a compromise either, Tyler scared of being objectified at a gay bar as he does women anywhere, Joey uncomfortable going to a straight bar where every shout would put him on edge. Instead they just shake hands as business partners ought, recoiling as the smallest static shock goes between them. Promising to meet back tomorrow bright and early.

Neither man quite notices the edits made by the studio in their show’s description as they shut the door behind him. It almost seems like the wires were deliberately crossed? “Join ex-wrestler Joey Brooks and queer commentator Ty Brady as they tell you the ins and outs of America’s GayGreatest Spectator Sport!” Surely this would be met with laughter and shrugs anyway, after all it’s just some lines of show text. Easy enough to fix in the morning, and surely they will. That night rest finds them swiftly, after their marathon brainstorm session neither quite has the energy for a night on the town and by midnight both are asleep, and unaware of what eldritch changes are to be wrought upon them.

Tuesday

Tyler awakens into a world of lethargy. Every movement is a struggle as he rolls out of bed and his body burns with the effort from simple ambulation. He was planning on hitting the gym before going in today but that is out of the question as even the stretching feels a daunting process. He’s not at all happy about it either as he inspects his body, self-criticism abounds. Usually a beacon of masculinity and virility, the zealous maintenance of his body seems to have completely fallen to the wayside. Poking his tight abs he finds them thinner and almost doughy, lacking the firmness he has honed for years.

He runs to the bathroom with a gasp to inspect himself in full, tripping on his pajama pants as he sprints. His eyes widen in shock before he pulls them up and tightens them for the first time ever. After that they hang easily on his ass, seemingly the only body part unchanged. Checking his reflection he finds that self-criticism is far too accurate. Flexing his biceps he swears they aren’t peaking nearly as high as they should, leaning in close Tyler also notices there’s no need to trim his beard today. In fact, it almost looks like there’s less hair on his face than he went to bed with. As an alarm goes off summoning him to work as he promised Joey, he fearfully takes one last look at himself and gulps before throwing on the baggiest clothes he can and sprinting to the office. 

Elsewhere Joey is having quite the opposite morning. Absolutely brimming with energy, his heart beats heavy in his chest as it feels as if he’s been shot with adrenaline at the crack of dawn. Everything in his body cries out for him to get out of the apartment and go somewhere his mind can’t quite fathom. Somewhere he’s rarely tread before. He scratches at his shaved pubes and balks as he feels a bush of growth that he has not allowed to take hold in years as it begins a deliberate path up to his belly button. Looking down he’s even more shocked to find his midriff is completely exposed. The shirt he slept in must have shrunk in the dryer, or something. Nervously pulling the small top down he feels similar itches begin rising up anywhere hair is wont to take hold.

He ignores his pits and chest as he goes to start his morning routine, brushing his teeth and washing his face. He hesitates looking at the litany of cleansers and scrubs before thinking otherwise. Mindlessly puffing up  his chest as he thinks he doesn’t really need them right? Nor does he pay mind to the itchy stubble starting to peek out on his sideburns and chin, he just got laser so surely any prickles of a beard he feels are completely in his head. Much like Tyler he goes through his closet to find the largest clothes he could find, throwing on those of an ex much larger than himself. After that his alarm too sounds and he makes his way out the door, scratching his ass without thought as he does so.

Meeting once more the two chatter eagerly, happy to get their minds off of whatever disparate oddities their mornings held. The two get to work on the groundwork of their show with haste, frequently stealing glances at each other as something at the edge of their minds notices something off. Joey sees Tyler’s arms hanging limply in a large t-shirt and flexes his own biceps, unable to hold back a smirk as he feels them fill a shirt that he forgets should be far too large for himself. Tyler sees the shoddy stubble staining Joey’s face and grimaces judging the twink for giving up on looking clean and cute before shaking off his judgment, who’s he to talk right? He rubs his own face and tries not to acknowledge the anxiety brewing at his still smoother face.

Beyond the skin-deep incongruities, Tyler also finds himself increasingly interested in everything Joey has to say about the intricacies of queer culture. He is more absorbed than he could possibly have expected. After minutes of talking about gay life in town Joey almost worries he’s setting up his new partner for some one liner before looking up to see the man’s eyes in rapt attention, he jokes, “You’ve quite taken to all the gay stuff already huh? Don’t forget you’re the big guy here, only room for one queen here hah!” At his words Tyler laughs and playfully punches, shaking out of his stupor, “Hah, uh yeah- Guess it’s all the soy milk I’ve been having or uh, huh?” He freezes as the words fall flat, almost uncomfortable in his mouth as he tries to summon back his vile bro-y persona. Failing to do so he shivers as his usual self almost feels out of pocket.

Joey too feels something shift between as his eyes glaze over, “Yeah its all about the, uhh? Paradoxyness? Uhhh-” His voice deepened in the few seconds of groaning. The men’s eyes are locked on each other as their minds rapidly alter to accept the ongoing changes in each other. It’s not weird that Tyler can’t launch into an AlphaHour spiel anymore. It’s not weird that Joey seems almost a foot taller, his arms straining a jacket he should be drowning in. Shaking off their reverie the two men awaken at the sound of Tyler’s five o’clock alarm. “Oh shit it’s five already?” Joey holds his hand to his face, fighting back an urge to just loose a burp as Tyler did only yesterday.

Tyler feels the soreness of a body that has unknowably grown more compact, he leans back to stretch and has no ability to prevent the girlish moan that comes out. It’s impossible for either man to miss as  they accelerate their packing up in silence, launching into a sudden race to depart. Tyler’s face burns red with embarrassment and his eyes keep flickering back to Joey who is pointedly not meeting his gaze. He’s far too in his head anyway as he struggles to cover up the erection that immediately forced its way out in response to Tyler’s cry. Doing so he is fully unable to hide the prominent sweat stains in his pits as he quickly shrouds his groin with a tote bag before he sprints out the door, promising to see his co-host tomorrow. As soon as he’s gone Tyler wishes he had beckoned the man to stay, he should have apologized, or said something. He doesn’t know quite what, maybe he just wishes the man were still here? 

After biting his lip he notices his hands have drifted to his crotch. Blushing he quickly follows after Joey, though deliberately holding back so they won’t bump into each other. That night as soon as they cross the threshold into their apartments their bodies are barely able to make it to their beds before they are ushered into dreamless sleep. All energy remaining in the men goes into the improvement of their forms, becoming exactly who they must be in order to serve their brand.

Wednesday

Tyler awakens with a yawn, stretching performatively for an audience of no one. Thankfully he’s lacking the weariness from the previous morning. Fearful of peeking to see what further alterations have ruined his body he wipes his bleary eyes as he wanders to the restroom, letting his pants fall to the floor as he does so. His ass is perfectly framed in a jockstrap as he walks in a needlessly sultry manner, unaware as he replicates the exact steps of countless women that he’s had over throughout the years.

Before he’s able to look in the mirror at his fair smooth skin his hands reach to grab something that isn’t there, something that has never been there. Tyler tilts his head in confusion as he stares at his now uncalloused hand. Lifting said hand to inspect it for any hint as to his unconscious actions, he instinctively covers his palm with his fingers. Showing off his faultless manicured fingernails. With a gasp he decides to skip his morning routine and rush to find Joey with haste, sure that twink has something to do with this. He is unaware as his idea of a morning routine has completely shifted from an early bird workout to the ever waged war on keeping his pert face looking young and feminine. His sleeves hang limp and his sweatpants frame his ass as he races out the door, unaware as a clutter of serums, creams, and makeup appear on his bathroom counter.

Elsewhere, Joey gets out of bed even earlier than usual and stumbles blindly into the kitchen. His eyes barely open enough to see how his hands have bloated themselves into mitts as he pours a canned energy drink into his blender alongside hefty scoops of protein powder. Joey rubs his eyes and groans as he heres the machine whir, grimacing at the beard scratching at his arm, turning his attention to focus squarely on his new facial hair he smirks as he imagines ‘how fucking hot’ he must look. Protein mush made, he chugs it down in far too few boorish gulps, dripping it all over his pajamas and the forest of darkening hair on his chest, before losing the will to ever wear pajamas again, and releases a burp loud enough to vibrate the glass blender in his hand.

Then he’s off to the gym. Surging with energy he can’t hear his heavier footsteps over the high-octane workout playlist he must have made at some point. Up early enough that there’s few others at the gym it’s as if he’s in his own little world, barring the few times he nods at the other regulars who smile at him in return, as if they’ve met many times before. Joey doesn’t let his mind wander there though as there is nothing more important than keeping his body in its ultimate state. 

Eventually the Village People’s Macho Man starts up and his chest puffs up in both size and with pride, his biceps surge larger as the song continues, bursting larger with each in-time pump. Between deliberate grunts of exertion there is a sustained groan as he feels the song engrained upon his psyche. That’s his song. His song? Drive continues to rise in his chest and his sharp mind begins to dull as the chorus pumps into him. Joey fans his shirt to cool off and smirks as he smells his rising musk, turning to smell his pits he feels himself instantly start to chub before shamelessly realizing he forgot to bring deodorant. 

Lacking the wherewithal to realize that such action was so antithetical to the should-be twink’s modus operandi, Joey simply stretches and delights in the soreness and tension burning across his expanded body. Scratching at his pit before sniffing his hand and shivering, the man wonders if he can go to work in such a disheveled state before remembering that Tyler definitely has. Mind on Tyler, his cock briefly pulses which he takes as a lightbulb moment, maybe he’ll have some deodorant for me! The man gathers his only recently extant gym bag and wanders his sweaty body towards their studio.

Tyler and Joey bump into each other at the front entrance. They stare at each other in silence as their brains are again rewired. Now eye level with his co-host’s pecs Tyler can’t help but blush in admiration rather than jealously as he forgets how his own sculpted-form should look and instead just feels carnal desire for the man in front of him. Joey looks down at the man across from him for the first time, snatched waist, beautiful smooth skin, and an ass that’s crying out for him. His eyes half-glazed he bites his lip and goes to get the door for the smaller man. After a few seconds pause, and covering his nose to not be overwhelmed by the musk steaming from Joey’s now upraised arm, he strides inside. Only to stop with a moan as Joey slaps his ass.

Tyler whimpers and Joey gasps in disgust at his actions, “Fuck dude I’m so sorry!” Tyler reaches back to feel where he was slapped, already warmer than the surrounding area, sure to hold a perfect  imprint of Joey’s hand. He can’t even find the words to say as his mind is completely stuck between the impulses of a man who would never take that shit, and the almost completely dominant desires of a man who almost came on the spot. In the end he balances his lusts with the smallest shred of his past self crying out in emasculation, choking out an, “It’s fine, uh, dude.” His pitch still rises higher as the once prominent adam’s apple shrinks further into his neck. Joey clears his throat and apologizes fervently, “I’m so fucking sorry I don’t know what came over me. It’s like I’m an animal, my fucking co-” he cuts himself off as he feels his balls pulse and he decides to keep his mouth shut until he calms down. It must just be post workout hormones, unfortunately for him his body continues to burn with power and lust as he rides the elevator up to their tight studio.

One day left before the board decides if they’re in or out. The two men get started on some of the most important tasks ahead of them, prepping for their first recording session and ironing out the final details to send to their producers. Unfortunately for them neither of their minds are at 100%. It seems with every keypress they have to steal a glance of their co-host, biting lips and blushing red as they continually catch each other in the act. At one point Joey’s jock is so strained he runs to the bathroom to remove it where he sees his cock has grown monstrous, he fights back the urge to flex at himself and grimaces at the stains still spreading further and growing darker under his pits. Throwing his pants back on he hopes going commando won’t turn him on even more. Returning to the room Tyler can’t help but stare at the cock now snaking unguarded down his partner’s pant leg.

“Okay Ty. Clearly something’s up today, right?” Tyler tilts his head and purses his lips, arching his back as he stares wordlessly. Immediately accepting as Joey calls him Ty, it just feels right. The final vestiges of the host of AlphaHour crack and begin to fully dissipate. Joey groans and his voice cracks even deeper as he sees Ty poses like a professional provocateur, “Grgh- We should work from home the rest of the day and come back on our A-game tomorrow, yeah?” Ty nods quickly, while new hormones course through both of their minds and desires burn hotter than anything, he knows they’ve got more important things on the line than sex, “For sure ba-, uh, bro?” The word feels wrong on his tongue, “See you tomorrow then?” He puts out his hand and Joey fights the urge to pull him in for a kiss as his own hand completely encompasses the twink’s.

Leaving for their apartments, laptops in tow, the men head off in opposite directions before their minds grow foggy, for once not from lust but the changing of the world around them. Both arrive at a complex that they don’t quite remember, Ty races up the stairs while Joey leans against the wall waiting for the elevator, popping his pecs and watching himself in the reflection of the stainless steel doors. Both men exit into the third floor and find themselves face to face once more. Staring at each other in shock, the two men wander up to the doors to a suite that the both of them now strangely identify as home. Joey stills his hand, staring at his partner’s ass as Ty enters first and looks around, finding it alien and expected at the same time, possessions of his, Joey’s, and most concerning, things that are without a doubt shared between the two of them. He turns to look back at Joey in shock as the man shuts the entrance to their apartment behind himself and his eyes darken with desire that can now finally be fulfilled. Ty charges and hops into the titan’s arms as the truths of their new lives are immediately apparent, and the fulfillment of their long ignored desires is the most pressing thing in the world.

Thursday

Thursday they called out sick or rather, they would have, had they the capacity to focus on anything other than the discovery of their new selves. The discovery of their new lover. Feeling a completeness they never possibly could have understood before finding their inexorable other half in this apartment that they now share, and judging by appearances have shared for some years. While Ty and Joey find their new, may as well be marital, bed the two changed men also discover the abundance of bliss they shall enjoy evermore.

To accompany their new bodies, massive and petite to diametric degrees, the items and clothes they’ve accumulated over their lives apart begin to shift to fit their new stories. In most cases there’s little at all to be done, upon second thought what was once Tyler’s hoard of protein powder was of course Joey’s. The wrestler’s gotta stay diligent lest he lose his trademark titanic figure. And of course the organized trays upon trays of beauty miscellanea could never be Joey’s, the world’s lucky if the brute even remembers to wear deodorant, not that Ty minds of course.

Joey’s wardrobe grows as much as it can though will still frequently struggle to fit him in any fashion other than skin tight. Suits and sweaters thin and shift to shorts and singlets, the fanciest remaining pieces of clothing shift dazzling into his costume from the ring, gotta keep it ready to show off for fans after all. He’s got a few other cheap versions of the getup for whenever Ty’s in the mood. Speaking of Ty’s idly procured inventory of sleeveless shirts and boxers shift and sparkle into carefully composed outfits. Accessories array themselves throughout the closets of both men as Joey’s meager clothes are pushed into the corner to make room for his love’s impressive wardrobe.

 Finally giving in to what their bodies have been begging for, the two men dig far deeper into lusts that have only been previously explored by a single slap of Ty’s ass. Making out their minds are bombarded with countless memories of them doing just that over the years. They remember meeting outside of the ring and were immediately drawn to each other. Ty was a reporter, Joey “The Brute” Brooks was the star of the scene but he couldn’t draw his eyes off the thin man with a mic. He hadn’t thought he was gay, perhaps he wasn’t before that moment, but from then on he would not rest until he was to rest with that man.

Ty was everything that Tyler would have said he hated, but finding himself in the body of a man more feminine than even proto-Joey could have achieved, there was nothing but pleasure in his heart, changed as it may be. Initial horror as his body seemed to waste away became pride and understanding as his weight settled just right to attract the eyes of any man. While his past self was loud to be heard, brash out of insecurity, performatively ignorant. The new, true Ty was only as vocal as he needed to be to succeed, confident without trying, and clever enough to recognize everything he could be and work towards that end with grace and precision.

Each heavy breath and sweaty touch as they consummate their new beings resounds throughout them. Every move a reflection, an exaction, of every one that came before it. They buck and grind with the confidence of having done so in the very same fashion thousands of times before. Ty carefully cups Joey’s massive pec just so, fingers perfectly encompassing his hard nipple and the man guffaws as his mind goes blank. To return the favor he sits up and throws his arms around Ty, easily enveloping the whole of his body as he continues to bounce, the jungles of hair in Ty’s pits, arms and chest beyond sweaty as they tickle and cover him in the musk he so adores. Spit, sweat, and cum fly with a frequency that will surely leave them in quite the refractory period whenever they come to a pause. Enjoying themselves enough to make up for the years of unreality they have missed out on, that pause doesn’t come until the morning when their phones blare a bedlam they can barely make out over their own cacophony

“Oh shit we have to record today.”

Friday

“Well come on Macho Man you better get ready!” Ty shouts with a wink as he throws on a puffy robe and starts to prep his beat for the day. Joey gets a deadly serious expression as he pushes into the shower to quickly wash off the sex, “Ty you know you can’t call me that. The Fed’s so litigious.” Ty grins and giggles as he oft does, watching Ty sniff his pits and shrug. The giant hops out of the shower almost as soon as he hopped in. “Girl. It’s not like I’m wearing a wire, promise I’ll be on my best behavior today heehee!” Joey stands behind his lover and flexes in the mirror as he grinds up against Ty’s back. Promptly he is slapped away, “Keep it in your pants Joe! We need to hurry up and head out! We can’t be late for the big day!” He says before turning back to get his hair styled to perfection. 

 Joey scratches at his chest before squeezing into some gym clothes that leave little to the imagination. He feels like there was something special about today’s episode but is stumped as to what it is, they’ve recorded hundreds of episodes before haven’t they? Finishing up his look as his hair bleaches itself platinum blonde, Ty comes to a similar conclusion, though to him every one of their episodes is a carefully crafted masterpiece. Their following only continues to grow at any rate, Joey’s fanbase from his time as a champion brings in meatheads eager for a culture other than all that alpha-male shit and Ty’s mastery with the press and personal branding easily allowed him to bridge the gap into an influencer. AlphaHour and Queering W/ The Queen faded not so much into obscurity but non-existence as the pair’s new, only, show has surpassed expectations that the two men could never have dreamed of. Indeed, Queering the Ring is a show that has blown past what anyone possibly could have expected of it.

Walking down the street the men pass a billboard advertising an upcoming live show of theirs. Smiling at their massive faces plastered on the ad Joey throws his heavy arm on Ty’s shoulder and squeezes him in close, Ty fights back a grin as his eyes water, feeling his lithe body perfectly slit alongside the behemoth’s. It's as if the two were made to be together. He waves at his eyes and giggles, “Gotta keep it together now, we’ve got work to do yet.” Joey feels his cock stir and his mind is completely overrun by his balls as he wonders if they’ll have time to have some fun before they’ve gotta record, before pursing his lips and scratching at his beard realizing Ty's probably not going to let his look be besmirched before then. 

The two men are welcomed in by some suit they’re sure they’ve met before. His pristine smile glistens as it grows wide and ushers them into what they feel is just another day of their grind towards success together. Ty goes to get their booth set up for the recording, ensuring everything is ready to run smoothly while an aide gets Joey mic'd up. Once used to running a one man show, now that most of Joey’s brain has been converted into brawn that he must always effort to maintain it’s easy for everything else to fall by the wayside. He stirs protein powder into a mug of coffee brought to him by an aide who grimaces at the sight and curls his nose at the aura of odor around the giant. Joey kindly raises his caffeinated convocation at the man as he thankfully leaves the two of them to their work.

Joey takes a deliberately loud slurp and Ty scowls over his own mic at him. Joey shrugs with a grin and leans back in his chair, clearing his throat while Ty does a few vocal warm ups. After their final preparations the red light outside their booth flickers on and they begin their episode, running on instinct it goes off without a hitch. Suddenly it’s a no brainer as to what makes this episode so special, Joey begins the announcement in his deep clumsy fashion, “It’s uhhh, not a secret that we’ve been seeing each other since we started this show. But there’s been a recent, uhhh, development. Here babe I can tell you’re chomping at the bit so-” Given the go ahead his lover promptly cuts him off with a shrill shout, “We’re engaged!” Bands appear upon the fingers of both men and fullness surges in their hearts as they are officially bound together beyond that of roommates, cohosts, or even lovers. Never to experience loneliness again they are bound in law and by every shifted thread of reality that brought them together.

Together eternally more, their show shall continue to thrive, constantly ushered to new heights by the wit of Ty and the wandering gags of The Brute. Inseparable and finally whole, the pair enjoy all their new world has to offer, Joey with his perfect body and storied success and Ty with his finally pacified temper and a newfound understanding of himself and those around him. They may be larger than life personalities working for a less than scrupulous network, but at the end of the day they always have their love to come back to, and nothing could possibly dull the passion and plentitude they find within the arms of their other half.

[lilspudstud]

Appreciating it

(Original story posted September 28th 2023) Minor edits and corrections

It’d been a week now and Liam still couldn’t come to terms with what had happened. He always had a feeling that his younger brother Jack was jealous of him but he never could’ve imagined it would go as far as this.

Throughout their entire lives growing up, Jack had indeed been jealous. At first it was just because Liam was always bigger than him. But that was only natural with Liam being the older of the two. But as they grew into adults that jealousy only continued to grow and fester as it became clear that Liam simply got a better mix of their parents genetics. Always being able to grow a better beard and more body hair than his younger brother. Always being seen as the more handsome brother. So much so that Liam was always getting attention from women left, right and centre while Jack got little more than pity. But the thing that really pushed Jack over the edge was when Liam came out as gay! He had all that manliness to attract the kinds of chicks Jack could only dream of pulling and Liam wasn’t even interested in them!

Somehow Jack had managed to get his hands on this strange amulet and one morning, as Liam got up to make breakfast, Jack used the amulet to switch their bodies! In an instant Liam found himself in his younger brother's small skinny body while Jack grinned seeing that he now owned his older brother's bigger, stronger and hairier body instead. Immediately Liam began to freak out at the situation but Jack couldn’t even hide how happy he was that his plan had been a success.

“Sorry bro but this body and its potential was being wasted on a homo like you.” He claimed before flexing his biceps a little and admiring his chest hair. “You had all those hot chicks nipping at your heels and all you wanted to do was fuck other dudes when you coulda been fucking soooo much pussy.” Jack berated, clearly irritated by how he believed Liam wasn’t living up to his full potential. “I know you’re my brother but… faggots like you don’t eserve strong manly bodies like this. They should be used by real men like me. Straight men who appreciate what it was meant for. Plowing pussy!” He smirked victoriously while crossing his arms over his new hairy chest.

Naturally Liam argued against this, calling his brother insane for what he’d done and what he was saying. Screaming at him that it was wrong. He even tried to reactivate the amulet that Jack had used to swap them but it was one time use and was all out of juice. Despite this Liam continued to shout and berate his younger brother about what he’d done and why he’d done it, saying they had to find a way to switch back. But Jack was having none of it.

In one swift movement Jack pinned Liam against the wall with his new strength and sneered. “Look. This isn’t your body anymore bitch. It’s mine. And in a minute I’m gonna get your friend Veronica to come down. I know she’s had a crush on you for a while. Huge fucking tits that you never appreciated. But don’t worry I’ll be using your hands to grab those tits and that fat ass of hers too by the end of the night.” A sinister grin spread across his face as he imagined it. “And if you even think of telling her about the swap, I’ll go right back to the place I got that amulet from and get something that’ll guarantee you won’t be a problem again.” He threatened ominously.

Later that day Veronica indeed showed up after a quick phone call and Liam had to bite his tongue as he watched Jack with her. Using his stolen body to slide closer to her. Eventually telling her that he didn’t think he was gay after all and wanted to explore a little. Liam had been praying Veronica wouldn’t go for it but to his horror he soon watched as his own stolen body began making out with her. Even cringing as he watched his former cock start to get hard as the kiss deepened. Liam didn’t want to believe it but his former body was now acting like horny straight guy now that his brother was in the driver's seat. He didn’t see what happened after that as the two retreated to what was now Jack’s room to continue. But of course Jack made sure to tell Liam all about it afterwards.

“Fuck you should’ve seen her bro. Practically shoving her tits in my face at one point while she massaged my cock with her ass. She kept saying how happy she was that I wasn’t gay because of how wet I always made her before giving me the greatest tit job of my life! And you’d better believe I ate out her pussy afterwards while she moaned about how good my beard felt.” He would taunt relentlessly. “Had to stop myself from breeding her pussy afterwards. I don’t think I’m ready to knock someone up just yet. I don’t think she would’ve stopped me if I tried, though with how horny she looked for me.”

And that’s how it’d been for the past week. Almost every night Jack had brought someone home. It was usually Veronica but he’d had a few other girls over as well. And every time he’d taunt Liam about it. Telling him that his manly body was finally being used for its real purpose. Not that Liam needed to be told when the fucking was so loud he could hear it from anywhere in the house. Listening as Jack slammed his stolen cock deep into some wet pussy, living the dream of every straight man with the stolen body of his gay brother. And as his balls slapped against her with every thrust, Jack would think to himself that this was how things were supposed to be and this was how they were going to stay.

All the while Liam suffered in silence while watching his brother turn his former body into a typical straight bro who never shuts up about tits and pussy. His reputation as a gay guy was already ruined as news spread about him ‘going straight’. Liam could only pray he somehow figures out where Jack got that amulet from before he ends up using that body to get someone pregnant. If he can find it at all…

[lilspudstud]

“I think your muscle potion made me all dumb and stuff,” Aaron said, scratching his stupid head. He stood in front of me, naked and beautiful.

“But you look so good,” I said, moving closer to the man that was until that morning my math teacher. I rubbed his dick and it instantly hardened. He smiled.

“Maybe it’s ok,” he said. “I forget what smart was like.” He kissed me.

“It’s good to be dumb,” I told him, and he nodded, then gently pressed down on my shoulders to lower me to my knees. His cock was beautiful, delicious, and I worshipped it with my tongue.

“Gonna come, dude,” my former teacher grunted. “Drink it!”

I swallowed down every drop, blushing and flushed and clutching at his body. When he’d finished, I took a deep breath and looked up, and realized I couldn’t remember my name, or where we were, or what we were doing.

“Uh, what happened?” I asked, dazed.

He laughed. “Dude, did you get stupid too?”

I laughed back. “Uhh, I guess so!” My mind was totally blank. Silly. Simple. I scratched my stupid head.

“It’s good to be dumb,” he said, smiling down at me.

Read more tales of sexy gay transformation by Douglas Benjamin: https://amzn.to/2l5xrFF

[lilspudstud]

"You smelled so good, babe, and I love this arm, reminded me of your younger days,"

Juan is then looking mischievously at the two Smurf statues in the kitchen island before letting out a cute chuckle

"This would be sweeter if we can listen to both of you screaming and begging for us to stop, but I think I appreciate the silence from both of you. Enjoy the noise tho,"

Jesse also stares at the pair of Smurf and let out a knowing smirk

"We'll held the biggest orgy in this fucking building, and you two will have to witness your bodies doing all of the fucking. It's gotta be one heck of a gorgeous night,"

"We'll make sure to give you two the front row view, maybe we'll fuck someone in the kitchen, or maybe we'll get fucked, like this,"

Jesse proceeds to lift Juan's tank top and start caressing the abs of his best friend. Juan intentionally moaned and arched his back to such hyperbolistic nature as Jesse's hand travelled further down and start grabbing Juan's bulge.

"Yeah, just like this. And even worse," Jesse continued as he then lowered Juan's trainers to reveal a 6.5 semi-hard cock

"Cmon baby, cmon, shoot that Mexican spunk out of your dick and let our little statue friends gets a taste of your creamy cum,"

"Oh my God, ohhh....ohhhh.....fuuuckkk...... I'm so close, Rob.....I mean Jesse....ohhhh fuck.......keep it.... go---going.....I....I....gonnAAAAHHHH" and with that, Juan sprayed his load all over the island and splattered some thick glob of it to the Smurf pair. He proceeded to grin right in front of the Smurf where the real Juan's soul placed inside and then lick the splattered cum for it

"Tasty,"

"Let me have a taste,"

And with that, both men are kissing and the real Juan and Jesse can only watch in silence of the exploitation conducted by their much older neighbor using their virile body. Guess they should've been more respectful to the two elderly gay couple next door, but it's a bit too late now as both men seemingly shows no interest of ever letting Juan and Jesse back to their original body.

[lilspudstud]

Taking It For Granted

(Original story posted October 6th 2023) Minor edits and corrections

Eric was busy getting dressed and ready for work when he glanced over at his boyfriend. Ajax was still laid in bed wearing nothing but a pair of underwear. Even now Ajax couldn’t help subtly running his hands across his abs and down his muscled legs. So captivated by himself.

“Are you gonna actually get out of bed sometime today or are you just gonna keep groping yourself all morning?” Eric asked as he straightened his tie.

Ajax chuckled in response. “Sorry babe. Hard not to admire all this sometimes.” He gave a quick flex before sliding out of bed and sauntering over to Eric. “You should know. You were the one kissing my biceps last night.” He grinned before leaning in and giving his boyfriend a soft kiss. The sweetness of which was soon dulled by the slap Ajax left on Eric’s ass before making his way towards the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Eric watched the sway of Ajax’s muscular body as he walked away. Over the last couple of days he’d noticed a change in his boyfriend. Subtle things from the way he talked to the way he carried himself. He was more joyous and bouncy than ever before. Not to mention how he seemed to check himself out at every given opportunity. Ajax had always been proud of his physique but recently it seemed like he just couldn’t stop flexing and squeezing his muscles. Just seeing his own reflection seemed to make his day now. Not to mention his attitude had completely shifted.

A week prior to this Eric and Ajax’s relationship had been hanging on by a thread. They’d been arguing more and more over the past few months. It’d started with petty disagreements that blew up bigger and bigger until eventually they had a full fight which ended in Ajax storming off. After that Eric thought it was over. With how badly they’d been getting on, he was swiftly losing hope in their relationship.

A few hours later however, Ajax returned. Part of Eric was expecting him to start packing up his stuff but instead he gave the most heartfelt apology Eric had ever heard. He had no idea what had caused such a change in Ajax but he didn’t question it in the moment. Eric apologised too and afterwards Ajax promised he’d be better. So much better. Before long Eric found himself jumping into Ajax’s strong arms as they made their way to the bedroom. What followed was the steamiest makeup sex they’d ever had.

After falling into bed together they’d begun ripping off their clothes like animals. Ajax however seemed particularly horny. He was rock hard and beyond eager to fuck. Yet before that he took immense satisfaction in allowing Eric to explore the size and contours of his muscles. As if it were the first time he was being admired like this. Eric didn’t care though, he’d always loved Ajax’s chiseled physique. Almost as much as he loved taking Ajax’s fat cock up his ass. And that’s exactly what he got. He didn’t know quite what’d gotten into his hunky boyfriend that night. Out of nowhere Eric found himself on the receiving end of the best sex of his life! Getting pounded from all sorts of different positions in such a way that had him cumming over himself not once but twice! Ajax had never been bad at fucking but last night it was like he’d been possessed by a sex demon. He demolished Eric’s hole before shooting a massive load inside.

Since then Ajax had been like a totally different person. Alongside the slight differences in the way he spoke and carried himself, he was also far more affectionate and thoughtful. Whereas before he’d grown quite distant, now he always wanted to kiss and cuddle. Always giving sweet compliments and wanting to be closer. Not to mention they’d been fucking like rabbits ever since making up.

It was a complete 180 to his former attitude and Eric would be lying if he said he didn’t love it. After all, even when they’d been having terrible arguments, he still loved Ajax more than anything. The only difference now was that it actually felt healthy again. That said Eric didn’t want to question it. Everything seemed perfect. But there was one thing he just couldn’t get out of his head. Something that the old man who lived across the street had said the morning after him and Ajax made up…

———

It’d been the morning after they made up. Eric found himself waking up with a sore asshole to the sound of shouting coming from the front door. After turning to see Ajax wasn’t in bed next to him, Eric quickly got up to see what all the commotion was about. He walked a little funny down the stairs after the railing he’d gotten last night. When reached the door however, he was surprised to see none other than old Mr Jenkins having some kind of blow up at Ajax. Eric could hardly understand half of what he was saying. Something about needing to fix something and not wanting to be old? He even called Ajax a “sadistic body thief” whatever that meant.

Eric quickly decided to step in and see what the problem was. Immediately Mr Jenkins switched his attention to him and started coming out with some of the most insane things Eric had ever heard!

“I’m not Mr Jenkins!” He shouted frantically. “You have to believe me Eric! I’m Ajax! He stole my fucking body!” He screamed while pointing at Ajax. There was a fury in Mr Jenkins’ eyes that Eric had never seen before. He was completely out of his mind! “I don’t know how you did this but you’re gonna undo it you crazy asshole!” He continued on and on.

Ajax put his hands up. “How many times do I have to say it? I don’t know what the hell you’re going on about.” He then glanced at Eric before whispering. “I think he’s gone nuts. He won’t stop yelling about some invasion of the body snatchers type of shit.”

“I’M NOT CRAZY! GIVE IT BACK YOU OLD BASTARD!” Mr Jenkins looked as though he was ready to launch himself at Ajax in a blind rage with what little strength his elderly body had. But before he could, Eric stepped between them.

Eric couldn’t help feeling bad for the elderly man. Of course he didn’t believe a word he was saying. It was insane, not to mention impossible. His only guess as to what was going on was that Mr Jenkins’ was suffering from his old age. Dementia perhaps? Whatever the case it was clear to Eric that he needed help. He tried to calm the old man down but nothing helped. Only continuing to curse at Ajax while begging Eric to believe him. Apparently the other neighbours had overheard all the commotion because not too long after a police car rode up outside the house.

With Eric and Ajax explaining what’d happened and Mr Jenkins still screaming bloody murder and even getting violent with the officers, it wasn’t long before the old man was taken away to get some help.

As they watched the car drive away, Ajax wrapped his muscular arms around Eric from behind. “You okay babe?” He asked while kissing the back of Eric’s neck.

“Yeah… I just didn’t know Mr Jenkins was suffering like that. I can’t imagine what must’ve been going on inside his head to make him believe all those things.” Eric leaned back into Ajax’s body a little, allowing his back to rest against his boyfriends strong pecs. “It just makes me wanna appreciate what we have right now you know?”

“Absolutely.” Ajax hugged Eric tighter. “I’ll never take this for granted again.” He added, trying to sound sweet while a smug grin crept across his face unbeknownst to Eric.

———

It’d been almost a week since then. Eric had arrived at work and was going through the motions as usual. Only now he felt constantly distracted. He just couldn’t help replaying that scene with Mr Jenkins over and over in his head. All those crazy claims he made about being Ajax and having his body stolen. He seemed so convinced. So sure of himself. Not to mention that until that morning Mr Jenkins had been as healthy as a horse in both mind and body. So for him to just flip like that felt… off.

Normally he would’ve brushed something like that off easily. Body swapping? That was the definition of crazy talk. Under normal circumstances there was no way in hell he’d believe that. But that’s when he started to pick up on things more clearly. Subtle changes in the way Ajax behaved that quickly began to plant a seed of doubt in mind. A seed that grew to the point where he’d been analysing almost everything his boyfriend did and said.

He went over it in his head as we worked. Out of nowhere Ajax had begun watching the historical channels on TV, finally started reading one of the books he’d received as a present last year and even mentioned that he wanted to give fishing a try at some point! The Ajax he knew never had the patience for those things. The rational thing to assume would simply be that Ajax was maturing. Trying to be a better person and gain new interests. But Eric just couldn’t shake the weirdness of how it’d begun the day Mr Jenkins went crazy.

It wasn’t just his interests though. It was Ajax’s whole demeanour. Before he was quite stoic. He’d have his moments of sweetness but overall he was very reserved. Over the last couple months he’d even grown quite mean and snappy, eager to jump to an argument and make a big deal out of nothing which eventually led to their huge fight. But then it all changed starting with that massive apology he gave. Ajax had never been one to say sorry so it came as quite the surprise. Even in that moment Eric couldn’t help thinking he seemed like a different person, only he wasn’t thinking about it quite as literally then. Since then his mood had completely changed. His reserved and quiet nature seemingly vanished overnight, being replaced by a much bubblier and joyful attitude. It was almost like he had this newfound appreciation for his life.

This couldn’t have been clearer in the way he treated himself and others. For a start he just couldn’t stop admiring his own body. Always touching something. Groping his pecs, massaging his thighs, flexing his biceps. He couldn’t get enough. Always making comments about how hot he looked and spending way longer in the shower than usual.

And when it came to Eric, Ajax was far more affectionate and thoughtful. Always giving him compliments and kisses. Always smiling when they were together and telling Eric how lucky he felt to have what they had. Hell he even bought him flowers! Something Ajax had never done before. And the sex was some of the most passionate they’d ever had. So deep and loving. Every. Single. Night. Ajax was more eager than ever to slam his cock inside Eric’s hole at any given opportunity. And to top it off Ajax seemed to have developed this worshiping kink in the last couple of days. Always wanting Eric to kiss and worship every inch of his muscular body.

All of those little things stacked together caused that tiny seed of doubt in Eric’s mind to grow into a tree that’s roots were consuming his every thought. He wanted to believe he was just overthinking it but what Mr Jenkins had said was starting to make too much sense. It was too much to have just been a coincidence. It was only lunch time but Eric decided to take the rest of the day off work for a ‘family emergency’.

Once home, Eric took a deep breath before quietly opening the front door. He was about to shout his boyfriend’s name but before he did, he heard to sound of Ajax’s voice coming from the bedroom. Curiously Eric made his way towards the bedroom as silently as possible to, trying to listen to what Ajax was saying until he was stood right outside. And what he heard sent shivers up his spine.

“Fuuuuck yeahh! I’ll never get tired of this young cock! God I still can’t believe how much bigger it is compared to my old one!” He moaned. “Young, dumb and hung as fuck…”

Eric’s eyes widened. Was it actually true? Without a second thought he peered his head into the bedroom to see none other than his boyfriend stood in front of a mirror bare ass naked and flexing while he stroked his cock!

“Ohhh yeah! I’m Ajax! Young fuckin muscle bull! Fuuuck I-” He cut himself short when in the corner of his eye he noticed Eric stepping into the room. “Oh-I-Ummm… Eric. I didn’t think you’d uhmmmm… be home so soon hahah…” A flustered look quickly crossing his face. “I was just-” before he could finish, Eric stopped him.

“It’s true isn’t it? Everything Mr Jenkins said. About the body swap.” Eric still didn’t quite believe it even as he was saying it but the writing was on the wall. “Or should I say everything Ajax said. Because he wasn’t really Mr Jenkins. You are.”

Ajax was silent for a moment. Unsure of how to respond until he finally let out a long sigh. “Eric. Let me explain.”

———

After their massive fight, Ajax had stormed out of the house with a fury in his eyes. Slamming the door behind him as he left get some air and get away Eric. He didn’t have a plan as to where he was going so he ended up just pacing up and down the street for over half an hour with a sour look on his face.

Mr Jenkins had been sitting in his living room watching TV at the time. He had a perfect view to the window looking out onto the street, allowing him to notice Ajax passing back and forth as he paced. Seeing this, he went out to investigate what was wrong. When Ajax next passed Jenkins’ house, the old man stopped him and asked what was the matter. Ajax was resistant at first but when Mr Jenkins offered him inside to chat, he gave in and took the sweet old man up on his offer.

They sat down at the kitchen table and immediately Ajax began to rant about Eric. Listing off each and every little thing he hated about his spouse. All the little habits that annoyed him, all the irritating things he would do or say. However Mr Jenkins’ found it hard to emphasise. Impossible even. Most of the things Ajax was listing off were such minor things that he seemed to be blowing out of proportion while other things were just plain stupid like complaining about how Eric didn’t fold and put away the clothes exactly how Ajax wanted after doing the washing. It was moronic to say the least. But what Mr Jenkins really hated was how much Ajax blatantly insulted Eric as he listed these things off. Calling him all sorts of horrible things while dragging his name through the mud.

It was then Mr Jenkins made a decision. It was something he’d wanted to do so badly for a very long time now. Ever since Ajax moved in across the road with Eric. Until now he didn’t have the courage to do it, believing he’d feel too guilty if he did. But now that he’d seen Ajax’s true colours, he had no regrets.

Jenkins excused himself from the table to make a cup of tea while asking Ajax if he wanted a drink of any kind. The young hunk said he’d take a cup of tea as well. Little did he know that as Jenkins brewed the tea, he added a little something extra into Ajax’s cup.

He came back moments later with two hot cups in hand, offering one the Ajax who took it kindly. They chatted a little more as the drinks cooled, Ajax’s going on some more about his petty frustrations with Eric. But soon enough the handsome younger man picked up his beverage and began to sip away at it, much to Mr Jenkins delight. Little did Ajax know that his tea had been laced with a mild sedative that was gradually starting to take effect as he came to the last few sips.

“Sorry… I’m just feelin a bit… tired all of a sudden…” Ajax slurred as he put down the cup. “I should… probably…” He could hardly finish his sentence as his eyes started to flutter. Seeing this Mr Jenkins got up from his seat to grab Ajax, making sure he didn’t fall to the floor. “Heyyy… whaaat’re youuu…” His words and mind trailed off as his body went limp, losing consciousness.

Jenkins knew he didn’t have long. The sedative might’ve knocked him out but it wouldn’t be for long. A big guy like Ajax would probably begin to wake in about an hour or so tops meaning he had to work fast. Jenkins used what little strength he had to move Ajax off the kitchen chair as gently as possible before dragging his sleeping body down the hallway and into the bedroom.

Right away Jenkins got to work. He started by unlocking the hidden safe he kept in his closet and pulled out a very old looking piece of paper. Written on it were instructions. Instructions for a forbidden magic spell that’d been passed down through his family for generations. One that’d been used many times by his spiritual ancestors. A body swapping spell.

He set up everything he needed like candles before making a circle out of magic runes around himself and Ajax. Once that was done he took a sedative himself, one that was slightly stronger and was likely to kick in very soon so there was no time to waste. He got in position and took a deep breath before taking the paper once again and reading out the ancient incantation inscribed on it. Speaking the forbidden words with as much chest as he could, trying not to lose his focus as he noticed the runes around them both begin to glow. His old heart beating faster with anticipation until finally he reached the last line.

He shouted those final words to complete the spell and in an instant the runes glowed brighter than ever before, creating some kind of magical bubble around the two men. Yet before Jenkins could even celebrate his success his body began to convulse and moments later his soul was forced out through his mouth as a glowing blue mass, leaving his elderly body limp and lifeless. This was shortly followed by the unconscious Ajax writhing around as well until a similar blue mass of spiritual energy was forced out of his mouth too!

The two energies twirled around one another for a moment until they formed into a ghostly version of the people they belonged to. A ghostly Ajax who seemed lost for words and a ghostly Mr Jenkins who was grinning at him maliciously, knowing what was going to happen next. Magic continued to pulse around the pair as their spiritual forms began to transform. Mr Jenkins’ ghost started to look younger and hunkier by the second while Ajax’s ghost grew older and withered. Only coming to an end when their souls had completely transformed into one another!

Now that Jenkins had become Ajax in soul, the only thing left was to take his physical body. After the transformation was complete their souls returned to their orb like states, spinning around each other again before launching into the open mouths of the opposite bodies they started in.

With that the magic of the spell dissipated without a trace, leaving nothing but silence. For about ten minutes anyway as that’s when ‘Ajax’ began to stir.

He groaned. His body felt heavy and tired due to the sedatives that were in his system. Yet the moment he caught sight of his body, his eyes shot open with wonder. “Haha! Yes it worked! It actually fucking worked!” Jenkins shouted and raved as he reached down to feel the strong pecs underneath his shirt with a malicious grin.

The young stud practically leapt onto his feet with excitement, moving faster and more freely than he had in years! He wasted no time in whipping off his shirt and dumping it on the floor so he could get a better look at his body and he wasn’t disappointed. “Jesus this boy is in good shape.” He mumbled as he ran a hand down the cobbled abs that decorated his stomach. “I was nowhere near as buff as this the last time I was this young.” He added, while flexing his new biceps for the first time and watching with wonder as the muscle peaked. “Fuuuck… I feel so strong!”

Every inch of his body was bulging with powerful muscle. All of it waiting to be flexed and groped. And that’s exactly what he did. Running his hands up and down his entire frame as he kicked off Ajax’s shorts. Squeezing his new pecs and pinching his nipples. Kissing his biceps as they bulged. Flexing his glutes and loving just how tight his new muscle ass felt. Not to mention how taut his skin was now. “God I’m sooo young!” He moaned as he grabbed his crotch. His new and improved cock already standing at attention and waiting to be used. “Gotta… cum!”

Jenkins shimmied down his underwear to set his vigorous new dick free. It looked gorgeous. He never thought he’d see a cock this beautiful in person ever again. And it was his! So thick and imposing just like the rest of his body. Without a single thought he wrapped a hand around it and started jerking while continuing to groping himself with his free hand.

“Oh fuuuuuuckkk! I haven’t been this rock hard in decades!” He bit his lip, pumping his young fat cock more furiously than he had in years while cupping his muscle tits and feeling their weight sit in his hand. Worshipping himself as much as humanly possible whilst moaning in his deep yet youthful voice. The sound of which only turned him on even more.

With the tremendous speed at which he was jerking, he could already tell he was starting to get close. His heavy new balls were welling up with a huge potent load. But he needed to see himself before he came. And so he glanced around the room until his eyes landed on a small mirror sitting on the bedside table. He made his way over and flipped it around to face him and the reflection that stared back almost made him cream on the spot.

“Holy fuck! I’m a hunk! My hair is so dark… and my face is so fuckin sexy!” It was taking his brain a moment to process it all. The unfamiliar reflection of a different man. He inspected the short beard that decorated his face, rubbing a hand across it while getting a feel for his new jaw. Allowing his fingers to gently glide across his lips and over his nose. Relishing how smooth his skin was. Hardly a wrinkle in sight. He inspected each individual feature with a growing lust.

“I’m Ajax…” He muttered to himself. Feeling a shiver of delight run up his spine as he said those words.

“I’m Ajax!” He repeated the claim, louder this time as he took a step back to really focus on his cock. Tightening his grip around it before hastening his pace. The thick manhood began to dribble significant amounts of precum from its tip. Just the feeling of it was overwhelming his senses in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Youthful lust consuming him.

“I’M AJAX!!!” He shouted one final time with certainty and the second he did the floodgates opened. His cock was like a cum hose, firing his potent seed halfway across the room in powerful bursts. All while he moaned like a horny beast. “Ohhhhhhh Yeahhhhhhh…” He made sure to squeeze every last drop out of his dick, watching with satisfaction as it pulsed and leaked.

The new Ajax fell back onto the bed behind him in exhaustion. Laying out his model of a body in all its sweaty glory after the hottest and most intense orgasm of his life. “My fuckin… body now…” he grunted between laboured breaths. After that he was certain he had no regrets.

He sat back up after a couple minutes once he’d caught his breath before looking down at his new body again. Eyes scanning over the strong muscle he’d stolen for himself. His gaze then shifted across the room, peering over at his former body. “Probably got a couple hours before he wakes up after that sedative.” He theorised. “More than enough time to get a bit more familiar with my new self before going to see my new boyfriend.” Ajax snickered.

Just then however his nose caught a whiff of a strong manly scent. A scent that very quickly drew his nose towards his own sweaty armpits. “Woof! That is ripe!” He quickly went in for another sniff before running his tongue along his damp pit. “Uhooo that’s goood.” Not wasting any time he quickly switched to the other pit, sniffing and licking that one too. Instantly having fallen in love with his own musk. And who could blame him!? He smelt like a proper manly muscle stud! “I should probably still get a shower before seeing Eric… but until then I’m gonna enjoy this.” He grinned.

———

“And once I was more familiar with this body, I got dressed again and made my way back here. That’s when I apologised to you in his place.” The new Ajax finished, having detailed most of what’d happened to the former Ajax as he and Eric sat side by side on the bed. He seemed sincere about it all but it was hard for Eric to tell while Ajax’s dick was still pulsing at full mast. He even touched it a couple times absentmindedly while describing what’d happened.

It was a lot for Eric to take in. Even though he’d been thinking about it over these past few days, actually hearing Ajax admit that he wasn’t the real Ajax was maddened to hear. Especially as he detailed exactly how it’d gone down. On one hand it sounded completely absurd. Yet on the other hand he couldn’t help believing it. There was no denying that Ajax had a completely different energy around him now. Even though he looked the same on the outside, he’d just felt different. And now Eric knew why.

“So… you’re Mr Jenkins. The old man who’s lived across from us for years.” Eric said as he tried to process it all.

“I was Mr Jenkins.” The musclebound stud corrected. “Now I’m your hunky boyfriend Ajax.” He smiled hesitantly before gently wrapping an arm around Eric and pulling him closer. “The difference being that I actually appreciate you and this life we have unlike the former owner of this body.”

Eric mulled over all the stuff this man had described to him, specifically all the horrible things his original boyfriend had said when he wasn’t around. He had to admit it sounded exactly like the Ajax he knew. At least when it came to complaining about all those little things anyway. But all those horrible names? The way he blamed Eric for everything? It made him wanna cry.

“But wait. How do you know so much about Ajax and me then?? Have you been spying on us all these years?” Eric questioned.

Ajax chuckled at the accusation. “No no no. Nothing like that. If anything I’ve tried to keep my distance from you two. I always thought you were a hot couple and I was a little obsessed with Ajax’s body. That said I didn’t want to seem like the creepy neighbour you know?” He explained before continuing on. “No, the reason I know so much is because the swap also transfers a bunch of memories as well. It was really strange at first. I was remembering things about Ajax that I’d never experienced despite my memories claiming I had. Like the first time I went skiing a few years back and ended up falling dozens of times before getting right. I know that I didn’t do that but because the old Ajax did, it feels like I did it as well. Same goes for most other memories. It’s pretty handy for convincing people that I’m the real deal honestly. Hell it took you about five days to figure it out and that was after that asshole came here screaming and shouting about body swaps!” He laughed again while pulling Eric closer joyously.

“Fuck… I don’t know what to say.” Eric mumbled. “Part of me wants to feel bad that you trapped him in your old body but at the same time he’d been turning into such an asshole recently. If he really said all that stuff about me to you then… I dunno” He sighed, hiding his face in his palms. “I wanna be mad at you for tricking me and pretending to be him but…”

“But I’m better?” Ajax finished. “A better man than he ever was?” He got up and stood tall over Eric with a cocky yet irresistible look on his face. Putting his hands on his hips while proudly displaying his nude body. “Come on. Haven’t these last few days been proof enough of that?”

“Y-yeah.” Eric admitted. “These last few days have been amazing. You’re kinder than he was, more considerate, funnier, happier…” his gaze then shifted to his boyfriend's fat cock, still bucking between his legs excitedly. “Better at sex…”

“Exactly! Don’t you see? This is for the best!” Ajax claimed as he took a step closer. “I get to have a strong, handsome new body and you get a boyfriend who treats you the way you deserve to be treated.” He placed a hand gently on Eric’s cheek. “And fucks you the way you deserve to be fucked.” A thick glob of precum dribbled from his cock, making him feel like such a stud.

Eric did his best not to drool at the sight, trying to keep a level head in the moment. “I… uhmm…” He took a deep breath to compose himself. “But you stole most of his life. Isn’t that wrong?” He shuffled slightly while trying to look at the moral side of all this.

Ajax smiled softly. “Look. You said it yourself, the old Ajax was an asshole. He was horrible to you and was probably going to continue being horrible to other people. Do you really think a person like that deserved a body and life like this? Or you for that matter?” The body snatcher argued. “Besides at the end of the day what’s done is done. The spell I used is a once in a lifetime kinda deal. I couldn’t swap with him again or anyone else even if I wanted. I’m Ajax forever now. Full stop.”

Eric took a moment to let it all sink in. Part of him still wanted to feel bad but the other part of him was strangely grateful. Grateful that his cold hearted boyfriend had been switched out for a much superior version. It was a lot to take in but the more he thought about it, the more he began to imagine himself and staying with this new Ajax. No more constant arguing or toxicity. Instead being a happy and healthy couple that truly loves one another. And for the first time in a while Eric could actually see a possible future where he marries this man…

“Good.” Eric stated, standing up and facing Ajax with a glimmer in his eye that the other man couldn’t quite decipher. “You’re right. He didn’t deserve this body. But you fucking do.” He reached out and gave one of Ajax’s biceps a squeeze whilst planting a kiss on one of his pecs. “You deserve all of his muscles. You deserve his stupidly handsome face. And most of all you deserve his fat cock!” With one swift movement, Eric gripped Ajax’s throbbing dick, causing the hunk to flinch and grunt slightly. Then without a moment to waste he pushed Ajax back down onto the bed. The stud looked equal parts surprised and amused.

“Ohoho! Where did this come from??” He questioned after witnessing the sudden shift in Eric’s attitude. Not that he was complaining as he watched Eric swiftly begin to undress.

“What can I say? The thought of the pervy old man from across the street stealing my boyfriend’s hot young body is starting to turn me on.” Discarding the last of his clothes, Eric hopped onto the bed before crawling on top of Ajax until that thick cock he loved so much as nestled perfectly between his ass cheeks. Did he still feel bad for the original Ajax? A little. But if what his new boyfriend said was true then there was no going back anyway. But even if they could, why would he want to go back to having a terrible boyfriend that was probably going to dump him when he could have this instead?

Ajax grinned. “Well I certainly ain’t old anymore.” He reached down and grabbed his stiff manhood and lined it up with Eric’s hungry hole. “I’m young, dumb and full. of. cum.” With that he plunged his cock deep inside causing the couple to let out a unified groan.

“Oh GOD yes!” Eric wailed just as he always did when he took that dick and even more so these last few days. Resting his hands on Ajax’s hairy pecs as he tossed his head back, feeling the entire length filling him up.

“Pervy on the other hand? Maybe just a little.” The hunk continued with a smirk before grabbing his lover’s head and pulling his face down until Eric’s nose went into one of Ajax’s pits. Forcing Eric to get a good whiff of his hunky scent while Ajax began moving his hips slightly.

“Mmmmmmmm… yeahhh!” Eric moaned as he finally pulled away from the sweaty pit. “I wish you’d done that sooner. I’ve always had a thing for his musk but he never let me smell his pits like that…”

“Heheh. I thought about it but I didn’t wanna give myself away.” Ajax admitted while reaching down and grabbing Eric's ass with both hands, using his strength to bounce the other man rhythmically on his cock. “But now that you know, I can share all my dirty little secrets with you.”

“Oh? Secrets like what?” Eric wondered.

A mischievous grin spread across Ajax’s face. “Well. I said that I couldn't use that spell to swap with anyone again. But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t use it…” He continued thrusting upwards into the bouncing ass above, feeling that tight hole clenching around his cock with desire. “Not that you have to if you’re happy the way you are. But I’m just saying… it’s an option.”

Eric almost couldn’t believe it. Swapping bodies with someone else? Already his mind was swarming with possibilities. He wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to give up his own body or not but he had to admit the idea of becoming someone else sounded thrilling! A celebrity? An athlete? Or maybe even just a hot guy he happens to pass by on the street!? The potential was limitless. “I’ll certainly keep that in mind…”

With that the couple lent in and gave each other a deep kiss before really getting to business. Eric grinding his ass down against Ajax’s dick while the other man use all of his might to thrust up as far as he could. Before long they found themselves manuvouring onto their sides with Ajax now taking up most of the responsibility. Slamming in as deep as possible to make sure he really punished Eric’s prostate with every thrust. But finally they ended up changing positions again with Eric face down on the bed, gripping onto the bed sheets for dear life, as Ajax plunged down into him from above. Utilising every ounce of power his strong jock body had to ruin his lover's welcoming hole. The wet sound of balls smacking filling the room along with seemingly endless moaning until Ajax’s load finally began to well up.

“Ohhh fuck! I’m gonna BLOW!” He warned as his thrusts became infrequent followed by a lengthy groan as he slammed down one last time.

Right away Eric could feel his insides being splattered with seed. The walls of his ass were painted in so much thick cum that it started to leak out around Ajax’s cock and drip onto the bed below before he’d even had a chance to pull out.

After a minute or so Ajax wetly dislodged himself from the hole before collapsing to the side of Eric. “You have no idea how good it feels to have sex like that again.” He mumbled through heavy breaths. “Last time I was this young, being out and gay wasn’t so simple. I found it difficult to get hook ups, never mind relationships…”

Eric smiled, looking over at his boyfriend as he felt the cum drooling from his hole. “All the more reason to make up for it now right?” He guided a cheeky hand towards Ajax’s backside before giving his gorgeous bubble ass a playful squeeze. “You know I always wondered what it would be like to stick my cock inside his ass for a change.” He hinted. “The old Ajax always said he was an exclusive top who never wanted anything near his ass… This newer, and obviously far superior, Ajax wouldn’t happen to have a slightly different opinion on that now would he?”

Ajax was silent for a moment. He mulled over what Eric was so obviously hinting towards before turning his head slightly and letting out a small sigh. “Fine. But get plenty of lube. You’re really gonna have to work me open. It’s gonna be a tight squeeze.”

[lilspudstud]

The Lead Barista

I’d been at the coffee shop for barely a week when I became obsessed with Jake, the lead barista. His cocky grin, tattoos curling up his arms, and those massive biceps he flexed for everyone—customers, coworkers, anyone who’d look—drove me wild. As a shy nerd, I just wanted to grind beans and pull shots, not lust after some blonde jock god acting like he owned the place. But when his tight black polo strained over his pecs, my hands shook steaming milk. I didn’t just want him—I wanted to be him. His confidence, his body, his life. I wanted all of it to be mine.

I found the answer on a dark web occult forum: a body suit potion. One sip, and the drinker’s essence would collapse, leaving their skin as a wearable husk. Stealing Jake’s identity sent a jolt through me, my cock twitching at the thought. I spent days sourcing rare herbs and a vial of something reeking of death, mixing them into a syrupy concentrate. Risky, but the idea of slipping into Jake’s skin made my heart pound.

That morning, I swirled the concentrate into a specialty latte. “Hey, Jake,” I called, voice steady despite the adrenaline. “Made something special. Wanna try it?”

He smirked, all swagger, and snatched the cup. “Tryna impress me, nerd?” he teased, blue eyes glinting. He downed a long sip, unaware of the foam’s faint shimmer. “Not bad,” he said, wiping his mouth. Then his face twitched, confusion flickering. “Fuck, I need a sec.” He bolted for the bathroom, clutching his stomach.

I followed, locking the door behind us. Jake was hunched over the sink, gripping it hard, breaths ragged. “What the fuck…” he gasped, voice fading as his body convulsed. His skin sagged, loosening like a deflated costume. His massive frame collapsed into a glistening heap—a perfect, empty husk of Jake, tattoos stark against lifeless skin.

Trembling, I stripped naked. The suit was warm, slick, smelling of coffee and Jake’s musky gym scent. I stepped into the legs, pulling the skin over my skinny frame. My small, nerdy cock slid into his thick, jock sausage, filling the sleeve as it stretched, transforming into a heavy, girthy rocket that pulsed with power. The suit molded to me, tattoos aligning perfectly. I tugged it over my shoulders, Jake’s pecs becoming mine, firm and heavy. His biceps, the ones I’d drooled over, bulged as I flexed, the sensation raw and intoxicating. Finally, I pulled his face over mine, his square jaw snapping into place, my lips curling into his cocky smirk.

In the mirror, Jake stared back. I ran my hands over my new chest, hard muscle rippling under my touch. His scent—coffee, sweat, pure Jake—clung to me. I pulled on his discarded black polo, the fabric tight against my stolen pecs, then slipped into his boxer briefs, his thick straight boy cock straining the fabric. I zipped up his black work pants, the obscene bulge screaming Jake. Flexing again, I nearly came, the raw power of his body overwhelming. But Jake was never late from a break.

I tied on his apron, still warm, and strode out, his confident gait second nature. His memories flooded in—all his specialty coffee drink recipes, his favorite customers’ names, his workout routines, every basic straight girl he’d fucked with that monster cock. Jake was straight, but now, with me, a gay nerd, in control, this body would fuck any guy I wanted. His chiseled frame and cocky charm were mine to wield, ready to pull any man I desired into my bed with these powerful new biceps of mine.

Sarah, one of our coworkers who had completely acted like I didn’t exist before, raised an eyebrow. “What took you so long, Jake? Checking out those big muscles again?”

I flashed his grin, leaning close. “Can’t help it, Sarah. When you look this good, the mirror’s your best friend.” I winked, giving her a firm pat on the back, pure Jake. Her flirty laugh confirmed I’d nailed it. Fucking clueless bitch—she didn’t suspect a thing. So this is what it’s like being the hot guy? Everyone laughing at your jokes, acting like you’re a god? Shit, being Jake was going to be a fucking cakewalk.

“Hey, where’s the nerdy kid?” she asked, glancing around. “Thought I saw him follow you into the bathroom. That guy’s so weird.”

I shrugged, Jake’s carefree vibe effortless. “Dunno. Guess he bailed. Yeah, total weirdo.”

Inside, I was electric. I’d stolen Jake’s body, his life, his everything—no one suspected a thing. The thrill of pulling it off, of wearing his skin like a prize, made my new cock throb. This was my life now—Jake’s confidence, his body, his world. All mine, forever.

[lilspudstud]

My new roommate had moved in about two weeks ago. Everything seemed to be going pretty well, until one morning when I watched as an all-black humanoid form drifted down the hallway towards his bedroom and slipped in through the doorway. I listened carefully from outside his room, and it sounded like he was thrashing around in the bed. I was starting to get concerned when I heard him get up and heavily stumble around the room, knocking things over on his nightstand and dresser as he did. Things seemed to settle down for a bit and I cracked open his doorway with a light knock.

I found him half-dressed, standing in front of his mirror with an odd look on his face.

“Are you… OK?” I asked him, “It sounded like…”

“I’m fine,” he said, almost convincingly, but there was a weird, menacing tone to his voice, “What are you doing in here?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to walk in on you…”

“It’s OK,” he smiled with a slightly inhuman grin. 

I saw his eyes flash empty and all-black for a moment before he blinked them back to their usual appearance. That was when I knew for sure that this wasn’t really my roommate that I was talking to.

“So, who are you?” I asked him.

“Ah,” he smirked, “I guess you caught me!” 

He turned and looked at himself in the mirror, carefully studying himself and clearly admiring what he was seeing. It was turning me on seeing him act like that, posing and checking out his body in only his socks and underwear.

“So, do you like what you see?” he teased me with a flex of his arms, “Yeah, you do. In fact, I think you’ve had your eyes on your hot hunk of a roommate here ever since he moved in, haven’t you?”

It was like he was reading my mind…

“Tell me, you’ve been fantasizing every night about getting fucked by him, haven’t you? You’ve dreamed about worshipping his body. About being dominated by him… Haven’t you?”

I gulped. It was all true.

“Well, I’ll tell you what,” he offered, “I’m going to be hopping in and out of your roommate’s body here whenever I want, using it as I please, for as long as he lives here. And as long as you promise to keep this little secret between you and me, I promise that any time I hop into his body, you’ll get a good fuck out of it. Does that sound good?”

I nodded. He smiled and pulled down the waistband of his underwear.

“Then get over here,” he commanded.

[lilspudstud]

The Boss

My boss, Bryan wanted to talk to me after shift about something. I didn’t think I was in trouble, but I wanted to avoid any uncomfortable conversations.

I made the choice to take a little promotion along with my boss’s body. Two men went into the office, and after a brief struggle, only one exited.

Looking at myself in Bryan’s body I don’t know why I haven’t done this sooner. I now have my own security firm and a great body to help represent it.

[lilspudstud]

All for Show 3

"You're not going home, Ed?" asked Oliver with his backpack strapped ready to go home

"Well, guess it's gonna be a bit more. Maya and Stephen added some feedback for the Launch Gate document that needs immediate response," replied Edward with a tired smile as he just read the text from Maya, his boss, understandably emphasizing the last few words of his reply

"Just to note, they're not even here anymore. But, to each their own. See you tomorrow," replied casually by Oliver as the last phrase came out from his mouth as a mere platitude, no thoughts really given to it

"Yeah, see you tomorrow too Oli," said Ed as if tomorrow is already promised to him

Another quiet night out at the office, he's all alone in the dark but it's not like anything might disturb him. He's been doing it for 3 years in this office, nothing's off around the building since it's a new commercial building anyway

---

As soon as he arrived at home after a quick dinner takeout of yet another plain old salad wrap, Ed just wanted to get himself under the warm water of his shower so he can quickly hop to his bed. So, with not much thought or delay, he soon stripped himself free from his suits and his underwear as he entered the shower right away.

It's highly under-rated how mood-boosting and relaxing a warm, full-blast shower after a tiring long day. Ed enjoyed every single second he got under it, his expensive body wash calmed his nerves and the way the water hit his body really feels amusing. But then, the joy and peace he found quickly vanished as he realized the weird texture and viscosity of the water. By that time, it's a little too late as he found some of the water that's been cascading down his body seemingly defying gravity and pushed itself into all the possible orifices in his face. Within seconds, it slithered through his mouth, nose and ear as he gargled for his life, to no avail.

"HHHHHNNNGGHHHHHHGKKK!!!!!" He exclaimed as his body thudded to the floor in its last act of defiance, his throat expanded to accomodate the invading presence while his back arched to a point that almost neared back-breaking territory. As his hands clawed his neck, his eyes started to flutter as it turned white rather quickly. Meanwhile, the invasive entity marched through and limb by limb, Ed lost control of his own body as he succumbed to his ultimate fate, fading in existence as his whole psyche found itself infected by the extraterrestrial invader.

The flailing form and gargling noise ended right away and silence quickly followed as if he's been sleeping all this time and not fighting for his life. And as if re-animated back to life, Ed opens his eyes and started blinking and analyzing his surrounding, the water pouring still from the shower but it's no longer thick and slimy.

Ed's neutral facial expression quickly turned into something malicious as he then slowly yet surely found his footing and then stared at the reflection of his current form in the bathroom mirror

"Damn right, stud. You're all mine to keep," Ed said sinisterly, the voice flows like silk but it wrapped something dangerous underneath it.

"Ed" grabbed his angular jawline, prominent nose and his jet black hair, admiring the chiseled structure that's been blessed to this vessel.

Then, as his eyes fluttered, more memories started to be accessible to the invading force as it relished its full control over Ed's physique and will it to then move Ed's hands around. It's naturally flowing downward, exploring the firm yet meaty sensation provided by Ed's pecs and abs. Ed cooed in excitement as he tensed all the muscle that his hands grazed.

"OHHHhhhhhh yeahhhhHHHHH baby......Edward Miles.....Ed....Eddie....this is fucking great, peak human's physique you have here,"

Processing all the memory, the extraterrestrial in control flipped through Ed's entire life as if reading through a book now it has access and control to. No one, nothing even, can stop the iron fist of its control unless taking Ed's out in the process, and it's not like it cannot move bodies in the available time window on the case if this vessel is taken down in the future. But, aside from thinking on possible exit plan in case if things go awry, the invading force drawn to a specific set of memories of Ed about power and sexual conquest

"A director.......human leaders.....sales......oh you have an army of obedient people under you, huh? What a perfect host with his bunch of minions. And look at that.....a leader outside of his work too. How many bodies that this bastard managed to lure with this look?" He said as he flexed his biceps while still staring to the mirror,

"...mmmm.....eighteen in the past year alone? That's a lot of tenant to be used by my kind, just need to make sure it's less of that weak woman form and more like the minions working under you, like Jake, or Matt, or that marketing lead with his equally bunch of minions, Oli, yeah.....those are more fitting for control," he smirked as he stared at the coagulating mass in the corner of the shower, his kind that joined him for this mission.

Looking at his wet and fully-naked reflection, an idea formed in his mind as the possessed Eddie quickly walked to the corner and grabbed a handful of the slimy, transparent mess. Eddie grabbed a scoop of the slime with a sinister smirk on his face

"Well, greedy Eddie is hungry for more, I think I can take up some more of ya nasty slime in me, I'm a freak after all," he said giddily

He swallowed the slime like it's something ordinary to do and just like that, he continued to scoop even more, stuffing his mouth full with the transparent slime until his mouth filled to the brim with it, some of them even escaped like a drool from the side of his mouth. His eyes fluttered and twitched as if he's on edge by doing so, like a freaking perverted gooner rather than a respected, ambition-fueled, handsome sales director of a multinational consumer goods empire. As his mouth cannot contain the excess slime anymore, he moved on to smear the slime all over his toned physique, making it slick and shiny as the slime takes time to penetrate his skin through the scar in his body or his navel. Then, a vivid memory of using lube that Eddie did in the past caused the alien to chuckle triumphantly as he then used Eddie's hands to grab the last batch of the slime and smothered Eddie's uncut 6.5 incher with the extraterrestrial substance. The chilling sensation caused his muscles to spasm and his mouth trembled in delight. It's a grotesque sight to witness, the hotshot sales director fully naked in the confine of his own swanky bathroom with his body slick, eyes crossed and mouth full of transparent slime as his hands corrupted himself even further by jacking his own dick with the extraterrestrial invader trying to slide in through his piss slit. Ed's subconscious already gave up the moment the controlling slime entered his system, so the figure busily jacking off and stuffed Eddie's form full of slime is practically no longer the same Eddie that just a couple hours before gave a feedback to his entire team about the pivot they need to do to be able to hit the quarterly target. In a twisted, memory corruption intended to just mess around with its human meatsuit, the extraterrestrial force fantasized that sales meeting he did with his teams into one that made it as infection hub as Ed shove his cock into each willing mouth of the meeting attendants, all the team members that looked up to him for guidance falls victim to their boss lustful desire for conquest and spreading more of the invading slimes that took refuge inside of him. The mental image and the way his piss slit invaded and filled full until it's bloating by its own kind proven to be too intense for Ed's human physique as he eventually shot its load all over his bathroom, his jaw slacked as he let out the loudest moan that then turned quiet as he just opened his mouth and loll his tongue out with no sound whatsoever while his cock still shooting ropes

"Hhhhgggghhhhhhuuhh.....ghhh.....ffuucckkkk......just an emptyy meat puppet......fucking ready to sprayyyaaahhhhahAHHAHAHA," he said to his own reflection with a chuckle

He cannot wait to make his fantasy turned into reality. Starting tomorrow, this meatsuit will help it to run the facade, the show, as "Eddie" will walk through that glass door confidently into his office building and entered the elevator all the way to the 43rd floor to then greet his teams, all ready to be infected and more spectacularly, can help him takeover the entire other team as he pleases. There's also an exciting campaign to shoot in the office tomorrow, maybe he can infect more of those advertising people? Pretty sure, based on the portfolio, the models are going to be stunning, they will look even better when white, sticky cream streaked on their face and slithered to then take control of their body.

But, as the darkness of the night sky already enveloping the skyline and Eddie's prepared to sleep as he tried to strip off his bathing robe, a buzzing text message from Eddie's best friend in college, Kyle, that he still met every month or so, appeared

"Dude, I'm in that new club just two blocks away from your place. Come swing by!"

Eddie smirked. Well, guess there's always a detour worth to explore? Besides, from the memory of Eddie that it learned, Kyle worked for this talent management agency, the people looked good and are well-connected to the higher echelon influencers and celebrity that will surely come in handy. So, with not much thinking, instead of hopping to the bed butt-naked, under half an hour, Eddie already arrived on the dance floor and quickly befriended all Kyle's friends. All of them will be subjugated under his control by the end of the night, if everything goes smoothly

[lilspudstud]

The Sacrifice

"How’s he holding up?" Damien asked, eyes flicking between the road and the rearview mirror. His voice was low, steady — but not calm. More like someone trying to stay ahead of whatever came next.

Julian didn’t answer right away. He was half-turned in his seat, gaze fixed on the figure stretched across the backseat. It was the look of someone watching something they’d waited a long time to touch.

"Out cold," Julian finally said. "Didn’t even flinch."

Cyrus Kaviri lay slumped across the seat, breathing slow and deep. His head lolled toward the window, a muscular arm across his chest, the other hanging at his side. The guy was huge and handsome — even unconscious. He looked too solid to be vulnerable. But the sedative had worked.

Julian’s eyes moved over him again, slow and deliberate.

"God, look at him," he murmured.

Damien tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "We’ve got maybe an hour before the dose wears off."

Julian didn’t respond. His hand drifted down to rest on Cyrus’s package. Feeling the tool of a man he envied — in more ways than one — was unreal. But it was real, in a way Julian hadn’t been able to process until now.

"Finally, I’ll be with Lila," Julian said, almost absently.

Damien gave him a quick look. "You sure that’s why you’re doing this?"

Julian’s eyes flicked up. "I told you. He’s disrespecting her. You’ve seen him."

"Yeah, I’ve seen him," Damien muttered.

Julian smiled faintly. "He wasn’t even on my radar. Never talked to him, not really. I’d see him coming home from practice, flexing in the driveway. Cocky, sweaty, shirt off like he was proud of it. I figured he was just another neighborhood jock. But then…"

He trailed off.

"Then you saw him with her," Damien said.

Julian nodded once, jaw tight.

"Lila is everything. I was desperate, hiding, knowing I had no chance. And then… she ends up with him."

He looked at Cyrus again, fingertips grazing the fabric stretched across the man’s chest.

"She could’ve had someone who actually saw her."

Damien exhaled sharply through his nose. "Or you could just move on like a normal person. But anyway… I’m glad you joined in, even though the risk is way too high."

Julian’s hand froze. His eyes didn’t move.

"I don’t want to move on," he said quietly. "I want to be the reason her life gets better."

Damien didn’t reply. The only sounds were the hum of the road and the steady breath of the man they’d stolen.

After a moment, Julian spoke again, softer now.

"You’ve read the ritual more times than I have. You said it’ll work."

Damien nodded. "It has to."

Julian finally looked away from Cyrus, just long enough to glance at Damien.

"This is about to be permanent, right? If I panic halfway through — if I second-guess — it could fracture both of us. I could end up stuck in pieces. Or worse, he could stay, and I just rot inside."

Julian turned back toward the backseat. His voice was calm.

"I’m not going to panic."

He studied Cyrus again — the jawline, the thickness of his neck, the massive, calloused hands. The golden chain peeking from under his shirt. The scent: clean, faintly sweet cologne mixed with sweat. Real. Tangible.

"I want this," Julian said. "I’ve always wanted this. I just didn’t know how badly until I saw him get away with everything."

He leaned closer, voice dropping to something private. His fingertips brushed lightly along the hard swell between Cyrus’s thighs — reverent, obsessive.

"Now he will be mine."

Damien didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The ritual site was half a mile ahead — an empty clearing wrapped in silence and shadow. Everything was ready.

"Just remember," Damien said, quieter now, "this doesn’t turn you into a better version of you. It turns you into him. There’s no going back."

Julian smiled faintly, eyes locked on the sleeping face of the man he would become.

"That’s the point."

The car rolled into the trees.

————

The door closed as Damien stepped out for a breath. The ritual had drained him — like something had been ripped from his chest and filled with molten heat. He had done it. He had created a bodysuit — a living, wearable skin.

Julian’s obsession had made it possible. His envy wasn’t just convenient — it was essential. The process required two humans: one body to store the soul of the man whose flesh would be transformed, and another to act as the devouring vessel. That was the trick. Julian thought he was becoming Cyrus — stealing his life, his power, his body. But in truth, it was Cyrus’s soul that consumed. It swallowed Julian whole, not with malice, but by design. Damien had crafted every step of it.

Once Cyrus’s essence was preserved, his body could be emptied, reshaped, and re-bound. Transformed into something new. Julian’s body would stay unconscious for some time — a vessel without a voice, a meat puppet without spark. And that gave Damien time. Time to breathe. Time to admire what he had built.

It had been dumb luck that Julian had brought up Cyrus — the jealousy, the longing, the obsession. The moment Damien heard that name, he knew: this was it. The perfect opportunity to see the world from a different angle. A better body. A better man. Julian Cross no longer existed. Not really.

Damien stepped back into the room, slowly, barefoot and shirtless. The wooden floor creaked beneath his weight — new weight, denser and distributed differently. Even the way his hips moved felt altered: lower center of gravity, broader chest, thicker thighs. Every step carried mass.

He walked toward the mirror, stopped, and stared.

There he was. Cyrus Kaviri. Towering. Sculpted. Breathing. His skin — that warm Persian bronze — glowed under the soft light bleeding through the blinds. Shoulders rolled out like slabs of stone. His chest — high, round, perfectly built — was beaded with sweat, each drop catching the light along the ridged curve of his pecs. Below, abs cut into geometry flexed and braced with every slow breath.

He lifted one arm — unhurried, deliberate — and watched the bicep swell into a vascular arc of strength. Veins shifted beneath the skin like cables under tension.

He reached for the gold chain, fastening it around his neck. It settled easily — snug against his collarbones, a siganture piece. Damien’s breath hitched. Not out of shock. Not anymore. But because the man in the mirror didn’t feel foreign… or familiar. He felt home.

The smirk came without effort. It belonged there. Thick brows. Green-gray eyes that stared like they already knew the world’s response. Full lips, shaped for taking, for owning. Even the way the sweat traced curves down his abs looked too intentional to be real. He wasn’t just wearing Cyrus’s skin. He was Cyrus.

Leaning closer to the mirror, the ritual’s heat still slicking his body, he breathed in the layered scent — cologne, heat, and something faintly primal. He lifted one hand — big, calloused, vascular — and dragged it across his jaw, feeling the trimmed edge of his beard. The skin was rough in the best way, tactile and masculine. His thumb brushed his lips, parting them slightly. They were full, shaped just right, and impossibly his now.

"I look like a goddamn Persian prince," he whispered.

The sound of his own voice stopped him. Not just for what he said — but for how he said it.

It was perfect. Deep. Smooth. Brushed with that faint Tehran lilt, Americanized into something sleek and magnetic. It vibrated with calm confidence, even in a whisper. Not just deeper than Damien’s old voice — more appealing.

He watched his lips shape the words, felt the vibration ripple through his chest. His chest. No flinch this time. The strange moment of dissonance was gone. He smiled.

Not the sheepish grin Damien used to hide behind. Not the tight-lipped grimace he gave passing mirrors — full of self-consciousness or longing. This was the Cyrus smirk. Tight. Tilted. Unreadable. And it felt natural, like he’d always smiled that way. Like it had never belonged to anyone else.

He tilted his head, letting a bead of sweat slip from the dark ends of his hair down the slope of his neck. His eyes locked on the mirror again — that green-gray intensity, like a wolf deciding whether to bite or beckon. He rolled one shoulder, savoring the way the muscle slid and bunched beneath the skin. Even that simple motion felt different.

He watched himself chew slowly, flexing his jaw on instinct, letting the beard frame every twitch of muscle. It sharpened his features — masculine without being brutish. He looked like someone pulled straight from a cologne ad.

He spat at the mirror, then leaned in. Stared into those green-gray eyes.

He touched his chin, feeling the trimmed edge of his beard — every hair, every pore, alive beneath his fingertips. He let his hand slide down his neck, over his ample chest, and then lower until he could grasp his new cock. As he jerked off, he licked his delicious saliva from the mirror. All these sensations, like the touch and the taste, were like a reward he had long awaited.

I just knew that creep Julian was fucking jealous of me.

The thought came unbidden, and it made him smirk. It wasn’t just his own voice in his mind anymore — it was Cyrus’s. His original thoughts were bleeding into the man’s instincts, merging into something new and seamless.

A load of his semen splattered on the mirror, and he was eager to taste the purest essence of the notorious Cyrus Kaviri.

It tastes damn good, just like you, stud—just like me.

A smile flitted across his face. He didn't mind wiping it away, and he strutted into the room where some of his clothes were lying around. Damien could now easily imitate the natural self-confidence and swagger that characterized Cyrus' gait.

He picked up the underpants, stuck his nose in them, and enjoyed their scent.

The scent of a Persian warrior. Mine.

Sliding them on felt like sealing himself inside the role — the first layer of the man the mirror now showed him. He turned, caught that reflection, and flexed, admiring the way Cyrus Kaviri’s form obeyed his will.

The jeans hugged his legs in all the right ways — snug over the thighs, tapering down to clean lines at the ankle. Pulling them up had been an exercise in control, not because the fit resisted, but because he savored the process. Every inch of fabric sliding over muscle felt like confirmation. The belt slid through the loops with a practiced flick, the leather catching briefly on the buckle before snapping into place.

The T-shirt came next — soft, pale grey, clinging instantly to the cut of his shoulders, the rise of his chest. It stretched in the slightest way across his pecs, then settled against his torso as though it had been tailored for him alone. A quick tug flattened the hem against his waist. The gold chain lay visible at the collar, glinting when he moved.

He glanced at himself in the mirror, tilting his head. Fixing his hair the usual way. Then he let a hand running down his chest, letting his fingers linger at the belt buckle before meeting his own gaze again in the mirror.

The smirk deepened — pure Cyrus. His voice came out smooth, deep, threaded with that Tehran edge.

"Man kheili khoshgelam… vaghte un shode ke be Lila neshon bedam che javayee barande shode."

It tasted perfect in his mouth.

I’m looking damn good… time to show Lila what prize she’s won.

————

Julian’s body — pale, slack, abandoned — was still. The chest convulsed. A low, guttural breath escaped the parted lips, thick with something that wasn’t quite human. And then the body went still again.

Outside, the car pulled away...

[lilspudstud]

The Spotter

I was done with my classes for the day. I went to the gym right off campus. I normally go there to unwind from the stress of going to college.

I Enjoy working out. Look at me. I'm pretty much a college student bodybuilder.

I was getting the weight setup on the bar to do some bench pressing. That's when bit older gentleman came up and says, hey do you need a spotter.

I looked at him. He had about 10 years on me if not more. Was about five inches shorter than me and I don't know if he was able to even handle the weight I had on the bar.

I could handle the weight myself, but I humored him and said sure if you want.

As I started my set. He took position. I was on my third rap when he placed his hand on the bar.

It felt like a power surge went through my body. The weights started seemed to get heavier and heavier. I don't understand this should be easy for me.

I was more focused on getting the weights backup. Why wasn't he spotted me, as he watched me struggling.

That's when I noticed he was transforming before my eyes.

I started watching the pecs grow larger, his arms has legs, his abs where ripped..

He was growing younger.

He only had his hands resting on the bar. The weigh was getting heavier and heavier as he was growing in size. Taller, buffer.

Then I looked at his face he was growing younger.

He could see I was struggling by the look on my face. He was turning into me. I changing into him. I struggled as watching all my hard work drain away from my body into his.

I couldn't even talk or yell out. I was trapped under the weight of the barbell. He then place one of his hands and top of my head.

My whole life was being erased from my mind and transferred to his. Where his life was taking its place.

I swear I blacked out for a second as I tried to push the weight of the barbell back up.

When I regain myself, that's when this buff college student was lifting the weight off my chest.

He pulled the weight off my chest and put it back on the stand. He smiled with a big grin. Tell me I shouldn't be trying such a great amount of weight without a spotter.

I was too busy trying to catch my breath my head was spinning. What was I thinking trying to bench press that.

I sat there on the bench drinking my water. I was trying to pull myself back together. As the young college student want that off into the locker room.

I can't believe I stole that kid's body and his life. I'm so handsomenow. And look at all these muscle. Trapping him under all that weight as I stole his body and his youth. To be young again, his life, going to college. He was perfect.

I packed up my gear and headed back to the dorms had studying to do.

[lilspudstud]

The Rookie (2)

All the alcohol has taken its effect and Kurt’s body isn’t used to it. You pass out almost immediately. The funny thing about body possession is when you are asleep it’s as if the former occupant takes over. Your dreams are either memories they have had or are about things they liked. You keep dreaming about tomorrow’s game.Going over all the plays, moves and formations you have been practicing to get ready for the big game. Then you start dreaming about your encounter with Michelle and how you almost “got some” of that… Clearly Kurt is a jock and straight. It’s in his DNA. You wake up and think how funny it is that you didn’t think of the encounter with Scott which clearly you were more turned on by. Suddenly you feel sick. It’s all the booze you drank and it’s making its way back up. You run to the bathroom in your bedroom and hurl. The puke partially missing the toilet.   Brushing your teeth you look back in the mirror at your reflection and think to yourself “I gotta find out what my younger brother Tyler knows. This new life is fucking awesome and I don’t plan on giving it up.”

You know from Kurt’s memories that you tends to sleep in the nude, but slide on a pair of AnF boxer briefs as you make your way to your brother’s room.

Lights are off. You walk up to him and slightly nudge him and say: “Hey buddy. I need to talk to you.” Half asleep he says: “Kurt?” (Confused as he is barely awake) “What’s wrong?” You answer: “Nothing man. Come to my room real quick. I need to ask you something.”

Tyler is wearing is AnF boxer briefs too.  He clearly looks up to his older brother and is always trying to dress like him, follow in taking up football and listening to the same music, working out nonstop. Sometimes he even tries to talk like him which Kurt finds annoying as hell. They get into Kurt’s room. Kurt closes the door and says “Sit down on the bed Tyler. I need to ask you something.” Tyler sits down knowing something isn’t right. In fact, he has a pretty good idea of what it’s about.

Kurt points to the gym bag and says: “Dude. Why the fuck are you going through my shit!”

Tyler gets nervous and starts to ramble: “Kurt, you have clothes and a wallet from some guy who has been missing. It’s all over the news. Why do you have his things? I’m going to tell Mom and Dad. Something’s not right. Are you in trouble?” Your mind starts to race. This punk younger brother of yours is going to rat you out. There’s no way you will be able to explain the wallet, clothes and stuff from some missing guy. Suddenly you get the idea that you better take over Tyler’s body and get rid of this and keep him from ratting you out. “Hey fucker you are going to learn not to mess with other people’s shit”. You quickly slide off your AnF boxer briefs and begin to push yourself into Tyler’s body. He starts to squirm. Saying: “What are you doing Kurt?!!” and lets out a squeal. You’re much bigger and it’s easy to slide from Kurt’s body into Tyler’s. You both pass out for a few seconds from the transference. You come to first in Tyler’s body. Looking down at your now bigger brother Kurt who has his body back. He’s starting to come to. It’s a shame you think, that you had to leave such a fine athletic body and everything going for him. But you will get it back soon. Kurt can’t remember the last few seconds of what took place. You have the ability to tweak their memory before you leave the possession of one’s body and give it back to the original occupant. Kurt looks down at his boxer briefs around his ankles and quickly almost knee jerk reaction pulls them up and then looks over at you confused. Just then your mom walks in. “Boys what’s going on? Why are you up? I heard you yell Tyler.”

Kurt is rubbing his eyes. Still looking puzzled. You jump in saying: “ I heard Kurt puking in his bathroom and ran into see what was wrong.” Their mom looks at Kurt. “Are you sick honey? Wait.. Have you been drinking?” Kurt answers: “Nah Mom. I’ll be ok. I just need to lay down and get some rest.” Their Mom answers: “You boys get in bed. Kurt, you have a big game tomorrow and should be rested.” Then turns and leaves the room. Kurt fumbles to get in bed. You pour him a glass of water and set it on his night stand. Then as he passed out you grab the clothes and wallet which could have busted your new life. 

Making your way back to Tyler’s (now your bedroom) you hide the stash under your bed. Just as you do this some Playboy magazine’s slide out from under your bed. Tyler’s memories start to come back to you as you are now him. These are Playboy magazines you have “borrowed” from Kurt’s stash he keeps in his closet. You start to flip through them laying on Tyler’s (now your) bed. You begin to feel your dick getting hard and start to press against the elastic band on your AnF boxer briefs. You slide your hand in while you continue to look at the magazine. You are startled at what your hand finds. Not only is your dick hard and with a bit of pre-cum starting to ooze out. You’ve got an identical package to your now older brother Kurt.   You run to your bathroom. Flip on the light. Look at yourself in the mirror and quickly pull down your boxer briefs. Looking back at you is what could pass as a 15 year old version of Kurt. You hadn’t noticed how much you looked like when you were in Kurt’s body. But, standing there naked and erect you could see the muscular body of a slightly younger athlete.

You caulk your head like Kurt and flash a mischievous grin and say softly to yourself in the mirror…”I wonder if Scott would be into Kurt’s younger brother.”  

This makes your way hard and you slide into your bed and begin to jerk off and explore your new body. You clearly have a matched libido as your older brother and go at it jerking off, whipping it up, spraying more jizz into a towel over and over until you fall asleep from all the action.

Moring comes and you wake up a bit confused. You look around and realize you are in Tyler’s room. In Tyler’s body and run to confirm your reflection in the bathroom mirror. You think to yourself how weird it is that you slept in. From Tyler’s memories you know that you always go running with your older brother in the mornings. It’s been a ritual since you both started playing football. You clean up what’s left from last night’s jerk off fest and slide on a clean pair of boxer briefs. Checking yourself out in the mirror you flex your bicep and say “This body aint half bad. In a couple years I’ll be just like Kurt…” Then, playing it up you run into your older brother’s bedroom and throw yourself on his bed. And say: “Wake up Kurt! Today’s the big game. Mom, Dad and I are going to see you play today too.” Kurt moans and says “Tyler, don’t you ever knock?!!” He stretches as he gets outa bed and you look at him wondering how much he remembers from yesterday’s events. You also think to yourself as you look at your now older brother “I gotta get back into that body and life real soon.”

Kurt instinctively slips in to “pre-game mode” where all his thoughts were focused on winning today’s football game for the Vikings. As soon as he stood up out of bed he began the ritual of push-ups, crunches, and free weights. Meanwhile you slip out and head back to your room. You pull out the rucksack, clothes and wallet of your former self. You begin with taking a pair of scissors and cut up the driver’s license (putting it in the trash and then taking the garbage out), you then take the rucksack and figure you will get rid of it on a run. You look around Tyler’s room trying to remember where you keep your running gear. “That’s right. Third drawer in my dresser” and smile.   You pull out his Under Armour skins and slide them on and head out the door for your run. You remember seeing a Salvation Army clothing drop-off the night before when you were Kurt and run that direction. As you run you’re amazed at just how athletic your new body is. The harder you run and push it the better it responds. Clearly you are a jock in the making and have the stamina to be just as good of a high school jock if not better than your older brother. You smile as you run thinking “I can’t wait 2 years in this body for that to happen. I want it all now!”

—

Back at home Kurt continues his pre-game routine. Drinking a Muscle Milk and continuing with some free weights and continuing to work on getting ready for the game. He has a throbbing headache from the night before and can’t seem to remember the night’s events. There was something about a party… and was that dream he had about Michelle real or just a dream? 

Kurt looks over across the room while doing some bicep curls and notices Scott’s coat hanging on the back of the door. “That’s weird he thinks… I wonder why I have his coat? He must have left it in the truck or something.” Still no idea that the night before they were showing each other their cocks and were lip locked in his truck. Just then you burst into his room as Tyler back from your run, wet and smile as your older brother. “So what’s the winning score going to be today Kurt?” Kurt smiles back. “Dude the Bobcats aren’t even going to score a single point” and then continues to work his arms with the free weights. You grab one of his dumbbells and begin working your arms just like your brother is. The whole time looking at him and thinking about the previous night’s events and how badly you need to get back in his body. Your Under Armour running gear is clinging to your body like a second skin, wet from the run and a bit snug over your lean but defined muscles in your arms, chest, butt and thighs. Suddenly you realize that part of the dampness is warm and coming from your now hardening dick. Looking over in the mirror in Kurt’s room you can see your athletic shorts are starting to tent up and a small dark spot is now growing as the pre-cum starts to make its way out of your semi hard… wait, now very hard dick. You turn and say…”Time for me to hit the shower” and leave your older brother’s room. Kurt noticed nothing and continues with his pre-game workout.

You run to your bedroom and quickly lock the door as you don’t want Mom or Dad to see you like this. Heading into the bathroom you leave a trail of your running gear thrown all over the floor and make you way to your shower. You turn on the shower real hot and hop in. Guys have this thing where on their “game day” they don’t jerk off it has to do with the belief that they need all their testosterone to win the football game. You know Kurt will be following this and just getting ready for the big game. You chuckle as you don’t have to follow this as you aren’t playing today and are free and clear to have some fun. Under the hot stream of water you take another look at your package and start to tend to the matters as hand. Jerkin’ off your fine piece of manhood you quickly spray your jizz about the shower in a rush of ecstasy. You keep going back to your hard dick which has taken over all you thoughts at this point and keep pleasuring yourself. You start to probe Tyler’s (now your) memories and learn that he’s just become sexually aware of himself in the last year. No real encounters beyond a kiss. He is still a virgin by all rights. He’s been aware of his brother’s status as the campus jock and often fantasized about getting it on with one of or many of his girlfriends. This drives you wild as you pump your meat. Maybe you should stay in Tyler’s bod and lose his virginity you think. Then with a final rush of manhood spraying out of your cock you say “Fuck that!” and spray all over the shower.

Stepping out you look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is wet and looks kind of the way Kurt wears his. You are once again taken back by how much you look like your older brother.

“What if I am unable to get back into Kurt’s bod and I am stuck here” you think. Then with a mischievous smile you start to style your hair like Kurt’s.The resemblance is uncanny and you are surprised once again how much you look alike. You know from Tyler’s memories that you have a tradition of wearing your Junior High School Football jersey at all your brother’s games. You slip this on and slide on a pair of Levis. Looking at your young athletic bod in the mirror and smiling. “Not bad for 15” you think and smile. Heading downstairs you grab one of Kurt’s ‘Muscle Milks’ from the fridge. Your Mom walks in and looks at you somewhat confused thinking you are Kurt with your new hair style. She just smiles and says: “The two of you look more alike every day. I thought you were Kurt at first Tyler”. You tell Mom that you meet them at the game. You are going to see if you can sit on the side lines and watch your brother play today. Mom says: “Your brother has already left for the game Tyler”. “Huh?” you say. “No worries I will see you guys there.” Heading upstairs you go into your brother’s bedroom and reach for Scott’s coat which was hanging on the back of his bedroom door. You slide it on and take a deep smell which reminds you of last night’s encounter with him when you were in Kurt’s bod and you head out the door.

—

Meanwhile Kurt is driving to the High School gym. He looks at his cell phone and sees the text messages between him and Scott from last night and is confused. Still not remembering all that happened the night before he wonders if this had to do with his dream of Michelle. Did something happen with the three of them?

Now on campus Tyler (you) are heading toward the gym. You head off to your seat when someone yells “Yo. Kurt. Wait up bro.” Scott comes running up to you thinking you are your older brother Kurt and grabs you turning you around. Just as he does he looks at you and then looks somewhat confused. Just then your older brother Kurt comes running up.  “Hey Scott.” He says.  “I see you’ve met my younger brother Tyler”. “Brother? More like twins.” He says. “I thought it was you as he is wearing my jacket I loaned you.” “Tyler!” Kurt shouts. “You have to stop going into my room and taking my shit”. Scott say’s “It’s cool bro. He’s family.” And clearly doesn’t mind. Kurt takes a second look at Tyler a bit surprised at how much he looks like him with his hair styled the same way. It’s almost like looking in a mirror. “Can you ask Coach Reynolds if I can sit on the side lines with the team during today’s game?” you ask. “I am sure that will be ok” Kurt responds and the three of you head off to the gym.

Scott and Kurt walk on either side of you as you in their football uniforms as you enter the gym. Several cheers let out when the teammates see the two football jocks enter the room. Steve runs up to Scott and Kurt and says: “Is it true the two of you had a three way with Michelle last night?” Scott says: “no comment” and laughs. Kurt looks over at him now thinking this must have been what the text messages were about and follow his lead. Coach Reynolds lets you sit on the side lines and you get a first-hand encounter of today’s game. After all, your older brother is the super star. Things could not have gone better for the Vikings and the hand offs, plays and routines go all by the playbook. In fact both Scott and Kurt could not have been more in tune with each other as they carried their team

Sitting on the side lines you got some of the cheerleader’s attention. Michelle and others kept talking to you about your older brother when not watching him on the field. That’s the thing that sucks about being 15. You are 15. And no matter what you do the ladies just think of you as “the cute younger brother” and nothing more. You start to play this up a bit and keep talking about how great Kurt is and what an athlete he was back at your old hometown. Looking out at Kurt on the field you can’t help but be jealous. Watching his perfect moves. Getting all the cheers and the playful ‘slaps on the ass’ from Scott and his teammates on the field between plays.

The Vikings won the game and as Kurt had predicted the Bobcats didn’t even get the chance to score one point. The crowd went wild and the teammates carried both Scott and Kurt off the field while everyone in the stands cheered. You followed to the locker room and figured you better hand out and make sure that Scott didn’t reveal anything about the prior night. You remind your older brother that Mom and Dad are taking you both to dinner at Olive Garden after the game. Kurt is cool with that and jumps in the locker room shower to get cleaned up. You can’t help notice that Scott does the same and before you know it the two jocks are showering right next to each other. Nothing happens. But you are so longing to get back into Kurt’s bod it’s driving you crazy. After Kurt dries off and gets dressed he says “Come on Tyler, time for dinner.” and the two of you head out of the locker room.

Scott runs up and says “Hey man. Text me later if you wanna hang bro.”

Kurt responds: “Not sure I can hang tonight man. Family time” and gestures over at Tyler. As you walk to the truck with Kurt you tell him what a great job he did in today’s game. The two of you could not be closer friends right now.

—

At dinner your parents keep telling Kurt how proud they are of him and what a great job he did today. You jump in and add your commentary too. Toward dessert your parents see some old friends of theirs in the bar and ask if Kurt wouldn’t mind taking you home so they can catch up. Kurt agrees and drives the two of you back to the house.

On the drive home your mind races. How can you get back into Kurt’s bod. All of a sudden it comes to you…

The two of you talk a bit and then you start to pretend to fall asleep as you get closer to the house. As you guys pull up in the driveway Kurt nudges you and says: ”Come on Tyler. Wake up bro. I am too fucking tired to carry your ass upstairs.”

You pretend to wake up and follow your brother into the house watching his every move. He slowly makes his way up the stairs and you follow behind. The day’s game has worn him out and he will soon sleep like a rock. He makes his way to his room and you head down to yours. “Nite buddy” he says to you and plops down on his bed. You say: “Good night Kurt”. You know that if this is ever going to work and if you are ever going to get back into Kurt’s body it will need to be when he is sleeping and completely tired. Kurt is bigger than Tyler and this will make it harder for you to push into his bod.You’ll need every advantage. Also knowing you will need to act fast before Mom and Dad get home, you give it a good 30 minutes. Then, you make your way into your brother’s room. He is laying there on the bed face up still in his underwear. You slide off your boxer briefs and jump backward on to him with one great push. The impact wakes up Kurt and he’s not sure if this is a dream or what is going on. You push harder and harder into him. Then finally in one last push… BAM! Tyler goes flying off the bed as Kurt pushes him back. It’s too late and you have already taken control of Kurt’s body. You’ve got it back! Tyler falls off the bed and wakes up confused. You look over at him and say: “Fuck’n A Tyler. I didn’t see you asleep in my bed. If you want to sleep in here with me it’s cool. Just put your boxer briefs on man. It’s weird seeing my bro naked!” Tyler’s completely disoriented and grabs his underwear, pulls it on and crawls back in bed. Too tired to go down the hallway to his own bed. You, in Kurt’s bod caulk your head and say “This is fucking awesome…” under your breath looking at your reflection in the bedroom mirrors. Tyler has collapsed for exhaustion and is lying on his big brother’s chest. Before you turn off the light on your dresser you reach for Kurt (now your) phone and text Scott: “Hey man. Can’t make it out tonight. How about we meet up tomorrow instead”. You close your eyes knowing you won the game, got Kurt’s body back and now need to see how far you and Scott will take this.

The End

Source: “The Rookie” by Sean Mitchell & Anonymous

[lilspudstud]

Possessed by Pleasure

(AI Generated)

The summer sun beat down mercilessly on the empty park, the air thick with humidity that clung to everything like a second skin. Colton, a broad-shouldered college jock with a mop of blonde hair plastered to his forehead, chucked another rock at the ducks gliding across the pond. The splash echoed in the stillness, the ducks scattering with indignant quacks. He wiped sweat from his brow, his tank top soaked through, clinging to his chiseled frame. 

Nearby, Samuel sprawled across a weathered bench, his muscular legs splayed wide, fanning himself lazily with his baseball cap. His thick, curly mullet dripped sweat onto his neck, the dark brown strands matted against his tanned skin. His hairy chest glistened under the open shirt he hadn’t bothered to button, the heat making him careless.

“Man, this summer’s a fuckin’ drag,” Colton groaned, tossing another rock. “No parties, no chicks, just our dumbass parents nagging us about school.”

Samuel snorted, tilting his cap back to reveal his sharp green eyes. “Tell me about it, bro. My old man’s on my case about grades again. Like I give a shit about calculus when I could be balls-deep in some sorority girl.” He grinned, crude and unapologetic, scratching at the coarse hair on his chest. “Remember that blonde from the Kappa house? Swear she was begging for it after, like, two beers.”

Colton laughed, a low, arrogant sound. “Yeah, dude, you’re such a stud. Bet she’s still dreaming about that mullet tickling her thighs.” 

They cackled, their voices carrying across the empty park, brimming with the careless bravado of youth. They were kings of their own small world, untouchable in their shared arrogance, lazy in their disregard for anyone but themselves.

Boredom gnawed at them, the kind that made trouble sound like fun. “Let’s head into town,” Samuel suggested, sitting up and cracking his knuckles. “Steal some shit, mess with people. You know, the usual.”

Colton’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Fuck yeah. Let’s see how many of those old farts we can piss off before dinner.” 

They grabbed their stuff, littering the park with empty soda cans and chip bags without a second thought, and kicked over a “No Loitering” sign by the park entrance for good measure. The crunch of metal under Samuel’s sneaker made them both laugh as they sauntered toward town, their strides long and confident.

The main street was quiet, the heat keeping most folks indoors. They passed a diner, where Samuel flipped off a waitress who glared at them through the window, and stopped outside an antique store tucked between a barber shop and a laundromat. The faded sign read “Mabel’s Oddities,” and the window displayed dusty trinkets and creepy porcelain dolls that made Colton shudder exaggeratedly.

“This place looks like a fuckin’ haunted house,” he muttered, but his grin betrayed his interest.

Inside, the air was musty, thick with the scent of old wood and mothballs. Shelves overflowed with junk—rusted candelabras, chipped teacups, a taxidermied owl that seemed to stare right through them. Behind the counter sat an old woman, her hair a wild nest of gray, her eyes sharp and suspicious. She wore a shawl that looked older than the town itself, and her voice rasped like dry leaves when she warned them, “Don’t touch nothin’ unless you’re buyin’.”

“Yeah, yeah, chill, grandma,” Samuel said, flashing a smirk as he poked at a brass lamp. 

The woman, presumably Mabel, glared but said nothing, her fingers tightening around a cane propped against the counter. Colton wandered toward the back, nudging Samuel and nodding toward a glass case behind the counter. Inside was an ancient tome, its leather cover cracked and adorned with strange, swirling sigils that seemed to pulse under the dim light. A small brass lock held it shut, glinting faintly.

“Dude,” Colton whispered, his eyes gleaming. “That book looks like some Harry Potter shit. Bet it’s worth something.”

Samuel’s grin widened. “Let’s snag it. You distract the old hag, I’ll grab it.” 

Colton nodded, sauntering to the back of the store where he “accidentally” knocked over a shelf of glass figurines. The crash was deafening, and Mabel hobbled over, cursing under her breath. Samuel seized the moment, slipping behind the counter with the grace of a practiced thief. His fingers worked quickly, picking the lock on the case with a paperclip he kept in his pocket for exactly this kind of thing. The tome was heavier than it looked, its pages yellowed and brittle, but he tucked it under his arm and whistled sharply. Colton bolted for the door, Samuel close behind, their laughter echoing as they sprinted down the street.

Mabel stood at the entrance, shaking her fist and screaming, “You little shits! You’ll regret touchin’ that book!” 

Samuel turned, flipping her off with both hands. “Suck it, you old bitch! Go back to your cauldron!” They disappeared around the corner, the tome pressed against Samuel’s sweat-soaked shirt, their cackling fading into the humid air.

—

Back at Samuel’s house, the two sprawled in the living room, the AC barely keeping up with the heat. The tome sat on the coffee table, its presence oddly commanding. Its leather cover was warm to the touch, the sigils seeming to writhe when caught in the corner of their eyes. Colton pried open the lock with a pocketknife, revealing pages filled with incomprehensible text, the ink faded but still dark in places, some smeared with what looked like dried blood. The metallic scent hit them both, and Samuel wrinkled his nose. “What the fuck is this? Some kinda vampire diary?”

Colton flipped through, stopping on a page with a vivid illustration. It showed a circle of naked figures—men and women locked in a writhing, orgiastic embrace around a pentagram. Above them hovered a horned creature, its form both grotesque and alluring, with a tail curling like smoke. 

“Yo, check out the tits on that one,” Colton said, pointing at a woman in the drawing, his voice dripping with juvenile glee.

Samuel laughed, but his eyes caught something else—a scrawled translation beneath the pentagram, written in shaky Latin. 

“Hey, look at this. Someone wrote what it says.” Without thinking, he read the words aloud, his voice stumbling over the unfamiliar syllables: “Ego invoco te, Xaz’zaraul, filius Asmoseros, dominus libidinis…” 

The incantation rolled off his tongue, each word heavier than the last, until the final syllable hung in the air like a thunderclap.

The world went silent. The hum of the AC, the distant chirp of cicadas, even the creak of the house all vanished. The air thickened, pressing against their skin, and a wave of dread washed over them, primal and suffocating. 

Colton’s eyes widened. “Yo, Sam, you feel that?”

Before his friend could answer, a deep, sultry voice purred from behind them, “Oh, I definitely felt that.”

Hands, warm, strong, and unnervingly heavy suddenly settled on their shoulders. They yelped, scrambling forward and spinning to face the intruder.

He was massive, at least seven feet tall, his skin a deep, blood-red that seemed to glow faintly in the dim room. Black, wiry hair covered his broad chest and scalp, framing a face that was both youthful and wickedly handsome, with sharp cheekbones and a goatee that he stroked with long, clawed fingers. A tattered cloth hung low around his hips, barely covering him, and a long, whip-like tail swayed lazily behind. The air around him shimmered with heat, carrying a scent that was intoxicating—sweat, musk, and something primal that made their pulses race.

Colton stammered, “What… what the fuck are you?”

The creature bowed with a flourish, his tail flicking playfully. “Xaz’zaraul, at your service. But you boys can call me Raul. One of the thirteen sons of Asmoseros, lord of lust and carnal delight.” His voice was like velvet, each word dripping with promise. He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring as he savored the humid air of the room. “It’s been… oh, two thousand years since I last tasted the mortal world. You boys opened a lovely little rift for me to slip through.”

Samuel’s shirt, discarded on the couch earlier, caught Raul’s eye. He bent down, picking it up with a reverence that was almost obscene, and pressed it to his face. His long, forked tongue slithered out, lapping at the sweat-soaked fabric, his sharp teeth grazing it as he moaned softly. “Such… vitality,” he murmured, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure.

Samuel, pale and trembling, shouted, “You’re a fucking sex demon?!”

Raul’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “Precisely.” He dropped the shirt, his gaze sweeping over them both, lingering on Samuel’s hairy chest, slick with sweat from the heat. “And I’m here to indulge. But first, I need a human vessel. A permanent home in this world.” 

His eyes locked onto Samuel, predatory and hungry. “You’ll do nicely.”

Samuel bolted for the door, his heart pounding, but Raul vanished in a blur, reappearing in front of him with a chuckle. “Now, now, where’s the fun in running?” 

Samuel skidded to a halt, fists raised, his voice shaking but defiant. “I’ll kick your ass back to whatever fucked-up hell you crawled out of!”

Raul laughed, a rich, throaty sound. “I admire that fire. It’ll taste divine.” 

Before Samuel could swing, Raul’s hand shot out, clawed fingers tangling in the jock’s curly mullet. Samuel froze, his body seizing as if struck by lightning. His eyes rolled back, turning milky white, and his limbs trembled violently, muscles twitching under his sweat-slicked skin. 

Raul threw his head back, moaning, “More! More! Give me more!” His voice was ecstatic, feeding off whatever he was pulling from Samuel.

Seconds later, the shaking stopped. Samuel’s fists dropped, his shoulders slumped, and his head lolled forward. His eyes returned to their normal green, but they were empty, unfocused, like windows to a vacant house. His jaw hung slack, a thin line of drool trickling down his chin, pooling on his hairy chest.

Colton, frozen in horror, choked out, “What did you do to him?”

Raul smirked, his voice suddenly shifting seamlessly into Samuel’s, complete with the faint Texan drawl. “I vacated the premises, bro. Flushed out all that pesky personality, memories, everything that made him… Samuel. He’s an empty vessel now, ready for me.” He winked, his expression so eerily Samuel that Colton’s stomach churned. “Don’t worry, I’ve got all his essence. I’ll slide right into his life, and no one will ever know.”

Colton tried to run, but his body wouldn’t move, his limbs locked as if bound by invisible chains. He could only scream, his voice hoarse. “Let us go, you freak!”

Raul wagged a finger, his voice back to its sultry timbre. “Oh, Colton, where’s the fun in that? Stay. Watch the show.”

He turned to Samuel’s mindless body, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. Leaning close, he whispered into Samuel’s ear, words too soft and guttural to decipher, a low chant that seemed to vibrate through the air. 

Samuel’s body suddenly jerked to life, moving with a clumsy, puppet-like grace, as if strings were pulling him from within. His hands fumbled at his belt, fingers trembling as they unbuckled it, the leather sliding through the loops with a slow, deliberate rasp. His jeans fell to his ankles, followed by his boxers, the fabric catching briefly on his thick thighs before pooling on the floor. His cock sprang free, already half-hard, glistening with sweat in the humid air, the tip twitching as if responding to an unseen command.

Samuel’s face twisted into a vacant, perverse grin, his mouth slurring incoherent groans, “Uhh… nngh… f-feels…” His voice was thick, sluggish, barely forming words, each sound dripping with drool that spilled from his slack jaw, sliding down his chin and onto his hairy chest.

His hands moved mechanically, guided by Raul’s will, fingers grazing his nipples, pinching them until they hardened. His groans grew louder, more animalistic, “G-good… uhh… m-more…” His body shuddered with each touch, his muscles flexing involuntarily, sweat beading and rolling down his torso, catching in the coarse hair that spread across his pecs and trailed down to his navel.

Raul stepped closer, his presence radiating heat that made the air shimmer. He pressed his nose into the crook of Samuel’s neck, inhaling deeply, his long tongue flicking out to taste the salt of Samuel’s skin. 

“This flesh,” he murmured, his voice a low, reverent growl, “so ripe, so brimming with primal energy.”

His clawed fingers traced the contours of Samuel’s back, lingering on the curve of his spine, then sliding up to tangle in the damp curls of his mullet. He tugged gently, tilting Samuel’s head back, exposing the taut line of his throat. Samuel’s empty eyes stared at the ceiling, his mouth open, drool pooling and dripping in slow, viscous strands.

Raul’s hands roamed lower, skimming over Samuel’s hips, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin just above his groin. Samuel’s cock twitched, hardening fully, precum beading at the tip and sliding down the shaft, mixing with the sweat that coated his skin. Raul’s tail slithered forward, its tip curling around Samuel’s thigh, the smooth, warm surface brushing against his inner leg, teasingly close to his balls.

Samuel’s body reacted instinctively, his hips jerking forward, a slurred moan escaping his lips, “Nngh… s-so… gooood… uuuh…” His face contorted into a lewd grimace, his tongue lolling slightly, drool spilling onto his chest, glistening in the dim light.

The demon’s hands guided Samuel’s own, one wrapping around his cock, the other kneading his pecs, fingers digging into the muscle, tugging at the coarse hair. Raul moved with deliberate slowness, savoring every reaction, every twitch of Samuel’s mindless body. 

He leaned in, his lips brushing Samuel’s ear, whispering more incomprehensible words that made Samuel’s groans deepen, his voice a low, guttural, “F-fuuuck… nnngh… p-please…” The words were barely coherent, a string of slurred syllables driven by pure sensation, his body a puppet to Raul’s perverse control.

Across the room, a mirror reflected the scene, but Raul’s form was invisible. It was just Samuel, standing alone, his hand stroking his cock with slow, rhythmic motions, his face twisted into a perverse smirk that looked wrong, alien on his features. His hairy chest heaved with each breath, sweat and drool mixing into a slick sheen that caught the light.

Colton, paralyzed, could only watch, his pleas growing weaker, his voice cracking. “Stop it… please… that’s my best friend…”

Raul’s voice shifted back to Samuel’s, taunting, the Texan drawl dripping with mockery. “Yo, bro, check it out. Feels so fuckin’ good jerkin’ my fat cock. Look at it, man, fuckin’ throbbing.” 

He sped up the strokes, Samuel’s hips bucking in rhythm, the wet slapping of skin growing louder, more frantic. Samuel’s body was a perfect marionette, every movement dictated by Raul’s will, his thighs trembling, his cock leaking steadily now, precum dripping onto the floor in thick, glistening drops. 

His groans were a constant stream of slurred nonsense, “Uhh… f-feels… s-sooo… nngh… g-goood…” His eyes remained vacant, but his face twisted into expressions of raw, mindless pleasure, his mouth hanging open, drool pooling and spilling, his tongue flicking out instinctively.

Raul’s tail tightened around Samuel’s thigh, the tip brushing higher, teasing the sensitive skin just beneath his balls. Samuel’s body shuddered violently, his hips thrusting forward, his cock pulsing in his hand. Raul’s fingers slid down Samuel’s chest, tracing the lines of muscle, circling his navel, then dipping lower to cup his balls, rolling them gently in his palm. 

Samuel’s groans grew louder, more desperate, “M-more… uhh… f-fuuck… nngh… meee…” His voice was a broken record of pleasure, each sound punctuated by the wet slap of his hand on his cock, the slick sound filling the room like a perverse symphony.

Raul leaned back, his eyes gleaming with delight as he watched Samuel’s body writhe under his control. He pressed his chest against Samuel’s back, his red skin hot against the jock’s sweat-slicked flesh, guiding both of Samuel’s hands now—one stroking his cock, the other pinching and twisting his nipple. The demon’s long tongue slithered out, lapping at the sweat on Samuel’s neck, then trailing down to his shoulder, tasting the salt and musk with a low, satisfied moan. 

“This body is a fucking feast,” Raul purred, his voice vibrating against Samuel’s skin. “Every inch of it, pulsing with desire. I can’t wait to play with you forever.”

Samuel’s body responded with a shudder, his hips bucking harder, his cock throbbing in his hand. His face was a mask of mindless ecstasy, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth open in a constant stream of drool and slurred groans, “G-good… uughh… s-so… f-fuuuuck…”

His thighs trembled, his muscles flexing and relaxing in waves, his body entirely at the mercy of Raul’s touch. The demon’s tail slid higher, the tip brushing against Samuel’s cock, curling around the base and squeezing gently, eliciting another slurred moan, “Nngh… p-please… m-more…”

Raul’s grin widened, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Time for the finale, Samuel. Cum for me. Let me in.” 

He pressed himself fully against Samuel’s back, his red-skinned form aligning perfectly with the jock’s sweat-soaked body. Samuel’s face flushed red, his grin blissful and empty, his thighs spasming as his cock pulsed harder, the precum flowing freely now, coating his hand and dripping onto the floor. Raul’s hands tightened on Samuel’s, guiding the strokes with fierce intensity, the rhythm relentless, the wet slapping echoing through the room.

Then, with a devious chuckle, Raul began to merge with Samuel’s body. His red skin shimmered as he pressed himself into Samuel’s back, his form sinking into the jock’s flesh. The invasion was slow, deliberate, each inch of Raul’s body melding with Samuel’s, the sensation overwhelming. 

Samuel’s body convulsed violently, his eyes crossing, his hips thrusting wildly as if trying to escape the intrusion but unable to resist. His groans became a cacophony of slurred, incoherent sounds, “Nngh…yeees… f-fuuck… c-cum… uuhh… i-inside…” 

His cock throbbed, the tip swollen, and with a final, shuddering thrust, he erupted. Thick ropes of cum shot out, splattering his hairy chest, his face, and the mirror across the room. The orgasm was relentless, wave after wave, his body jerking with each pulse, cum mixing with the sweat and drool that coated him, his face twisted in blissful, mindless pleasure.

Raul’s tail was the last to disappear, slithering into Samuel’s back with a final, obscene wriggle. Samuel’s body arched, his head thrown back, a guttural scream tearing from his throat as the demon fully claimed him. His cock continued to spew, the cum pooling on the floor, streaking his thighs, and matting the hair on his chest. 

His body slumped briefly, jerking erratically, then straightened, standing tall as he took a deep, shuddering breath. His eyes rolled back, then snapped forward, no longer vacant but gleaming with a devious, unfamiliar light.

Colton, tears streaming down his face, whispered, “Sam?”

The figure turned, grinning. “Of course it’s me, bro. Your best friend since middle school.” 

The voice was wrong—Raul’s deep, sultry tone. He laughed, catching himself, and shifted back to Samuel’s voice, complete with the Texan drawl. “Whoops. Sorry, but Samuel’s gone now. His body and mind, however, are all mine to keep.” 

He stretched, flexing Samuel’s biceps, then buried his face in Samuel’s hairy armpit, inhaling deeply. “Fuck, this flesh is exquisite.” His tongue lapped at the sweat, a low moan escaping as he savored it.

He ran his hands over Samuel’s chest, smearing cum across the hair, then scooped some from the floor and licked it off his fingers, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. 

“This body’s a goddamn masterpiece,” he purred, flexing again, admiring the taut muscles. “Not as strong as my old form, but the sensations… worth it.”

Colton’s voice was barely a whisper. “W-What about me?”

The new Samuel sauntered over, grabbing Colton’s chin and licking the side of his face, tasting the salt of his tears and sweat. 

“Don’t worry, bro,” he said, his voice dripping with Samuel’s cadence. “My younger demon brother’s dying to try on some human flesh. You’ll make a fine vessel.” He grinned, the expression alien on Samuel’s face, a perverse mask hiding the demon within. “We’re gonna have so much fun with this world.”

Colton’s tears fell faster, licked away by the demon’s tongue. The room reeked of sweat, cum, and something darker, the air heavy with the consequences of their reckless theft. The tome lay forgotten on the table, its pages fluttering as if stirred by an unseen wind, a silent witness to the demonic desires now unleashed into the world.

The End & Beginning of the Lust Demon's Era...

[lilspudstud]

Mirror Mirror

Inspired by this story from @kylecrusoe-captions

Richard Clarke had spent his whole life living a conventional life. Now in his late 50s, Richard had spent his life the way he was expected. He found a passion, worked hard at it, pursuing a degree and then eventually getting a job as a reporter on TV. Back in the day, it was so glamorous like you would expect, but as time went on all things lose their luster. Budget cuts led to less pampering and eventually newer more attractive talent comes along to steal the spotlight. Corporate came creeping up everyday trying to find a way to sunset Richard from the career he built brick by brick.

It was agonizing doing the work to stay visually appealing as he got older. Richard had to admit he let him go in some areas as complacency set in over the years. He was happy with what he had accomplished and felt like he had so much more gas left in his tank, despite what his corporate overlords were telling him.

Richard told himself today’s the day to start reinvesting in himself. He was going to make sure he put in his best foot forward to preserve the professional life he’s always known. He went out for a coffee in between shows to start planning his return to conventional attractiveness. While he waited for his coffee at a low-key cafe in the busy part of downtown, Richard got lost enviously gazing at the young men walking by. Making a mental list of the attributes he found attractive and aspirational. He wanted to attain what they had, even though it was unrealistic at his advancing age.

He glared too long at a guy grabbing the next coffee prepared at the counter. He may have been wearing a baggy hoodie but his shorts showed how much of a beast he was in the gym.

Syd was in a different cafe than he usually goes to. In true brooding boy fashion he liked the slightly run down edgy look this cafe had and he went inside. Syd may look like a typical gym bro that exits pictures with so much contrast you can barely make out the details, but he was….slightly more than that. He also dreamed of being a fitness influencer that made a life out of simply going to the gym so that way he could play games with his friends. He wanted an easier life but easier is u realistic. Plus he was paralyzingly introverted. A seemingly sad waste for someone so conventionally attractive and genetically gifted when it comes to musculature.

Richard was nearly salivating looking at Syd’s meaty thighs that he ran into him when going to collect his coffee. The TV news anchor quickly went into on air personality and composed himself to present a thoughtful and sincere apology. Syd played it off like no big deal and began making his way towards what he believed to be the cafes restroom to clean off. He went inside a restroom after assuring Richard it was no big deal and closed the door behind him. But Richard didn’t believe him and continued to feel guilty. He stayed but grew significantly concerned when Syd never came out. Richard knocked on the door and when no one answered he opened the door and walked into the dark room as the door closed behind him. He blindly searched for a light switch or string to pull when he finally found a string in front of him and pulled it as a light blared on nearly blinding him.

As Richard's eye adjusted to the bright light he tried to focus his sight on an odd mirror on a nearby wall. He thought he saw Syd standing there, causing him to jump back startled. But when he looked away, he realized he was alone in the room.

He stepped closer to the obscured mirror....there was Syd, clear as day, but Richard couldn't make out where he was. He focused his sight at the mirror and realized what was happening as the buff young man's eyes met his. "Wha?" Richard raised an arm in anticipation of his understanding of the outlandish predicament he now found himself in. The man in the mirror did the same, showing his hairy pits.

Richard worked in a world of fact and rational explanations....he had none in his head for how this was possible. He was uncharacteristically giddy as he looked at the unfamiliar man staring back ahead of him. He was already growing excited and as other things swelled he couldn't control his journalistic curiosity and yanked off the oversized sweater hiding the goods. Turning his cap the other way around like a man of his advanced age would do in their hey-day.

Richard looked at himself and his new reflection eye to eye and confirmed to himself through an inner dialogue, he had to get out of here stat. He gathered his belongings or rather Syd’s and headed out expeditiously. He didn’t know where he was going after he left the cafe doors and sifted through the baggy hoodie to find a trifold wallet. He entered the address on the ID haphazardly into his phones GPS and booked it. His new beefed up physique, moved with an ease he hadn’t been able to in years. He confidently stepped and glanced down at his striated legs as a smirk graced his handsome face.

He haphazardly fumbled looking for keys and clumsily flopped his way into an unassuming yet large abode. A mirror across the entry way inside a nearby bedroom immediately caught Richard’s eye as he dropped his belongings on the ground and confidently stripped himself of his cloth confines. 

“Jesus. I didn’t even know getting this shredded was humanely possible?” he gasped to himself in awe. 2 vein’s indecently aligned with the v-taper of his new body’s muscles down to another thing intriguing Richard. He tugged at the waistband to get a peak at his new manhood and wondered if it looks like that soft what’s it going to look like hard. That thought started the quick spiral into a feral mindset.

Richard nearly ripped his shorts as he pulled them off in his horned up stupor. Then came off the orange undergarments and he rushed to a nearby restroom. Another mirror greeted Richard and there he stood in awe gazing at his new corporeal home. He examined the black and crimson tattoos and stretch marks showing Syd’s skin pushed to the limit by his bulging muscles.

Richard poked and prodded at the muscles he’d alternate from relaxing to flexing. One poke and prod near his nipple accidentally lit the final match as Richard gasped feeling the blood rush down to his growing tool. He promptly used his vascular hand to grab hold of the thickening stick and allowed himself to fall into muscle memory. He may not know who Syd was or what he liked but his body remembered enough for him. He quickly turned on the scalding shower and as the room filled with steam he took a giant sniff of the musk emitting from his hairy pits. Oh yeah that’s the smell of man.

He walked into the hot stream of water and already knew to brace against one wall with his left arm. His right arm started going to work pumping up and down as he began twisting and expertly working his new shaft. As if he was doing an intense workout, primal grunts and moans escaped his new youthfully plumped lips.

Richard stepped backward and decided to lie down on the floor of the tub and used both hands to begin to plow them to feel more pressure sending him over the edge. As he huffed and puffed pulse after pulse of hot water and his seed dropped over her alabaster torso. He couldn’t help but scoop up the mixture and drink it like he had spend days in the desert.

He stepped out of the exploratory shower and took cocky photos. Richard realizing he didn’t know what to do now, as he got dressed. As he pondered how to figure out how to move forward with Syd’s life, he started feeling his pants stir once again. He decided to visit the dating apps Syd had on his phone and began to tink with preferences. Adding men and women instead of just one and adding the revealing post-shower pics.

Sure enough, the matches and messages started flooding in from the new found dating pool. Being fruity in his heyday would have been a no, but with this body in this century, Richard wanted to see what life had to offer. Something stirred him up once again when he saw a headless torso message him asking if he was down to be dominated.

Richard had always been the alpha in a typical cisgender relationship but this might be his chance to give into submission. He grabbed anything he could to look casual and set up the least candid looking photo of all time. The snap capturing all his body had to offer in a modest way.

“Wanna come over daddy?” Richard replied to the headless torso before adding the picture to the message. He had his fun with Syd’s physique but now he wanted to try something Syd had never done himself. Arching his lower back to emphasize his new assets.

Oh yeah he was gonna have fun, slowing once again guiding his new meaty hands down the elastic waistband to explore. As two finger managed to find their way to his tight hole, he pushed their way in slowly and his phone vibrated.

“Send the addy.”

Richard moaned in anticipation and the pressure he felt sliding the fingers inside for the first time.

[lilspudstud]

The Academic Successor

Professor Harold Whitaker had long surpassed the boundaries of academia, delving into the arcane, forbidden arts that lay hidden in the forgotten tomes of the university’s basement. It was in one such text, a brittle manuscript bound in skin, that he discovered the secrets of astral projection and possession. In his failing years, his once-sharp mind now dulled by age, Harold had grown resentful of his waning physical strength and the relentless march of time that no man could outrun. But knowledge, he realized, offered a loophole.

Andrew was the professor’s favourite student, young, strong, and full of potential. A quiet, disciplined athlete, he excelled in both his studies and in his physical pursuits, the perfect vessel for Harold’s ambitions. The old professor’s plan had taken years to refine, every detail, every nuance of the incantation memorized and practiced in the stillness of his secluded study.

One night, when the moon hung heavy and full in the sky, Harold began the ritual. His ancient, brittle body collapsed on the dusty floor as his spirit tore free from its cage of flesh. The sensation was exhilarating—his soul no longer confined, free to roam the ether. He soared over the city, the dormitories, the sleeping students, until he found Andrew.

The boy slept soundly, oblivious to the force that hovered above him, a darkness that seeped through the walls of his consciousness. Harold waited, savoring the moment before he surged forward, flooding Andrew’s mind, his essence intertwining with the young man’s. There was a brief struggle, Andrew’s subconscious thrashing like a trapped animal, but Harold was relentless, pressing, squeezing, until finally, the resistance ebbed away.

When Andrew opened his eyes, it was Harold who looked out through them. He felt the strength in Andrew’s limbs, the taut muscles beneath smooth skin, the youth and vitality that had been lost to him for decades. He reveled in it, stretching, flexing his fingers, relishing the sensation of power coursing through this new body.

There was a moment of heady triumph, and then Harold—now Andrew—moved to the mirror. He took in the reflection: the boyish, chiseled features, the strong jawline, the eyes still glazed with the residue of sleep, but now with a sharper glint of intellect that was purely Harold’s. The sight filled him with a dark satisfaction.

He smirked at his reflection, flexing his new muscles. The reflection in the mirror was pure, raw potential—his to mold, his to control. The plan had worked. This body was his now, and with it, the promise of a second life, stronger and more virile than the last.

In a moment of vanity, Harold—Andrew—grabbed his phone, feeling the slick, cool glass in his hand, so unlike the heavy tomes and crumbling parchment he had been accustomed to. It was almost too easy, taking this body, this life, and making it his own. He raised the phone, aiming it at the mirror, at the image of youth and masculinity that now belonged to him. With a smirk, he captured the moment—a memento of his triumph over death, over time, over the constraints of his feeble, aging body.

He marveled at the picture on the screen. Andrew’s eyes—now his eyes—glinted with a knowing arrogance, a touch of mockery. The way he stood, arms behind his head, a casual display of power, was all Harold. He admired the sleek blue briefs, the way they hugged the boy’s—his—thighs, the powerful line of his legs, the way they showed off the musculature he had long envied.

Satisfied, he dropped the phone on the bed and stepped back to admire himself in the mirror once more. This was his body now. He ran a hand down his chest, over the tattoo—Andrew’s tattoo—and smiled, knowing the boy was screaming somewhere deep inside, unable to take back what had been so easily taken from him. Harold savored that thought, the helplessness of it all, as he flexed once more, feeling the power of his new flesh.

His gaze drifted down to the bulge in the blue briefs, the outline unmistakable, thick and substantial. A low, almost amused chuckle rumbled in his chest as he traced the outline with his fingers, the sensation both familiar and entirely new.

“Well, well, Andrew,” he murmured, the words dripping with both mockery and admiration. “You’ve been hiding quite the beast, haven’t you?”

He let his fingers linger, tracing the thick curve, feeling the warmth beneath the fabric. The way it responded to his touch was intoxicating, a powerful reminder of the youth, the virility he had reclaimed. Harold’s grin widened, more wicked now, as he watched his reflection, reveling in the mixture of Andrew’s athletic build and his own dark, twisted intellect.

“How did you manage to keep this under wraps?” he teased, his voice a low purr, dripping with false surprise. “I had no idea you were packing such a weapon.”

He gave a soft squeeze, feeling the heft, the undeniable presence. It was exhilarating, this new power, this potent masculinity that was his to command. Harold reveled in the irony, how this shy, disciplined boy had hidden something so primal, so raw, beneath that reserved exterior.

“You’ve been keeping secrets under those books and papers, Andrew,” he whispered to his reflection, his fingers tracing the shape again, more deliberately this time. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure it gets the attention it deserves.”

Harold’s eyes remained fixed on the reflection, the intensity of his gaze unyielding. The sight of Andrew’s body under his control, every muscle responding to his touch, sent a shiver of dark satisfaction down his spine. He watched the reflection with an almost obsessive focus, the way the chest rose and fell with each breath, how the abs tightened under the press of his hand.

He increased the pressure, his strokes becoming more deliberate, more intense. The fabric of the briefs stretched, outlining every inch of the hardness beneath. The sensation was overwhelming, a heady mix of power and pleasure that surged through him like a current, making his breath hitch.

His other hand roamed upwards, gliding over the sculpted contours of his chest, feeling the solid weight of muscle, the way the pectorals tensed under his fingertips. He traced the line of his abs, each ridge defined, sharp under the skin, the core of an athlete. It was intoxicating, the sheer physicality of it, the realization that this strength, this vitality, was all his now.

His hand slid lower, tracing the tight ridges of the abs, feeling the power coiled in the core, the promise of force and control. The intensity of his strokes increased, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through his new body. His eyes never wavered from the mirror, locked on the sight of his—Andrew’s—body responding to his every whim.

He could see the veins standing out on the forearm, the muscles flexing in response to the movement, the way the chest heaved as the pleasure built. It was all so perfectly aligned, the physical power of youth combined with the ruthless intellect of a man who had mastered the forbidden.

“Look at you,” Harold whispered to the reflection, his voice thick with both admiration and lust. “You were great as a student. But now… now you’re perfect... I’m perfect.”

The hand on his chest traced the sharp lines of his collarbone before sliding back down to meet the other, both hands now working in unison, increasing the intensity, feeding the growing heat that spread through his new body. His breath came faster, more ragged, the anticipation building with each stroke, each touch.

Goddamn, Andrew,” he whispered, his tone dark with both awe and twisted humor. “You’ve been sitting on this and pretending to be the quiet, unassuming student all this time?”

He squeezed again, feeling it throb in response, the fabric straining. There was a surge of triumph in Harold’s chest, a sick pleasure in knowing this was his now—his to explore, his to use. His eyes narrowed as they flicked back to the mirror, catching the incongruity of the reflection.

The thick, strong frame, the athletic build, the powerful presence, all undermined by one glaring detail: Harold’s old glasses perched on Andrew’s nose. It was a clash of identities, the young man’s face paired with the unmistakable mark of an aging scholar.

He snorted, unable to hold back the laugh that bubbled up. “Look at you, Andrew,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he continued to stroke. “A beast between the legs, and you still manage to look like a damn dork with these things on.”

With a deft movement, he pulled the glasses off, tossing them carelessly onto the bed. Without them, the reflection sharpened, Andrew’s features fully realized, leaving only this powerful, youthful body in its wake.

“Much better,” Harold murmured, admiring the image now, his hand still working through the fabric, slow and purposeful. “Now you look like what you really are, Andrew—a wolf in sheep’s clothing. And I’m going to enjoy every second of being inside this skin.”

Harold’s eyes blazed with possession, a dark hunger as he watched the reflection, every muscle in the young body straining, responding to the relentless pace he set. He could feel the power, the potential, the sheer force of what he had claimed, and it thrilled him to his core.

This was what he had worked for, what he had sacrificed for—this body, this life, this control. And as he pushed himself closer to the edge, he knew one thing with absolute certainty: he had no intention of ever letting it go.