possessionsyeahman

[possessionsyeahman]

Biker Upgraded To Cyborg

For as long as anyone could remember, Jake and Eddie had not only been best mates, but they’d been crazy about motorbikes. Both their dads were bikers so it was no surprise that as kids they were introduced to bikes in real life and got to watch MotoGP, WSB and BSB either in real life or on TV with their enthusiast dads.

They were riding off-road in their early teens. They got their first mopeds at 16, upgrading to 125cc bikes a few months after their respective seventeenth birthdays. Now in their early 20s they have held full licences for nearly three years. Jake rides a black Honda CBR600RR, bought second hand through the weekly motorcycling title, MCN. Eddie rides a used Red Yamaha R6 that he bought a couple of months earlier from the main dealer in the city where they live. Springtime and the light evenings meant they would be out as much as possible riding 'the highways and byways', and this day was no exception, but it would be a day that changed their lives forever. 

Jake and Eddie had spent most of Sunday riding and were at the edge of the city when Jake’s bike had started spewing smoke out of the engine before rolling to a stop alongside a large industrial estate. Jake jumped off his bike, but with no tools to hand he had no option but to seek help. He pushed his bike into the entrance to one of the large modern warehouses that populated the industrial estate. Jake kicked the side stand into place and sighed heavily. Eddie pulled in alongside Jake, kicked down the stand on his before turning off the ignition.

Although they were back in the city, they were still about ten miles from home. Jake reached into his leathers for his phone only then realising that they were in an area without mobile phone coverage. Jake and Eddie looked around for a payphone to call the breakdown service - but in this era of mobile technology, BT had removed most of the phone boxes - so there wasn't one within sight. Realising they needed to get help they looked around for signs of life. In front of them was a sprawling grey structure resembling more of a fortress than a warehouse. Its metallic surfaces gleamed under the late afternoon sun, making it look otherworldly. Figuring it might be their best chance at getting help—or at least finding a phone—they started walking towards the massive building.

The front gate was oddly open, inviting yet silent. Jake and Eddie didn't think it weird for a security guard building to be unoccupied with the gates open. More concerned about getting help they walked towards the main building entrance. Jake pressed on the intercom button and waited for a response. After a minute he pushed the button again, but this time there was a buzz. Jake looked at Eddie and shrugged his shoulders, pushing on the door, it opened. They walked inside.

Expecting to see a reception area the two friends were surprised to enter the building at what appeared to be the beginning of a long dimly lit corridor. Jake and Eddie looked at one another, Jake spoke first, “Why don’t you wait here, while I see if I can find anyone to speak to”.

Eddie nodded.

Both looked at one another, for a moment unsure of what to do. Then Jake smiled, turned and started walking along the seemingly endless corridor, his boots echoing on the cold, concrete floor. The air was chillingly sterile, as he walked he would pass the occasional door and window revealing glimpses of high-tech interiors.

"Hello?" he called out, his voice disappearing into the ether without an answer. The lack of response was unnerving, but as he walked on he could hear noise coming from much further along the corridor. Jake kept walking, driven by his need to get to a phone and call the breakdown service to sort out his bike.

Eventually, the corridor turned to the right, after another dozen or so yards it opened up into a colossal space. What Jake witnessed was like a scene reminiscent of a sci-fi horror film.

The room was stark yet brightly lit. On one side it was filled with row upon row of raised surgical beds. Yet these weren't like the ones you’d see in a hospital; they were repurposed contraptions where human flesh was being melded with alien, synthetic and electronic components. Shocked by what he was witnessing, he turned his head, but there was no escape from the nightmare he found himself in.

The other side of the room was populated with dozens of cylindrical tubes. Jake’s eyes widened as he took in the sight before him—humans, all young males, lined up and undergoing transformations into, well all he could think of was 'something else'. Whichever way he turned he could see men his age were being outfitted with mechanical limbs, others had technology intricately woven onto weird shiny black body suits, still others were in varying stages of being processed into full cyborgs.

The horror gripped him; his instinct was to flee back to Eddie and both to get the hell out of there. But before he could move, cold metal hands grasped his shoulders with an iron grip. His heart sank as he was spun around to face what had caught him—a cyborg, its body a haunting hybrid of human and machine, expressionless yet totally menacing.

“Welcome," its voice an unsettling blend of tones, both mechanical whilst still eerily human. "Your arrival is opportune. Your integration process will commence shortly."

Panic surged through Jake as he struggled, but the cyborg's grip was unyielding. Despite putting up strong resistance, he was dragged towards one of the ominous stations. Glancing around, he noticed the other captives were not fighting; their eyes showed a haunting resignation, some flickering with the vague light of fear.

As he was forced onto what appeared to be a surgical table, Jake looked around frantically, hoping for any chance of escape. His heart raced as mechanical arms equipped with various tools whirred to life around him. 

In a split second metallic straps shot out from the surgical table and tightened around his limbs and across his torso, a sense of utter helplessness began to wash over him. His heart pounded hard against his chest. He desperately sought that extra bit of human strength that would allow him to escape. He struggled and struggled against the restraints, but the metal straps simply wouldn’t budge.

Stage one of his transformation was about to begin. From above a helmet descended slowly from the ceiling, its approach marked by an audible, mechanical whirring. Jake squinted upwards, his breath coming in sharp gasps. He was used to his bike helmet, but this was unworldly.

Two drones approached the surgical table Jake was strapped to and grabbed the helmet, which had opened up. One lifted his head slightly and the other slid the back of the helmet under the back of his head. As the helmet closed over his head, a claustrophobic fear gripped him. The world outside the helmet faded, leaving him in a confined sphere of existence. Almost immediately, an overwhelming barrage of white noise bombarded his ears, punctuated by low, droning hums that seemed to resonate through his bones.

Then, the visuals began on the inside of the visor. Spirals of colour appeared in front of his eyes, intertwining and unraveling in hypnotic patterns. Reds, blues, yellows and greens blended into a kaleidoscope that threatened to absorb his mind. Jake tried to close his eyes, but the images were inescapable, imprinted on the insides of his eyelids, searing themselves into his brain and more nefariously his subconsciousness. Almost as if recognising Jake was finally submitting the noise and visuals seemed to become amplified.

As the sensory overload continued, Jake felt a strange detachment creeping through him—a numbness that suggested the audio and visuals were beginning to take effect. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice screamed in terror and defiance, urging him to resist, urging him to hold on to his identity.

With a surge of willpower, Jake focused on that voice, blocking out the chaos threatening to engulf him. He concentrated on memories of standing in the stands watching the best riders in the world, the challenging rides with Eddie, the feel of his motorcycle, the wind against his leathers. He thought about his best mate Eddie and the fun they’d had. He thought about his family and his other friends. These human experiences, these emotional connections to his past life, became a lifeline to cling onto.

As Jake fought against the sensory bombardment, the helmet detected his resistance, It recalibrated its internal mechanisms in response to his defiance. Suddenly, the white noise in his ears shifted, morphing into a series of low, almost inaudible subliminal messages. Each word—"relax", "comply", "obey", "drone", "conform", "follow", "respect" could be heard—the words flashed across his vision, barely there long enough for conscious recognition, but deeply penetrating his subconscious.

The colours that swirled before his eyes intensified, becoming more vibrant and pulsating rhythmically, as if to synchronise with his own heartbeat. It was a sensory assault designed to break down the walls of the individual, to reshape his mind into something more compliant and obedient. Jake’s initial surge of resistance began to wane as mental exhaustion set in, the messages infiltrated deeper into his psyche, their insistence relentless and overpowering.

His eyes, once sharp with determination and fear, started to lose focus, the vibrant spirals turning into a soothing blur. The resistance in his muscles softened as his body began to accept the inevitability of his situation. His thoughts, those last bastions of his free will, were slowly suffocated under the warm, smothering blanket of compliance and security that the helmet now forced upon him.

With an audible click and a beep, the helmet sealed its final adjustment, signalling the completion of its preparatory phase. At this cue, the two drones, their movements precise and devoid of any hesitation, glided smoothly towards the table where Jake lay subdued. Their appendages were equipped with various tools and devices necessary for the transformation process.

The drones worked efficiently, attaching additional apparatus to Jake’s limbs and interfacing seamlessly with the helmet. As they initiated the physical transformation, Jake’s body was being prepared to receive bio-mechanical enhancements that would connect him irrevocably to The Hive which he learned was housed within the humongous building.

Somewhere in the dwindling recesses of his mind, the essence of who Jake once was—a biker with a love for the open road—flickered weakly. This essence watched as his limbs and muscle fibres were methodically integrated with synthetics and his nervous system was integrated with advanced circuitry. The process was both horrifying and fascinating to watch.

As the transformation progressed, Jake’s human senses were gradually overridden by electronic inputs. His vision, once clouded by the colourful spirals, now interfaced directly with data streams providing real-time analytics about his environment. His hearing was no longer filled with subliminal messages but was tuned to various frequencies beyond the range of human hearing.

By the time the transformation was complete, Jake, as he had been, no longer existed. In his place stood a new Jake, a cyborg, what was exclusively biological had been augmented with technology. The drones, recognising another successful integration, had begun to step back.

The new Jake climbed down from the surgical table to be guided by the two drones. He moved with a robotic precision that was both chilling and enthralling to witness. He was led to what looked like a modified dentist's chair, but larger and imposing. The chair had been upgraded and was fitted with numerous ports and circuitry interfaces. Without hesitation, he sat down, his actions appearing devoid of the personality that had once defined him.

He leaned back so that his head touched the headrest. The chair immediately sprang to life, adjusting to accommodate his new form. A second later the old Jake would have felt a light sensation on both sides of his head as what can only be described of as two metallic ear pieces, out of which came sets of wires slid into his ears and began to work. 

Somewhere, an echo of the old Jake could sense what was happening, words echoed around the room and in his head. Screens nearby flashed “accessing biological memories…beginning total erasure”. 

“NNNOOOOOOOO”, But even as the word was said, Jake’s relatively short lifetime of memories were disappearing, flashing before his eyes for a split second before evaporating into nothing - gone forever. 

Monitors next to the chair flashed “Memory Wipe successful,” again, the words echoed around the room. 

Any human observer in the room looking at new Jake’s face would describe it as passive, distant, dull, emotionless. Empty. His eyes were missing their human sparkle. 

Then the drone formerly known as Jake again felt another funny feeling in his ears, as if a static charge was coming out of the wire. Suddenly the screen flashed “Beginning Program Upload”… While that happened, nearby monitors flashed, “Emotional Centres being accessed”. 

“Installing Human Emotion Suppression Software”

“… 10%… 20%… 30%… 40%… 50%… 60%… 70%… 80%… 90%…  ”

“Human Emotions Suppression Software installed. Fully functional.”

The monitors flickered for a moment and then more text appeared, “Beginning Cyborg Program Upload”. The upload began. The Hive, a vast network of interconnected AI and data banks, started feeding a stream after stream of programming directly into Jake's brain. These were not merely instructions; they were directives that informed behaviour, dictated functions, and defined purpose.

For hours, data was input into him, a relentless torrent of information reshaping and repurposing him; any lingering traces of his previous humanity now completely overwritten. His eyes, once vibrant with youthful emotion, now displayed a steady, unblinking focus as the programming was embedded, ensuring his obedience and efficiency.

At the appropriate time the interface with the new Jake confirmed the programming had been successful. “Operating at 100%,” it said in an emotionless, synthetic voice. “Organic memories have been wiped. Emotional Suppression Software is fully functional. The new data and objectives have been successfully uploaded with zero errors”.

The chair returned to an upright position, and the new Jake stood once more. His movements were smooth, almost graceful, a stark contrast to the somewhat ‘cavalier’ sports biker he once was. He was a product of advanced technology, a being created to serve a purpose far beyond his previous human desires.

Approaching him now were two more drones, carrying items that symbolised his final transformation. They presented him with a set of Dainese bike leathers, not ordinary leathers but augmented to interface seamlessly with his cybernetic body. The leathers were equipped with sensors and conductive circuitry that could communicate directly with his system, enhancing his interaction with the Hive.

Then they presented him with a pair of white boots, larger to accommodate the modifications of his feet, designed not only for protection but also to enhance his connection to the ground and his bike. Gloves that reached up to his arms were fitted next, embedded with micro-circuitry to increase his grip and control.

Finally, they brought over a new crash helmet unlike any other. This helmet was his direct link to the Hive mind. It was designed to keep him constantly connected to the Hive's data stream.

As the helmet settled over his head, a subtle hum filled the air, signalling the activation of all its systems. The new Jake stood there, a figure of both awe and dread, transformed entirely from the young man who had once freely roamed the roads on his motorcycle.

Now equipped, Jake was led to a new motorcycle, one that matched his new form. To the casual observer it looked like a traditional bike that had been upgraded; integrated with technology that responded fluidly to his enhanced senses and capabilities. As he mounted the bike, the connection between man and machine was seamless, a perfect union crafted by the Hive’s sophisticated engineering.

The new Jake rode the highway on his futuristic bike, a sleek and menacing marvel of technology that effortlessly caught the eye of any enthusiast. Its design was unlike anything on the roads—sharp angles, glowing panels, and a subtle hum that hinted at its advanced capabilities. It was designed not just for speed and efficiency, but as a lure to attract exactly the kind of individuals the Hive sought to convert.

As he travelled along a popular bikers’ route known for its scenic views and biker cafes, he spotted his next targets. Two young bikers, probably in their twenties, had pulled over in a lay-by, their bikes parked as they enjoyed a brief pause in their riding, catching up on conversation and checking their mobile phones. The new Jake slowed down, looking at the two bikers oblivious to Jake’s presence, his connection to the Hive confirmed they would be perfect candidates for upgrade.

Pulling over smoothly, Jake dismounted his bike. His helmet's visor slid up as he approached them, revealing a face that was human enough to be relatable but enhanced subtly with metallic hints that suggested something more beneath the surface. 

"Hey," Jake called out, his voice modulated to be friendly and inviting. “Hey there. Not seen you riding ‘round here before.”

The two young bikers, intrigued by the stranger and his extraordinary bike, smiled and walked over. “What is that you’re riding? It looks like it’s straight out of a sci-fi movie. What is that?" one of them asked, his curiosity piqued.

The new Jake chuckled, a sound perfectly calibrated to put others at ease. He needed to win their trust so began to make conversation with them. "It’s a custom build from a place not too far from here. They’re experimenting with some next-gen and EV tech. You guys interested in seeing where something like this comes from?"

The offer was tempting. The allure of advanced technology and the chance to see more bikes like Jake’s was too good to pass up for any avid biker. The young men exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them before they nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, definitely,” the other replied. “We’ll follow you!"

Jake smiled and nodded, turning back to his bike. As they put their helmets on and started their engines, a part of Jake’s programming confirmed the successful engagement of two targets. He led the way, riding at a pace that was thrilling yet careful to keep his new followers comfortably in tow.

The journey took them away from the familiar routes into less traveled roads, the scenery shifting subtly as they moved closer to facility where he had been transformed. The two bikers were unaware of the true nature of their destination, caught up in the thrill of the ride and the excitement of seeing advanced motorcycle tech.

After some time, they arrived at the vast building that looked more like a huge distribution centre than a motorcycle manufacturing factory. The gates opened automatically as Jake approached, a silent signal of his authority and belonging.

Jake signalled for the other two bikers to do follow him down a roadway between two buildings. Jake brought his bike to a stop, opened his visor and announced, ”we are here.” The other two brought their bikes to a stop, dismounted and removed their helmets.

Jake walked forwards into the huge building just ahead of them; the two other bikers looked at one another, shrugged their shoulders and followed. They would ingress through a different route compared to the one Eddie and Jake entered.

The space inside they walked into was clean and modern, filled with prototypes and machines that made the two young bikers' eyes widen in awe.

"This is incredible!" one of the exclaimed, walking closer to inspect a particularly sleek model that caught his eye. "How do you get in on this?"

Jake's response was calculated, his tone still friendly but now carrying an undercurrent of persuasion. "Well, there's actually a selection process. Part of why I brought you here. If you're interested, there’s a quick tour and some tests to see if you're compatible with the tech."

Excited and completely unaware of the implications, the two young men agreed eagerly, following Jake deeper into the facility. As they walked, the doors behind them closed silently, the outside world receding as they moved further into the realm of the Hive.

Little did they know, their fascination with bikes and the temptation of combining their love of biking and dreams of futuristic bikes had led them into a trap. This walk would be their last as mere humans, as they stepped unknowingly into the next phase of their lives dictated by The Hive's needs.

=========

Oh, are you wondering what happened to Eddie? As you might have expected The Hive detected his presence and determined a new purpose for him, but that’s another story.

[possessionsyeahman]

Bros Swap Bikes & Gear

“Man, he still hasn’t replied. Hope he checks his phone soon…” Josh thought. The two brothers loved travelling on two wheels, but Josh was happy to leave the effort to the internal combustion engine. His younger brother, Carl, however, preferred his road bike. The dinner table always hosted a heated debate over which was the best, which strained their parents’ patience to the point that their mother decided to switch them so that they would be forced to spend some time in the other brother’s shoes, or boots as the case may be.

Josh took out his thinner, smaller frame on his brother’s road bike and tested it out. He was surprised at his newfound endurance, the calming feeling of quiet open roads with the wind providing the only sounds. It was relaxed and he enjoyed it to a point, but missed the thrill of real speed. 

He got home but his brother and his body were nowhere to be seen. He wrote to him, but no response came for hours as day began to turn to night.

“Sorry bro, lost track of time. Kinda got lost in the experience and just kept on riding, so I’m a few hundred miles away. Oops. But don’t worry, I’m good. Think I will crash here tonight since it’s already getting dark. Some guy has offered to let me stay at his place tonight. Is it just me, or does all this leather and sweat make you horny too? I used to think you stank when you came home, but now I can’t help but get hard when I smell myself. Must be this body. Didn’t realize you were such a kinky bastard, bro. Well, I guess I have picked up your fetishes right now. I should be disgusted, but I’m just too horny. Will go and peel off these sweat-soaked things at a minute. I think my host for the evening can’t wait to get a wiff. Seeya tomorrow!”

[possessionsyeahman]

Nice flex and this body is killer, it was so easy to take him over. Every inch of this shirtless twunk frame is tight and toned, perfectly crafted to turn heads and make hearts race. The sensation of lithe muscles moving smoothly beneath flawless skin is an incredible rush, and I can't help but admire my new body, the youthful energy and irresistible charm radiating from this body. Every touch feels electric, every brush of fabric sending shivers down my spine. My pulse quickens at the thought of new encounters, feeling the heat of lustful gazes on me. The way people look at me now, the raw desire in their eyes, is intoxicating. This body isn't just a disguise; it's a ticket to a world of pure pleasure and excitement. I can't wait to feel every inch of this tight skin under wandering hands, to let every sensation consume me, and to embrace every thrill that comes my way.

[possessionsyeahman]

Yeah, totally feel it. Tonight is roommate-time...

[possessionsyeahman]

TROPICS FUN

This is Marius, a typical German from a wealthy family who got god like genes from his parents. Marius was your fun, caring guy; he would never leave anyone out. One of the kindest Germans I've met on this island. He was the one I wanted, it was about time I get a new body and straight off this island.

Luckily, Marius accepted my photography contract, and we went straight to it, with just the two of us on a beach. I got him to have loose clothes on . He was an absolute gorgeous guy, I felt bad as he was so kind but that is my body very soon!

The photoshoot was going well and he wasn't expecting my camera to slowly zap his soul out, each photo slowly detached his soul and suddenly he was pulled out and stuck in the camera. I used the camera on myself as it pulled my soul out but the screen was facing Marius and I was sent into his body whole my body went limp.

FINALLY I AM NOW YOUNG AND FELT LIKE ! GOD!

ALL THESE NEW MEMORIES!

THIS BODY YOUTH AND STRENGTH.

I AM MARIUS!

I laughed in excitement as I was checking myself out, I saw my former body on the floor and used the camera to to expel Marius soul form into my former body but I gave him a muscle relaxer that will last for a few hours.

By the time he could move, I was long gone on a boat to a different island. He would never find me.

I can't wait now to head back home to Germany and continue my amazing life!

I had enough of the warm weather for a few years!

[possessionsyeahman]

Medical Ego

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes.

If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Medical Ego

My boyfriend is in the medical field, just a medical student who aspired to be a doctor, and not surprisingly, the environment was terrible: long shifts, stuck-up doctors and patients galore. I always saw him come in tired, lie in bed and sleep for hours; but everything had gotten worse in the last few months, all because of him.

A guy a year ahead of him, but who was making his life miserable. He had an ego more inflated than his muscles, a smug smile and such a selfish attitude that he was loading more and more work on my partner while that jerk was taking all the credit for his work without him being able to do anything. And me, less, I could only watch him fall asleep, try to do something and only hear a "Sorry, honey, I'm tired".

I didn't know what else to do, I wanted to do something for him, to help him. I couldn't stand to see the guy I loved wasting himself out physically and emotionally day after day, but what could I do? Complain? Tell the guy not to be a jerk? No, absolutely nothing. I sat in the chair in our room with a sigh, getting ready to write to him and ask him how everything was going, again with that craving to want to do something for him, however, and whatever.

I started to feel sick, with nausea like I had never experienced before, an intense headache, I thought it was almost a migraine because I swear I started to see little lights until everything started to fade to black. I heard whispers, soft and slow, but slowly beginning to rise to the surface accompanied by a light that diffused my gaze. 

- Doctor?... Doctor? 

- Mmm?...

I mumbled in confusion. Was I dreaming? I blinked until the light transformed into images, around me was a room with sepia colors, a glass table in front of me, a chair and... a person? I remained silent, the person was looking at me confused, was it a dream, was I hallucinating, am I dead? 

- Doctor? So I should just buy these medicines? - she pointed to what appeared to be a prescription on top of the glass. 

- Uh... Yes.

- And then that's it? 

- Yes, yes...

She gave me a quizzical look before nodding and getting up, grabbing her things as she left to close the door, but not before giving me a look somewhere between confusion and anger. I stood there static, what the fuck was going on, where was I? I noticed a name holder on the table, I turned it over, reading the inscription: Dr. Nolan Bennet. Nolan? Wasn't that the name of the asshole doctor who was bothering my boyfriend? I groped my way up to look for a mirror, finding a reflection that didn't belong to me.

In front of me was a tall guy, with slightly curly hair, fair complexion and huge muscles, wearing a rather tight white shirt (I don't know if it was because the guy loved to wear clothes at least two sizes smaller than his own) or because the muscles were so many that it was inevitable to feel that way.

- Shit... - I whispered, bringing my hands up to my face - It must be a dream, right?

I sounded manic, talking to myself. But wasn't the situation crazy enough already? Being in another body that didn't belong to me, and more so in that one, specially in him. 

The surprise lasted a while, the shock rather; until it slowly faded into fascination. My hands landed directly on his pecs, feeling how firm and round they were, a nice layer of muscle that ironically also felt soft and spongy, I let out a low chuckle, before lifting my bicep and flexing it. 

This guy had latex gloves with him, I thought about taking them off but there was something strangely erotic about seeing his gloved and tight fingers. So I preferred to leave them right where they were. 

- I guess now it makes sense why you're so arrogant - I teased with a chuckle, flexing his arm more, enjoying how swollen and strong it felt. Was it 45 cm at least? I felt so huge! 

I peeled off my shirt as best I could until I was left with just my skin, sniffed the scent around me, noticing a bit of expensive cologne and soft musk. 

- You're an asshole doctor, aren't you? With muscles bigger than brains.

I flexed again, almost bodybuilder poses; his muscles lumpy, spongy as yeast. Even with those long, thick gloved fingers.

The dress pants also felt tight, snug, snug, wrapping my new legs perfectly. I turned around to see myself from behind, cupped my buttocks between my hands to squeeze them tightly, unable to help but let out a deep moan in the process. Enjoying the sound of my new thick voice.

My voice had always been somewhat high-pitched, so to have a baritone this deep...

- Heh. Did you get excited too?

I said teasingly, looking down at my new obelisk, I could see how the tent was rising in my pants, it felt thick and veiny. I felt like some kind of hung donkey, I continued to caress my buttocks, enjoying the plump feeling they left behind.

I heard a buzzing sound coming from the table. I turned towards him to take what seemed to be his cell phone, he had a couple of messages regarding his shifts and rotations, I could even see out of the corner of my eye one that seemed to be from a supervisor asking him why he hadn't passed a patient yet. But I decided to ignore it, it was not my problem.

Instead, I turned on the front camera, starting to take pictures of myself.

I had never been arrogant, I knew I looked good in my old body and very occasionally I looked at myself in the mirror with self-sufficiency, but now. This was so different, it was like exuding confidence and pure vanity, with that sharp jawline, sharp cheekbones, it was so sexy.

My body wasn't marked at all, maybe I was too lazy for the gym or focusing on it, so to now have these muscles all to myself. It was great.

Suddenly I felt the phone vibrate loudly, it was a video call from an unknown number, which I later recognized as mine, I answered with some nervousness. Was that guy in my body?

- Hello?...

I answered. I didn't even have time before I heard the screams and snorts of my old body, claims falling like rain.

- What are you doing in my body? What the fuck is this, freak?

He wouldn't even give me a breath to answer. It all came down to: How, why and who the fuck was I?

- I don't know what you're talking about, I...

- Don't be silly! Who are you?! How did you do it?! Give it back, you bastard! I don't know who you are and what you want, but…!

What he said got me thinking, he didn't know who I was. Totally oblivious to the idea that the guy he was making my life miserable was my boyfriend, but I did know who he was. I knew what he was capable of, his abuse.

- No, you little prick, you listen to me - he even stopped dead in his tracks, I saw his lip tremble. Something I used to do when I got nervous, I clenched my knuckles holding the cell phone - There's nothing you can do to stop this, to take this away from me.

In truth I had never been this selfish and cruel, but there was something gnawing at me inside. I began to flex in front of the video caller, as if I wanted to throw what I had taken from him back in his face even more.

- You're really proud of these guys, aren't you?

I said, making them expand into a ball.

- Stop, that's mine!

- Nah. It's mine now, what are you going to do, shout to the world that this was all yours? - I let out a chuckle, puffing out my chest, licking my lips - Lucky someone doesn't put you in the loony bin if you even think of saying that.

- B-but what about my career? Stop it!

- Ah, right - I smiled to stick my tongue out slightly, totally in a higher intent, I saw him gasp in terror and panic as I watched his body being defiled - Thank you for reminding me what my next step is.

He was about to scream something when I hung up the phone. I looked around, was I sure of what I wanted to do? I mean, yes. The guy was an idiot, an asshole and a sucker, but did he deserve everything I was about to do with his life? I wanted to go the logical route, but the image of my boyfriend crying himself to sleep chilled my blood, no, this had to be revenge.

I approached the door, took a deep breath, before leaving with my chest puffed out, as if it was the best thing in the world, no, in the fucking galaxy, and yes, without a T-shirt.

I could hear the gasps of astonishment or almost terror, some nurses turned around, other patients and doctors watched too long as I walked past with my bust fully in its nature, I winked a couple of times at one or another person.

Luckily the hospital wasn't that crowded (I would have surely been self-conscious), so I set the second part of the plan in motion.

- You guys love this, don't you? - I smacked my lips before unbuckling my belt and finally pulling down my pants. 

The room sank amidst a mixture of deep silence and muffled screams, I flexed my arms to do a back and forth with my tight boxers clinging to my tool, it was bouncing shamelessly, jiggling and showing the width and thickness of its capacity. 

- Pff. You wish you had me, you losers. 

I lurched underneath with force, so much so that I even let out a gasp that hovered between pleasure and pain, my face transformed into a completely lustful expression, sticking out my tongue and twisting my eyes, at first I thought it was all an act, but I had to admit that doing that in front of everyone, I was loving it too much. As soon as I was done with that performance, I pulled up my pants before walking quickly out of there. Who knows, they might call security or something, I didn't know how much time I had yet either, so I might as well hurry with the rest of the plan. I made my way as best I could to the student wing, entered the library, hoping that my boyfriend was there.

Sure enough, he was sitting there reading a couple of books that appeared to be medical articles, his eyes focused. So much so that he noticed I was in front of him like this, and even better. Alone. 

- Are you done doing nothing? - I muttered with a grunt. As soon as he heard “my” voice, he looked up startled, he was about to answer something nervous when he saw my appearance.

- Dr. Nolan, I... - He murmured, swallowing saliva - Why are you dressed like that? That's not appropriate.

He said, about to get up when I faced him, slamming my new palm firmly against his chest to hold him back in the chair.

- I've been thinking - I purred, bouncing my chest just inches from his face, he could barely look away - You're cute, maybe we could have some fun?

I whispered. To which he pulled away as best he could.

- Are you crazy or something? No, absolutely not. This is unethical, besides I have a boyfriend, what's wrong with you?

I raised my eyebrow, before letting out a laugh, he looked at me with some fright (though I don't blame him), he was looking at me like a maniac.

- Honey, it's me! - I smiled as I flexed my new attributes for him. My hand even went to caress my pecs, shit, maybe I'd get addicted to fondling them.

- What? Nolan! Are you out of your mind?!?

- Not at all! It's really me, your boyfriend! What's more, I can prove it to you - I started listing endless things, things that only he knew about us, I knew about him, about me.

- Hold on, hold on. Slow down, I believe you... - he whispered approaching me nervously, he looked at my face for a long time in silence - Is it really you?

- Of course I do, love! Do you like the way I look?

- But how?

- I haven't the slightest idea!

There was something strange about that feeling, it was like a bomb of euphoria and joy, pure concentrate, giggles kept escaping from my lips. I knew that at first I felt like the world was falling apart, but now I had a better idea of what was going on. With these thick muscles, that face to die for, how tight the clothes felt! It was so hot!

- Do you want to touch?

I smiled, taking his hand to guide it to my new breast, he gave it gentle caresses, too shy, until suddenly it began to take on more confidence and strength, tugging and kneading eagerly.

- Uh, love! - I gasped with a sigh, swallowing saliva, trying to keep up with her - W-wait, it's... It's too sensitive.

But he wouldn't stop, there was something in his gaze that seemed dark, our eyes met each other and he just twisted a smile.

- What is it, doctor? - he made an emphasis on the last word, I closed my eyes denying - Is something wrong?

He smiled.

I let out a moan before he cornered me against the wall, I felt a bookcase shake from my new weight as his deft hands roamed my pecs and slowly moved down my nipples.

- Love, stop...

- I thought you were more serious, doctor. Smarter, but now I have him moaning like crazy, ironic, don't you think?

I let out a heavy sigh, as his body stuck to fit in between my legs, he grabbed my waist tightly, starting to knead my buttocks, I felt his hand slide right up against the divide between them, to which I let out a yelp.

- Ah!

- No wonder your surgical pajamas looked so tight. With such tremendous stuff...

I felt so submissive, I didn't know why, it was strange considering this body was huge, the living expression of masculinity and virality if you wanted to look at it that way. But that didn't matter much if my boyfriend had me tightly by the hair, my face against the books as he slid his tool into my entrance.

Nobody knew what happened that day in the middle of bookcases, choked gasps and some liquid dripping all over the place... But, what everyone did hear about and remember, without a doubt, was the performance that "Nolan" did in the middle of the waiting area. A notice of dismissal and revocation of license was not long in coming, I thought at that moment to return to my body but... nothing was happening. As much as I tried to repeat the formula, I was still stuck in this body. Trapped.

I thought I put the noose around my neck, until it occurred to me to make the most of it all (because yes, also even made it to social platforms the video, half the world now knew who I was)

- Hey.... - I whispered into the microphone with a smile - How are you, ready for another video?

I asked with a flex as I watched the chat fill up with different comments, each one hungrier than the last. Turns out that my going viral in this body opened the door for a career from streaming and then some... (and thank goodness because if I had kept his medical career, I would know absolutely nothing. I kept his body, but not his memories, I was completely lost on where the pancreas was and where the liver was). Platforms full of shirtless pictures, kissing me with my boyfriend, from our intimacy and more.

- So what do you want me to take off my shirt? Done.

I smiled to take off my shirt, bouncing my juicy pecs, I still couldn't get over the feeling of it, how thick they felt, the almost electric shock of just rubbing the shirt, and it was even better when my boyfriend did it.

The bank accounts exploded, I didn't even have to worry about what I would do in the workplace after technically ruining this body's future career.

And best of all, my boyfriend loves it (I have to admit… he's gotten a hell of a lot more dominant since then. And ironically, I've become more submissive, it's like I can't think of anything else to do but obey him).

- Do you belong to me, or don't you?

- I do, sir! - I gasped for his attention.

- Are you a brainless himbo fool?

- I am! I am yours!

I nodded eagerly. My new tool dripping, compressing as best it could against the tight pants that held it in.

- Then flex, you silly bitch.

He smirked. I obeyed, as if I could only enjoy this body with him and for him, if that was all I had to serve and devote myself to.

- Just like that… That's the way I like it - He whispered running his hands down my arms, he even sunk his face against my armpit, to which I gasped, I tried to lower my hands but he ended up slapping me - You won't do anything if I don't order you first.

- Yes, I'm sorry sir - I muttered with my tongue out like a dumb dog.

- I think I have something better to keep your mouth entertained.

- Mfffh!

It was as if my personality changed, I was still me, of course. I liked the same things, had the same ambitions or interests, but there was something inside me that honestly stuck to the "himbo" stereotype, bouncing my pecs happily, sometimes forgetting to put on deodorant. And what to say about my feet! They were now huge and stinky, I had to air them constantly if I didn't want to stink up all my footwear.

And what about Nolan? He had no choice but to stay in my body, I think he is thinking of starting medicine from scratch, I really don't care what happened to his life. I hope it teaches him a lesson and he sees all he missed out on and it was his (because yes, I can still see him hanging around in my profiles, maybe he loves getting “action” while he remembers what was once his, loser)

My relationship with my boyfriend became stronger than ever, he was the same loving guy I had fallen in love with, and all dominant in bed, he seemed unhinged but I loved that. He knew exactly how to make my legs tremble and I was nowhere near dripping saliva from my lips. I think I loved this change.

----

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

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

---

[possessionsyeahman]

Lucky Charm

Disclaimer: This story was proofread by AI. I suck as spelling.

Pete tore through his locker, shoving aside damp towels and sweaty socks that reeked of too many hours on the field as he frantically searched for his treasured lucky charm. His grandmother had given the delicate clover pendant to him when he was six, promising it would bring him luck. He’d worn it through every tackle, every workout, every winning pass. It wasn’t just a charm at this point. It was part of him, just like the light brown hair plastered to his sweaty forehead or the steely blue eyes that made girls swoon. His chest heaved, and his heart slammed against his ribs in panic at the thought of playing the big game tonight without it.

“Rhys!” Pete’s deep voice echoed off the tiled walls, thick with desperation. His teammate lounged on a bench, lacing up his cleats. “Have you seen my charm? I swear it was here before I hit the showers.”

Rhys snorted, barely glancing up. “You’re the golden boy who can do no wrong. You don’t need some pussy charm.” His dark eyes flicked over, taunting. “Man up.”

Pete’s jaw clenched, his pretty-boy face, golden tan, chiselled lines, twisting into something harder. “Just tell me if you’ve seen it, asshole.”

“Nah.” Rhys stood with the swagger of a cocky college jock and sauntered toward the field. “Check your panties, bro. Maybe it’s tangled up in there.”

The door slammed, leaving Pete alone with the buzz of the shitty locker room lights and the stench of stale sweat. He ripped into his duffel again, biceps bulging as he tore through its contents. Nothing. His pulse spiked, a cold sweat prickling his neck. Something was wrong. The air felt too thick. A wave of dizziness hit him, and the room tilted. He gripped the locker door, knuckles white, growling, “Pull it together. You don’t need a stupid charm.” But his voice trembled with doubt.

Then it started.

A pull, deep in his gut, like his insides were collapsing. Pete sucked in a shocked breath, his broad chest shuddering as he staggered back, big feet kicking over the bench behind him. His legs, those tree-trunk quads honed from years on the field, quivered. He stared down, heart pounding, as the hard muscle softened, shrinking like it was melting away. His skin tingled, a cold emptiness spreading across his body, as if his very vitality were draining away. His calves, once meaty and veined, flattened into frail sticks. “What the fuck…” His voice cracked, horror seeping in.

His arms went next. The biceps that powered his game-winning throws withered, veins sinking beneath increasingly pale skin, his saucer-sized hands shrinking away. His shoulders slumped, narrow and weak. He felt light, hollow, as his 6’4” frame collapsed inward. His jersey sagged off a bony shoulder, sweatpants pooling around his slimming hips. Cold air bit his skin, before a new panic clawed at him.

His cock, his pride, thick and heavy, was shrinking too. He grabbed at it, small hands fumbling, desperate to hold onto what defined him. But it dwindled to nothing, his balls shrinking to pathetic pebbles. “No, no, fuck no!” he screamed, but it came out as a reedy squeak that churned his stomach. His body wasn’t his anymore. It was betraying him. 

Pete stumbled to the mirror, weak legs barely holding him up. The reflection was a stranger. No chiselled jaw, no piercing blue eyes. Just a soft, round face, eyes wide with panic, a weak chin, and thin hair. His ribs poked out under pale, hairless skin, his abs gone, his frame frail. He wasn’t a jock anymore. He was nothing. His mind screamed. Without the necklace, who was he? Not the star quarterback. Not the guy who owns every room he walks into. Just… nothing. His hands shook, clawing at his chest, desperate for the familiar weight of the clover pendant.

The door banged open, and Rhys stormed in, meaty fingers fumbling with his helmet. His eyes narrowed at the sight of the scrawny kid drowning in Pete’s clothes. “Who the fuck are you?” he barked, crossing the room in two strides. “Some twink sneaking in to jack Pete’s shit? Get out!”

“Rhys, it’s me!” Pete pleaded, voice breaking. He reached out, but Rhys grabbed his skinny wrist, twisting it effortlessly. Pain shot through him, his frail body folding to his friend’s superior strength.

“Bullshit.” Rhys shoved him hard, sending him stumbling into the hall. “Get your bony ass outta here before I kick it in.” The door slammed, locking Pete out of the locker room, and with it, the life he’d known.

He sank against a nearby wall, breath shallow, hands shaking as they clutched his slim neck where the necklace should have been. His luck had run out.

Across town…

Lars stood alone in his boyfriend’s bathroom, toying with the latch of a silver chain, a clover pendant dangling against his scrawny chest. He’d swiped it from Pete during a tutoring gig, thinking it’d spice up his roleplay with Sammy. Sammy loved it when Lars pretended to be the jock, despite his lanky frame, pale skin, and shy, wide eyes. He worked the clasp, admiring how it hung low on his thin chest. Finally, it clicked into place, and he stood back to admire his stolen trinket. It was the perfect prop from the golden boy himself.

It started slow. A simmering heat bloomed in his chest before spreading like molten lava through his veins. The pendant pulsed, glowing a pale green, syncing with his racing heartbeat. “Oh god, what’s happening?” he whimpered, voice trembling, head pounding with fear. Then came an electric buzz that made his breath catch. It was starting to feel good.

CRACK. A raw, electric jolt hit him, igniting his bones. Lars grunted, stumbling back as his body erupted. The heat surged, a wildfire consuming him, his meagre muscles spasming as they clawed outward. His forearms thickened, veins bulging like twisted ropes. His biceps ballooned into meaty peaks, splitting his t-shirt sleeves, the fabric tearing as he flexed, power surging like a drug.

The fire hit his chest next. His pecs swelled into thick slabs, stretching his shirt until it groaned and tore down the centre. He ran his hands over them, fingers digging into the firm, hot flesh, feeling the weight and mass. “Fuck… yes,” he growled, voice dropping an octave. His shoulders broadened, deltoids bulging unnaturally, making him wider, more imposing. His spine cracked, stretching him taller—6’0” to 6’2”, then 6’4”—the ceiling closing in as his skeleton shifted to accommodate his growing mass. The room shrank around him as he began to take up more and more space.

It was as if the necklace was giving Lars every advantage Pete had ever had. The dividends of all those years of gruelling workouts, of meticulous healthy eating, of sun-soaked afternoons on the football field, were now paying off for Lars and Lars alone.

His legs trembled as the transformation roared downward. His thighs thickened, quads piling on striated muscle, splitting his shorts at the seams. His calves bulged, veins snaking to his feet, which burst through his sneakers, his size 8s morphing into monstrous 14s, toes curling as his body was wracked with pleasure and pain. His ass hardened into granite orbs, straining his trunks as his hips widened. He moaned, the deep, guttural sound reverberating through the room.

But the real rush hit his groin. His cock swelled, growing hotter, heavier, and lengthening inch by torturous inch. The elastic of his trunks snapped, unable to contain the girth as his shaft surged free, thick veins pulsing. It was monstrous. Three times its original size, impossibly thick, the head swollen and glistening with pre-cum. He gripped it, his enlarged hand barely wrapping around, stroking slowly, savouring the ecstatic jolts. “Ohhh, fuck yeah,” he moaned, hips bucking, a primal need overtaking him. His balls churned, swelling heavy and full, testosterone flooding his system.

The pleasure was unbearable, a mix of agony and euphoria. He yanked off his shredded clothes, standing naked and massive, every muscle flexing as he admired himself. His red hair was wilder, sweat-soaked, his eyes sharper with newfound confidence. His pale skin stretched over a body that screamed dominance, broad shoulders, chiselled abs, and a cock that could split a man in two. He loved what he saw in the mirror, and what he felt beneath his fingertips as he explored every curve and line of his growing form.

But the change wasn’t only physical. His mind twisted with each pulse of growth. Confidence drowned out his nerdy insecurities. Power coursed through him, rewriting him into a man who took what he wanted. He squeezed his massive nuts, snarling at the pleasure-pain, imagining the world bending to his will.

Sammy burst in, drawn by the guttural moans shaking the apartment. He froze. Lars stood before the dirty bathroom mirror, a towering epitome of raw masculinity. His dirty red hair curled wild and sweaty over his forehead, framing light blue eyes that burned with a feral glint. His flushed pink skin, stretched tight over a mountain of muscle, glistening with sweat, thick veins pulsing beneath. His biceps bulged obscenely, larger than most men’s thighs, and deep striations carved across his meaty pecs as they heaved with each breath. His quads twitched, massive and unyielding, forcing his stance wide, while his ass was hard, plump, and begged to be grabbed. At his groin, a monstrous cock hung heavy, veins snaking along its length, the head swollen and dripping.  

“Lars, what the…” Sammy choked, voice trembling. Lars turned, towering over him, grin predatory. “Get on your knees, Sammy. Now.”

Sammy hesitated, his heart hammering. This wasn’t his Lars. But his cock betrayed him, aching for the monster before him. “Lars, I…” he stammered, but Lars’ piercing gaze silenced him. He dropped, hands trembling as they reached for the impossible girth.

Lars grabbed Sammy’s head, fingers knotting in his hair, shoving him closer. “Suck it,” he ordered, hips thrusting forward. Sammy’s lips stretched wide, struggling to take the swollen head, gagging as it battered his throat. Lars groaned, the wet heat sending shocks up his spine. He thrust harder, loving Sammy’s choking, the way his slender hands gripped his thighs. “Fuck yeah, take it,” he growled, hips pumping with brutal rhythm. Sammy slurped, spit dripping down his chin, driven by desperate lust.

Lars’ body fed off the dominance, biceps swelling as he flexed, chest heaving. His cock thickened in Sammy’s mouth, stretching his lips further. He could feel Sammy’s submission, his trembling frame, and it fueled him. “You’re mine,” he snarled, shoving deeper, fucking Sammy’s throat with abandon. His balls tightened, the pressure building.

Sammy’s hands roamed Lars’ abs and quads, worshipping the god he’d become. Lars flexed, showing off his mass, the raw masculinity owning the room. The necklace pulsed one last time. Lar’s height ticked to 6’5” and his shoulders widened, accentuating his v-taper even more. His vascularity and muscle feathering surged as his cock pulsed bigger still. Sammy gagged harder, tears streaming. But he didn’t stop. He was too consumed by lust for the god standing before him.

The climax hit like a tidal wave. Lars roared, slamming into Sammy’s throat with a one deep, savage thrust. His cock pulsed, erupting in thick, hot volleys that flooded Sammy’s mouth, spilling out as he choked. Lars threw his head back in ecstasy as the climax rolled over him, his muscles twitching and his body trembling. As the pleasure subsided, he pulled out, his shaft still hard and glistening with spit and cum. With a flick of his hand, he unceremoniously smeared his dripping mushroom head across Sammy’s face. “Good boy,” he rumbled, voice thick with satisfaction.

Sammy slumped, panting, his face a mess of cum and sweat. “You’re… unreal,” he rasped. Lars loomed over him, radiating heat and musk. “Fuck, I could get used to this,” he growled, voice dripping with arrogance. 

Sammy’s eyes raked over Lars’ new colossal form, his gaze lingering on the obscene cock that was still pointing right at him. Sammy rose, hands sliding up Lars’ sweat-slick thighs, until he was level with Lars’ plump pecs. He briefly looked up at the handsome face above him before turning away. The tower of muscle above him was a walking wet dream. But what happened to the kind and caring Lars that he used to know? 

After a few moments of silence, Lars grabbed his chin, forcing their eyes to meet. In those light blues, Sammy saw a familiar kindness that made his heart melt. With that, Lars yanked him close, crashing their lips together in a tender embrace. When they broke apart, Lars smirked, “How’s that for roleplay?” tossing Sammy a cheeky wink.

If you like my stories and want to support my writing, please consider shouting me a coffee over on ko-fi.

[possessionsyeahman]

Three Prey from Perfection

My new captions, 9/27/2023, maleeatsmale

[possessionsyeahman]

Reason to Steal Older Brother's Body 8

So you can ruin that bitch Trish and her douchebag boyfriend Cole wedding day. Your older brother is in the same circle with them and he never even defended you and preferred to side with his friends instead. So, you take the matter into your own hand by getting yourself into your older brother before he departed for the week-long bachelor party-wedding reception outing in New York.

You also brought along your boyfriend and hid him for the grand surprise.

You passed through the bachelor party as you tapped into your brother's personality and memory, feeling awful as fuck every single night for the way he spoke, he cussed or teased the various women invited in-and-out of the entourage of Cole's bachelor party crew. But the grand mission is always the main goal and you are determined to succeed.

On the wedding day, you enacted the plan as you lovingly sealed Cole's fate with the knot of the bowtie.

Your boyfriend's soul that you've merged with the bowtie directly pressed itself into Cole's physique and with just a little writhing and groaning, your boyfriend is in perfect control of Cole's body

"Now, let's get you ready. We have a wedding to do and a heck of a crowd to surprise,"

And boy, the crowd went from awkward silence to full-blown hysteria upon seeing the two of you kissed. They of course seemingly witnessed Cole Parrish and David Walters kissed each other lovingly while the bride tearfully walked off from the altar, and that's the only thing they need to know anyway. This also practically sealed the fate of you two as there's no going back now and you are now embarking on a journey with the man of your dream, in a much bigger and more mature body.

[possessionsyeahman]

No Guts, No Glory

It didn't take long for me to find my older brother-- he was sitting alone at one of the cafe tables, completely withdrawn into his own world. Despite being four years older than me, few people ever guessed that Hank was the older brother. He closely resembled Mom, with a short stature and an eternal babyface. I was the opposite, taking after Dad's massive height and broad shoulders. I know it was something that always bothered him, though he'd gotten better about hiding his irritation as we grew older. With any luck, I'd be able to use that to my advantage.

"Thanks again for agreeing to meet me here," I said, sitting down across from him. "I know you're probably busy with work and all, but I think if--"

He looked up at me, and I found myself trailing off mid-thought. "Ryan," he said, folding his hands in front of him, "get to the point. I only have an hour for my lunch break, and we both know you're trying to butter me up for some sort of ridiculous request. What do you want from me?"

"Guilty as charged," I said, smiling at him. I pulled out the portfolio I had assembled while I launched into my explanation. "Okay, well... you know how I got that scholarship at UCLA for football. The thing is-- and I'd never tell Dad this-- but I fucking hate football. I'm good at it, sure, but only because of these ridiculous genetics. Also hard work at the gym," I added, seeing him roll his eyes, "but you can't deny genetics played a large role. The thing is, I'd rather try my hand at modeling. But I don't have the face for it. Not like you."

Hank looked closer at the portfolio pages I had spread across the table. "These photos... these are all me. Are you trying to catfish a modeling career? If you think you can convince me to take a sudden career change--"

"I'm trying to convince you to agree to a body swap," I said, cutting him off. I took advantage of his stunned silence to pull out the one photo of me that I had placed in the portfolio. "You haven't seen the muscle I've put on since you left for college. You've always wanted to be the hyper-masculine brother. Me? I want to be approachable. I can't do that with this body. Not as easily as you could."

He looked at me, and I knew from the look in his eyes that I had a chance. "Suppose a body swap is even possible. Are you really giving up your college years for a chance at a modelling career? That's a hell of a longshot, Ryan."

I shrugged. "No guts, no glory. I know I could make it big if I had your body. Besides, even if I fall short... in your body, I can live the life that I want. I... I'm gay, Hank. No one ever lets me bottom. And I know it's a ridiculous problem to complain about, especially to you, but... I don't want all of this anymore," I said, groping my pecs. "But you? You've wanted it for years. I know you have."

Hank folded his hands together as he stared off into the distance. "If anyone else had come to me with a story like this, I would have left ages ago," he said, continuing to stare at the wall behind me. "You've always worn your heart on your sleeve, though. You're too honest to lie. Or too stupid, I've never quite been sure." He smiled at me, and I smiled back at him. "I suppose if you did take my body, the first thing you'd do is quit my job. I haven't even been there for two weeks yet, so no big loss there. After that... we have the same family, we know enough about each other's friends to keep the awkward interactions to a minimum... I can't believe I'm considering this. Alright. How do we do this?"

I would have hugged him if there hadn't been a table in the way. "I'll let my friend know that you've agreed," I said, trembling with excitement. "We both have to be fully willing in order for this to work, and he'll probably want to make sure we both understand it's a permanent swap, but... yeah. We're actually doing this."

It took a few days before Carlos was available to switch our bodies, and I was worried that Hank would change his mind. To my relief, I think he might have been more excited than I was. Learning to respond to a new name has been a hell of a learning curve, but aside from that, it's been a dream. I was able to land a few local advert jobs, and from there I've been able to network my way into better gigs. Today was the first job that felt like actual modeling work, and I couldn't be happier. Hank's body has been perfect for this career, just as I had hoped. And to my surprise, everyone has been super supportive.

I was curious how my brother was going to handle having to repeat college, and it turns out he just plans to retake all of the same classes. Our parents were surprised when Hank-- well, Ryan-- changed his major to computer science, but I think he's done a pretty good job of playing off the new behavior. People kind of expect teenagers to reinvent themselves in college, so that definitely helped.

I made sure to go to the gym with him for the first two weeks. We got a ton of odd looks from people wondering why an absolute twink was giving instructions to someone twice his size, but I needed to make sure he wasn't getting set up for failure. Not that I expected him to get a lot of playtime as a second string freshman, but his scholarship was tied to his ability to stay in shape. He always hated football when we were younger, but I think Hank-- ah, dammit. I think Ryan is learning to appreciate it in his new massive frame.

His personality hasn't really changed, but now it comes across as a stoic resolve rather than awkward shyness like it used to. And me, people are a lot less suspicious of my non-stop social energy and endless small talk now that I don't have the ability to crush their head in my arms. Just look at my old body. No one ever expected me to be friendly.

And yeah, sometimes I wonder what it would have been like to go to college. But you can't make an omelet without cracking some eggs, you know? Besides, it's not like I traded away all of my youth. Four years isn't that much, and I still get to live it up on the weekends. It was a huge gamble for both of us, but the results speak for themselves. It's been glorious.

[possessionsyeahman]

More captions

I have gotten some good feedback on the captions, I was wondering if you guys like the speech bubbles/ thought bubbles I put on the pictures or would you prefer them without? Let me know and let me know if there are any tf themes you might want to see more of! I STILL HAVEN'T SEEN HIM - (sequel) shrinking and farts

WITNESS PROTECTION - Weight gain, age progression

ANOTHER BAD WISH - Twisted wish

BRAINS AND BRAWN - Inanimate tf

BAD DEAL - Humiliation with lots of tfs

NEW MASTER - Hypnosis and some sissification

[possessionsyeahman]

“Didn’t know you were up, princess.”

I jumped, turning around fast, already feeling that sinking heat in my gut. Drake stood in the living room, lit only by the spill of light from the table lamp. Tall. Towering. 6’5” of carved muscle and thick attitude, shirtless, grey boxer-briefs barely containing him, the curve of his cock already visible, already bold. He scratched lazily at his abs, watching me like a cat watches a trembling mouse.

“What’s up?” I tried to sound casual, but my voice cracked.

He smirked. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Just… noticed a pattern.”

I blinked. “What?”

Drake took a step closer, then another. “You think I don’t hear you when I walk past your room? At night?” His eyes glittered. “Little moans. The bed creaking. Whispering my name under your breath like you think the walls won’t carry it.”

I flushed hard, instinctively retreating, but he was already in front of me. His voice lowered, slow and amused. “I’m not mad, man. Shit’s flattering. Just figured I’d bring it up since you’re clearly not sleeping—and neither am I.”

“That’s not—I don’t—”

“Oh come on.” He grinned now, wolfish, confident. “You’re gay. So what? Not exactly subtle, dude. Every time I come out in just a towel, your face turns redder than a stop sign. Thought it was cute. Harmless.”

His voice dropped half an octave. “But then I started thinking about all those little sounds. Those late-night sessions.” He leaned down, his chest nearly brushing mine. “You touching yourself, thinking about me. What exactly were you picturing? My hands? My cock?”

I pushed against him, mortified, but it was like pressing on a brick wall. ��Drake, seriously, shut up!”

His smile faded instantly. The teasing drained out of his eyes like someone killing the lights.

“No. You don’t get to talk now.”

He shoved me hard — chest to chest — until my back hit the wall. I gasped, arms trapped between our bodies, his height drowning mine out.

“You’ve been jerking off to me for weeks,” he said, voice a low growl. “Moaning my name like a needy little bitch and then pretending nothing’s happening in the daylight. I don’t do fake.”

“Drake…” I tried, but his hand clamped around my jaw, thumb on my cheek, fingers digging in.

“You wanted this. Don’t act innocent. You fantasized about me taking control, right?” His hips pressed against mine, the heat of his cock unmistakable. “Bending you over. Ruining you. Well, guess what — fantasy’s over.”

I struggled weakly but he grabbed both my wrists in one massive hand and pinned them above my head against the wall. His other hand yanked my boxers down in one smooth motion.

“You’re gonna take it,” he hissed into my ear. “You’re gonna shut up, moan like the little toy you are, and you’re gonna make that fantasy real.”

And then he kissed me — no warning, no sweetness — just teeth and tongue and raw heat. His chest crushed mine, thighs forcing my legs open. His cock pressed hard and hot between us, and he growled again when I whimpered.

“You’re mine now,” he said, dragging me from the kitchen like a trophy. “And I’m gonna make sure every goddamn inch of your body remembers it.”

[possessionsyeahman]

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...

[possessionsyeahman]

No Nut November

For Tommy and his friends, No Nut November had become a yearly tradition. While he didn’t necessarily look forward to it, the blonde always seemed to win- often being able to outlast his buddies. And while this year had certainly been close, it looked like Tommy was going to take to take home the bragging rights. Sure, his dick ached with need and he had been neglecting it for the past couple of weeks. And while his boyfriend often made fun of him for engaging in such a “stupid contest”, Tommy was more of a strict bottom anyway and got plenty of his needs met that way.

“Congrats on your victory babe.” His boyfriend had texted him, “I have a surprise for you when I get home.” The winky face at the end of the message told Tommy everything he needed to know- and he was definitely looking forward to whatever activities his boyfriend had planned.

But as Tommy continued to go about his daily activities, still ignoring the ache in his dick, a new feeling settled in his stomach. He rubbed his sore abs and took a few deep breaths as he felt an odd cramping sensation welling up from deep within him. He assumed it must’ve been something he ate and walked to the bathroom. But the discomfort didn’t seem to stop- only getting worse as his body temperature rose. He quickly removed his clothing, the cool air of the room feeling nice on his warm skin, while a cool draft caused his cock to stir with pleasure and pain. Tommy nearly doubled over at the feeling in his aching member- staring at it as it grew. He touched it gently and immediately fell to his back from the intensity of the pleasure.

“Wh-what the fuck.” He breathed out, lying on the ground, his eyes unfocused from the waves of pleasure and pain that coursed throughout his lean body.

And like a sudden compulsion, he felt his arms forced to extend above his head, an aching sensation emanating throughout them. He watched as his arms started to fill with muscle, while his hands started to shift and change- becoming wider while his fingers shortened and became stubbier.

“Fuck yeah, finally!” Another voice called out softly, so softly that Tommy barely heard it.

“Who’s there?” Tommy replied, fear taking hold of his mind.

But before he could register anything else, he felt another creaking and cracking of his muscles. This time, he watched as his pecs appeared to sink into themselves, his nipples disappearing, while a small hole formed in the center of what used to be his chest. At the same time, it appeared as though his legs were also beginning to shift. His feet were taking on the appearance of hands, while his leg muscles shifted, taking on an appearance similar to incredibly muscular arms. Tommy looked down at what used to be his arms and his eyes widened as he realized his hands were now two large and calloused feet, tufts of hair on the surface of them. And as his arms packed on more and more muscle, he felt his head being squeezed on either side.

“Ah this feels so good.” The voice was less soft, louder and more present.

Tommy let out a surprised yelp as he felt his body push itself up until the blonde found himself doing what felt like a handstand. And that’s when it dawned on Tommy. His arms were now a pair of muscular and powerful legs, ending with large manly feet. He tried to crane his neck to look up but barely could.

“Ha-ha broooo.” The voice called out, “Fuckin’ look at me.” It said in its deep baritone voice. The same stupid voice that Tommy associated with frat bros.

“St-stop...pl-please.” Tommy called out, his own voice becoming softer. He noticed he was having a harder time moving his mouth to form words.

But he was ignored and suddenly found himself swinging from side to side as his body began to move on its own. He could do nothing as he continued to feel himself change further. First, he felt as though he was no longer able to move his neck and he watched as he blond locks fell from his head. And then for a split second, the world went dark before his field of vision returned, albeit somewhat limited. The same with his hearing. The muscular legs on either side of him became coated in hairs. As he tried to call out again, Tommy felt what he initially thought was phlegm rise from the back of his throat. The liquid was salty and seemed to dribble from his mouth, causing him to want to gag, but he found himself unable to. None of this made sense, and he was trying to get a better glimpse of himself. All he could make out was what looked like a hairy muscular abdomen above him, and two thick hairy thighs on either side of him. Questions filled his mind as he tried to understand his situation. But before he could think more on it, he heard a dumb chuckle and suddenly, Tommy felt as though his face was being stretched- another aching sensation coursing through his head and neck.  

“Ya know you’ve neglected me for a long time.” The booming voice said. Tommy wanted to yelp as he felt a hand wrap around him, “But I’m not gonna do that to you bro.” Tommy barely had any idea what the voice was saying, “Huh, that’s right. This might be a bit confusing for ya brah. Here have a look.”

If Tommy could, he would’ve screamed. In the mirror was one of the largest, hairiest men that he had ever seen. The guy looked like he played football, the pinnacle of masculinity with a stupid dopey grin on his chiseled face. But that was less shocking compared to what Tommy soon came to realize. The man was holding his fat, enlarged member, which is when Tommy was able to put it all together.

“That’s right bro, you ignored me for so long, I just had to take control.” The jock laughed, “And well that means we had to switch places.”

Tommy felt a sense of dread well up from deep within him. This couldn’t be happening- he was a human! Not a cock. This wasn’t possible. As his mind bounced around trying to rationalize his way through this, the jock smiled.

“Well aren’t you eager.” He chuckled in his dim voice, scratching at his hairy pec, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

And that’s when Tommy felt it. The hand around his cylindrical body began to pump up and down, faster and faster. His thoughts became harder to focus on as pleasure coursed throughout his body- the calloused hand that played with him igniting wave after wave of pleasure. He felt himself twitch, his hard cylindrical body throbbing in anticipation. The jock smirked and quickened his pace.

“Yeah, you like that, huh? Think you could just ignore me?” He moaned out, his pace quickening, “Never again bro. Turned you into my needy cock. Showing you what a real man looks like.” Tommy could barely register any of the words, the liquid in the back of his throat rising faster and faster, “Fuck dude!” The jock moaned out as he finally came, sending wave after wave of cum from Tommy’s new mouth.

Tommy could barely process the level of pleasure that rocketed through his new body. His mind was nearly shattered as his cylindrical body softened and dangled limply between the jock’s legs. But as Tommy was winding down from the pleasure, he felt something cover his entire body, throwing his world into darkness. The jock smirked and posed in the mirror, showing off his bulge and ass, which were covered in black compression underwear. There was another dumb chuckle, and Tommy twitched in pleasure as the jock grabbed him through his underwear.

“Welcome to your new home, bro.” The jock chuckled, “Now let’s go find that boyfriend of yours. If I had to guess, that ass of his was also feeling pretty neglected. Someone ought to help him out, don’t you think?” And Tommy felt his new body quickly expanding, pressed up tightly against the confines of the new jock’s underwear.

[possessionsyeahman]

No Nut November 2

A direct sequel to No Nut November

________

The sound of keys jingling and footsteps approaching the front door snapped the jock out of his post-orgasmic haze. He grinned wickedly, giving his new package a firm squeeze.

"Showtime, buddy boy. Hope you're ready for this."

Luke took a deep breath as he entered his shared home with Tommy. He felt good post-workout. His muscles ached, and the cool air felt good against his sleeveless arms.

"Tommy's gonna love these." He thought, looking down at his biceps.

A sense of pride swelled- he was definitely making progress. He couldn't wait to hold Tommy close against him with his big arms and plant kisses down his neck.

"Hey babe, I'm ho-" Luke stopped mid-sentence as he saw the huge, hairy beast of a man standing in the living room, "Uh, who the hell are you? Where's Tommy?"

The new jock grinned, stroking his massive bulge. He could feel Tommy twitching.

"Name's Chad. Your boy Tommy and I had a little…switch-up. He's right here." He patted his crotch slowly.

Luke raised an eyebrow. "What the fuck are you talking about?" 

Luke's eyes narrowed as he looked the intruder up and down, taking in every inch of the muscular, hairy frame. This guy was bigger than him, meatier than him- clearly knew his way around the gym.

"Oh, I think you heard me loud and clear, buddy boy. Your little bitch boyfriend thought he could neglect me. So I gave him a new purpose." He reached down and cupped the prominent bulge straining against his tight underwear, "But I'm not cruel like him, I'm giving him plenty of attention."

"You're not making any sense. Stop playing fucking games." Luke snarled, fists clenching at his sides. "Where. Is. Tommy."

Chad threw his head back and laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to shake the very walls of the apartment. 

"Oh man, you really don't get it, do you? Let me spell it out for you, dumbass." He reached down and grabbed the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down to expose his massive, throbbing cock. "This right here? This is Tommy now. Just my fat, throbbing fuck stick."

Luke's eyes widened in shock and disbelief as he stared at the enormous appendage. That didn't make sense. What the fuck was this guy talking about?

"What kind of fucking sick joke is this?" Luke took a step forward, fists clenched.

"Believe it, bro. Little Tommy is loving every second of his new life as my meaty cock. Can't you tell?" Almost if on cue, precum dripped from the tip of Chad's massive cock.

"Fuck this. Get out now." Luke grabbed his phone- he would call Tommy, then the cops and get this figured out.

But with lightning speed, Chad was on top of Luke, forcing the phone out of his hands.

"Oh don't worry. You'll be reacquainted with Tommy." Chad smirked as he forced Luke to his knees, despite the other man's resistance, "Time to teach you what happens when you neglect such a perfect ass." Luke tried to struggle, to push away, but it was useless. Chad's grip was iron-tight as he forcibly sank to his knees.

"This is what you get for being such a selfish top," Chad sneered, fisting his massive cock mere inches from Luke's face.

Despite Luke's best efforts to resist, Chad overpowered him. With a firm grip on the back of Luke's head, the muscular jock thrust his hips forward, forcing his massive cock past the other man's lips and deep into his throat.

"Fuuuuck yeah, take it all like a good little cock sleeve!" Chad's heavy balls slapped against Luke's chin.

Luke's thoughts were racing- how was this happening? Was he really getting face fucked right now? What about Tommy? Was Tommy okay? Luke's hands weakly pushing up against Chad's massive hairy thighs. But his resistance faded when he heard a familiar voice echo in his mind with each thrust of the jock's cock.

"L-Luke? Oh god, baby, is that you? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen!"

Luke's eyes widened in shock as Tommy's panicked voice rang out in his head. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he struggled to swallow the massive cock.

"T-Tommy? Baby, what the hell is going on? How are you inside my head? Where are you?" Luke thought, drool leaking down his chin.

"I-I don't know, I swear! One minute I was normal, and the next…" Tommy's mental voice hitched, "Oh god, Luke, I'm so fucking hard right now. Being in your throat like this…it feels amazing!"

Luke shuddered as he suddenly felt a tingling sensation in his hands. He glanced down in confusion, watching as his strong, muscular digits began to shrink and reshape before his eyes. His fingers curled inward, palms shifting, joints cracking. Within moments, his hands had completely transformed into dainty, high-arched feet, wiggling helplessly at the ends of his wrists.

Tommy's disembodied voice echoed in Luke's mind, "Oh my god, Luke! I think it's happening to you too!"

"W-what's happening to me, Tommy?" Luke's panicked voice echoed in their shared mental space.

Luke gasped around Chad's pistoning cock as he felt a searing heat spread through his upper arms. He watched in shock as his sculpted biceps and triceps began to shift and morph. The dense muscle thinned and elongated, condensing into two slender, hairless legs. They twisted and contorted, positioning themselves to rest delicately upon Chad's broad, hairy shoulders.

"Fuck, your new legs feel so good wrapped around me," Chad grunted, continuing his relentless assault on Luke's throat.

"Luke, no you need to get away!" Tommy's frantic mental voice rang out as Luke felt his powerful legs and thighs beginning to tingle and shift.

Luke whimpered around Chad's cock as he felt his muscular thighs slim down and condense. The thick, ropy muscles smoothed out into sleek, hairless arms. His feet shifting into dainty hands in a series of sickening cracks.

"Tommy… please tell me what's happening." He begged again, although terrified of the answer.

His eyes widened as his hair began to fall before his eyes. But worse yet, his once chiseled jawline softened, cheekbones becoming more pronounced as his face plumped out slightly. He could feel his neck shrinking, as his head merged with his upper chest, which was condensing, forming the curve of his new lower back. At the same time, his abs rippled and took on the form of lean back muscles and small, petite shoulders.

"Mmm, look at these. Gonna look so hot bouncing on my cock!" Chad grinned wickedly, reaching up to grope and knead the doughy flesh of Luke's increasingly plump cheeks, "So soft…"

"Mhmmmm yes daddy…"

Luke recoiled, at the sound of a new voice that seemingly piped up from behind him, sounding needy and desperate. It was soft. Barely an audible whisper.

"Please… Use me! It's been so long… I've been so lonely without anyone to play with me."

"Look at this little slut already begging for cock." He glared down at Luke, who's face was becoming more and more obscured by his expanding cheeks, "Your poor ass, dude. Can't you tell how much you've been neglecting it?"

"Oh god… Luke…" Tommy whispered, his sense of dread palpable as he realized too what was happening, "You're… Luke... I'm so sorr-"

Tommy's voice cut off abruptly as Chad pulled his massive cock out of Luke's throat with a wet pop. Saliva and precum dribbled down Luke's chin as he gulped for air, hyperventilating with panic and revulsion. Chad just smirked, watching Luke's face balloon outward obscenely, eyes squeezing shut as Luke's cheeks expanded into a set of soft globes that continued to grow and round out. Luke whimpered, trying to pull away but finding his movements sluggish and uncoordinated.

"Ooh yes, grab my big juicy ass! I've missed this so much!"

"Fuck…" Chad moaned, reaching back to grope and knead Luke's swelling cheeks.

As Chad groped his cheeks and the twink's voice echoed in his head, realization hit him. And it hit him hard. The doughy, plumping flesh Chad was gleefully groping and slapping…

"Yesss, more! Grab my tight juicy ass, spank it, wreck it!" The slutty little fucktoy squealed in ecstasy, bucking its hips to grind against Chad's groping hands.

Through the haze of shame and revulsion, pieces clicked into place for Luke.

"I'm... no... no, no, no..." Deny it as much as he wanted, Luke knew. He was becoming the jiggly bubble butt of a desperate, cock-hungry slut, "No no no this can't be happening!"

Luke wailed internally as he felt his features blurring and melting, reforming into the heart-shaped curves of a prime piece of twink ass. His puckered lips stretched wide and ready. His nose and mouth compressed into a puckered, twitching asshole. He could feel his uvula shifting, becoming nothing more than the twink's new prostate. And suddenly, Chad was thrusting again- his massive cock slamming into Luke.

"Help me Tommy, please!" He begged silently, praying his boyfriend could somehow reverse this nightmare transformation.

"Ohhh fuuuck yes, look at those cheeks bounce!" Chad groaned, gripping the plush globes that had once been Luke's face and spreading them wide.

"No… please…" Luke remembered doing the same to Tommy's ass during their lovemaking, but now...

Through it all, Tommy's concerned voice echoed in what was left of Luke's mind, "I'm so sorry babe, I never meant for this to happen to you! Please, it's going to be okay…"

"Mmmph! Ooh yes, spank me harder!"

The twink's voice squealed in delight as Chad delivered stinging slaps to the plump cheeks. Luke recoiled, feeling his cheeks vibrate. Only able to clench around the thick cock splitting him open.

"Aww yeah, take it you fucking slut!" Chad growled, punctuating each word with a sharp smack to the jiggling cheeks.

Luke shuddered and clenched around the invading shaft. His mind spun, trying desperately to grapple with his new predicament. But he couldn't. How could he?

"Is this all I am now?"

"No Luke, please don't think like that!" Tommy's voice rang out in their shared mental link.

But even as Tommy spoke, Luke's mind was breaking. His memories of weightlifting, of holding Tommy close, of planning their future together. Reconciling the man he was with what he'd become...

"Yes, yes! Ruin my holes!" The twink's voice keened, higher and more needy with each thrust. "Fuck me harder, make me your cock sleeve!"

"I'm just a hole…"

"No no NO! Luke, what are you saying?" Tommy mentally sobbed.

But it was too late. Luke's psyche crumpled under the weight of his transformation, unable to reconcile the strong, proud man he'd been with this slutty twink's cock-hungry ass that he'd become. It was simpler, easier, to just…let go. To surrender to the role fate had assigned him.

"Yes, yes! Wreck my holes!" The twink's voice shrieked in ecstasy, lost in the throes of depraved pleasure. "Fuck me harder, ruin me for anyone else!"

With a roar of triumph, Chad hilted himself fully inside the plump cheeks, painting its insides white with him cum. In that moment of pure, overwhelming bliss, the tenuous mental link between Luke and Tommy shattered. As Chad slowly pulled out with a wet squelch, a flood of cum poured out of the twink's gaping, twitching hole.

___

As the weeks dragged on, one thing remained constant - the relentless pounding of Chad's massive cock into the twink's eager, jiggly ass. The muscular jock used his new fucktoy daily, sometimes multiple times a day, working the plush cheeks raw with his thick shaft. Luke, once a proud top and caring boyfriend, now reduced to a pair of fucked-out cheeks, existed only to serve Chad's massive cock.

And in those moments when Tommy would be forced to invade Luke, his pleas would echo in the fractured remnants of Luke's psyche.

"Luke, please… I know you're still in there somewhere." But the responses, when they came at all, were hollow and distant.

"Just his ass…" The words repeated like a mantra, a broken record spinning in the void where Luke's identity had once resided. There was no recognition of his former self, no willingness to accept he'd been anything different.

[possessionsyeahman]