21wanderer

[21wanderer]

"Alternate ending" - The Wild One

There was unease in Wrightsville - since the biker gang the Black Rebels Motorcycle Club (BRMC) had driven into the sleepy Californian town, the townsfolk had been concerned and worried what trouble this large group of disaffected youths could cause in their normally peaceful place.

The bikers were led by Johnny Strabler, a young man of few words, but revered by his gang. A rebel without a cause. Strong, cool, confident and untouchable - or so he thought.

Having caused commotion at a motorcycle rally in Carbonville, the BRMC had moved on to stir up trouble somewhere else - that eventually led them to Wrightsville. One might think that one knows how this story ends… But this time it's different. ---

It was only about 1 o'clock in the afternoon on the day of BRMC's arrival, when the elderly Chief Harry Bleeker, the only police officer in the sleepy town, entered the Wrightsville pharmacy.

The bell rang like always, but nothing felt normal today, the boisterous gang had only been here for a couple of hours, but it felt like days and the whole town was nervous. This included Chief Bleeker, who now felt like he was on the toughest assignment of his career.

"Hey Doc." Chief Bleeker greeted the pharmacist. Though he wasn't a doctor, he was very knowledgeable in medicine and biochemistry, thus everybody in town referred to him as 'Doc'.

"Hey Chief." Doc replied.

"I need something for my nerves." Bleeker said trying to hide his nervousness.

"Got something right here for ya, Chief." Doc said, almost as if he had expected Bleeker to ask.

Doc attempted to hand Chief Bleeker the bottle, but Bleeker declined with a hand gesture.

"Please give a glass of water, I'll be takin' 'em straight away." Bleeker muttered.

Doc went to get a glass of water for the Bleeker, who opened the pill bottle pouring two pills into his hand, before he put the bottle back on the countertop.

"Seems like our loud and rowdy visitors have done a number on ya, Chief." Doc said as Bleeker swallowed the pills followed by the water.

"Yes…" Bleeker replied glumly, his grip tightened on the empty glass, "never in my time, had I thought that I would end up in situation like this…"

Doc put the pill bottle back behind the counter, not responding to Bleeker's plight.

Bleeker sighed.

"It's like sitting on a tickin' time-bomb. Everyone's on edge - not that I blame 'em - if the situation somehow escalates, I don't think I can handle it."

"Yeah, I don't envy you." Doc replied, resting at the counter looking over Bleeker's shoulder to look through the window facing the street. "It's the calm before the storm, but they are like nomads-"

"Nomads?! 'Locusts' is more like it. If I don't put my foot down, we risk that these hooligans start feeling at home… I've heard of other towns, where that happened… I really don't wanna see that here."

He paused, but when Doc didn't respond he continued:

"Kleiner noticed that I hesitated to act, when those hoodlums made him crash his car. And I think they noticed too."

Bleeker sighed again.

"If I was smart I would be skipping town just like you, Doc."

Doc wasn't pleased with Bleeker's insinuation.

"You know very well, Chief, that I am not 'skipping' town for at least another 3 months. So I will have to live through this, just like the rest of you."

There was a long pause. It almost felt peaceful in contrast to what might be happening on Wrightsville's streets...

Chief Bleeker, lost in thought, began speaking again, Doc was confused at first, but he quickly figured that Bleeker was in a train of thought, now saying it aloud:

"It's their leader Johnny - Johnny Strabler, he strides around the town like he owns it, and his men follow him around like puppy-dogs. He doesn't say much, but he radiates an attitude - I don't know what to call it - a dominance, that makes his crew follow him without question, they're wrapped around his finger."

"Hmmm..." Doc said, breaking the officer's flow of thinking and made him look at him, "listen Chief, I may be able to help you... But it may be a little 'drastic'."

"The situation seems to call for it," Bleeker replied, "but thank you, if you can help in any way, it'll be appreciated."

"Very well, then listen very carefully…"

---

Bleeker left Doc's pharmacy twenty minutes later, and it didn't take long, before he was forced into action against the rebellious youths. A brawl had broken out, outside Bleeker's brother, Frank's, café.

Some townsfolk had already intervened, having incapacitated a biker, who looked like he'd already had way too much, and struggled to get out of the grip of the town's mechanic, while still trying to stand up straight.

"We'll be taking this punk to the cell, Chief," the mechanic said, and headed towards the police station.

Chief Bleeker was forced to step between the mechanic and the biker gang members present trying to calm them down, fortunately it was only a handful - for now.

It didn't however take long, before the BRMC had gathered outside the police station, yelling and screaming, really trying to escalate the situation. Bleeker did his best to stay calm, but he was nervous, and he knew the biker gang could tell.

"Look - I've told you already, your friend is NOT under arrest, he's only in the drunk tank to sleep it off. Once he has sobered up, he'll be free to leave (just like the rest of you)."

Bleeker returned to his office, uncertain if he had actually improved the situation and managed to calm down the rowdy crowd outside. As long as they stayed outside, that would be a good sign at least - unless they started causing chaos elsewhere…

It seemed inevitable, that something bad would happen, soon, very soon - a single spark igniting the powder barrel, and if he was to prevent it… He had to reflect on Doc's proposition. ---

A couple of hours later, Chief Bleeker walked back outside, the crowd was still there, but they seemed to have dispersed a bit. Bleeker pulled together all the courage he could muster, before loudly and clearly addressing Johnny.

"Johnny? Will you please come into the station and pick up your friend, please?" Bleeker tried to sound both authoritative, but also polite at the same time, not knowing if he was successful at either. Johnny didn't say a word, he just raised his eyebrows, and began to walk towards Bleeker, the crew followed his movement. "J-Just Johnny please," Bleeker said trying not to stammer. Johnny turned his head, looking at his gang, then with that smooth and cool voice, he simply said: "Alright, I'll take care of it, guys," and followed Bleeker inside.

Once the doors was firmly closed behind him, Bleeker turned to Johnny, gesturing him towards his office. "Johnny, can I talk with you privately for just a minute, please?" Johnny was silent, but the silence spoke volumes - he was confident and in full charge of the situation, a lone 'octogenarian' cop was no threat to him, so he might as well humour that old geezer, not that anything he could say to him would change anything.

As soon as they were inside, Bleeker took his chance and jabbed a syringe with a clear liquid into Johnny's neck. Johnny instinctively reached for it, but collapsed on the floor, his body convulsing, Bleeker fell down alongside him, holding the syringe firmly in his hand, making sure it was emptied inside Johnny's neck.

When he was sure the syringe was empty, Bleeker managed to get back on his feet, exchanging a final gaze with Johnny, who looked at him with the strongest contempt in his eyes, before his head collapsed, hitting the floor.

Bleeker stood still in the office, still holding the empty syringe in his hand. The unconscious Johnny seemed to slowly shrink, as a visible vapour left every orifice of the youth's body. Carefully Bleeker pushes Johnny's over with his foot making it face upwards. Despite that Doc had told exactly what would happen, Bleeker was still disturbed by the sight, but it also filled him with awe.

Johnny's insides were clearly gone, no bones, no organs, not even his eyes, which were now just empty holes. But his skin remained, stretchy and flexible - and able to be worn. With shaking hands Bleeker undressed what remained of Johnny, discarding all the biker gang leader's clothes in a pile.

He held up the skin amazed at the result. This is crazy, Doc, he thought. Running a hand through the Johnny's hair and over the face, that felt like a deflated balloon, Bleeker flipped the skin over, so he could enter through the mouth as Doc had instructed.

It was a bizarre, yet exhilarating experience. Getting his feet in place was difficult with his aching back, but he had no intention to stop. Taking Johnny's body for himself was a drastic move, but desperate times calls for desperate measures. Sliding the skin upwards his frail legs felt stronger and grounded, once they were covered by Johnny's.

Excitedly Bleeker looked down at his new manhood, it was erect and pulsing with vitality, he had lost long ago. How many girls (and guys) must have felt this? he thought as he stroked it. Not enough, a wicked thought said in the back of his head.

Pulling the skin further up, Bleeker's wrinkled and sun-worn skin was replaced by Johnny's smooth and youthful. There were bruises and scars, for sure, but Johnny was a fighter and had probably been in countless bar brawls and fistfights before. He felt his new abs, there was no denying, that this guy was strong, Bleeker had a feeling that if Johnny got into a fight, he'd always win, maybe then it's only fitting, that his muscles serve me now, Bleeker thought, given that I bested him.

Bleeker thrust down his hand into Johnny's throat and into his smooth, muscular arms. Once it was firmly in place, he twisted and stretched it, feeling an unfamiliar strength, that now worked for him. He flexed, and it responded flawlessly. The other arm followed suit - and Bleeker was now only moments away from a new existence.

Stretching Johnny's mouth a final time, so it could fit over his head. Bleeker completed the transformation. Bleeker massaged Johnny's face and it all fell into place. He felt a jolt of energy causing through his entire body, and he opened his eyes, Johnny's eyes. Looking down himself there was no doubt that it was a complete success, this body was his.

He ran a hand over his impressive new chest, feeling the heat and the smooth, soft chest hair under his fingers. 'Johnny' looked at the clock, realising how much time had passed. He'd need to get going before the gang, his gang, stormed the station.

'Johnny' slipped on his underwear, his jeans, his socks and stepped into his solid motorcycle boots. He pulled the sweaty t-shirt over his head, pleased with how he recognised the smell as his own. He put on Johnny's hat, before setting his sight on Johnny's leather biker jacket. It was Johnny's crown, the very garment, that told the world who he was, and what he represented.

Mine, was all that Bleeker could think as he picked up the jacket, this is going to look so good on me. The leather creaked as Bleeker claimed Johnny's jacket as his own, pushing his rejuvenated arms into its sleeves. There was a very devilish satisfaction in buckling the belt, then slowly zipping the zipper to his chest. Bleeker smiled as he looked down at the "Johnny", his new name, written on the jacket, just above the heart. Mine.

Bleeker caught his reflection in a mirror and grinned, his new reflection - young, strong, confident, handsome, respected, uncontested, feared - and the epitome of cool.

"Yeah," Bleeker said with the youth's smooth silky voice, he flexed a leather-clad arm, it still responded flawlessly "I could get used to this." He grabbed his keys and with a confident swagger walked towards the drunk tank, where a slightly groggy gang member was lying. Bleeker unlocked the door, the rattling metal caused the biker to look up at Johnny. Bleeker smirked, he knew that Johnny would have done the same, no words needed.

Outside the police station it looked like all the BRMC members had gathered, waiting for Johnny and their buddy. "Alright!" 'Johnny' said firmly, looking at the crowd. It was a completely different experience. The gang looked at him with respect and admiration, almost reverence.

"We're outta here!"

He didn't have to say anything else. They would follow him without question. It was a power and respect that Bleeker hadn't felt in decades - if ever. 'Johnny' made his way through the crowd and they followed him like an entourage back to where their motorcycles were parked. 'Johnny' smirked at the sight of Johnny's motorcycle. Johnny didn't show much emotion, but Bleeker was very excited as he mounted Johnny's bike, his bike, but he hid that excitement behind Johnny's cool demeanour - his cool demeanour.

'Johnny' revved the engine, feeling a surge of adrenaline and youth, he hadn't felt in eons. He slipped on Johnny's sunglasses with a faint smile, then he took off - and the gang followed him.

'Johnny' had led the gang out of Wrightsville, he didn't know where he would lead them, but he knew that he had an undeniable power over them, they were his gang now, and they would follow his rules. And if there was ever any sign of dissent, Johnny had several more of Doc's syringes stored safely inside the pocket of his biker jacket. Maybe he could turn some of these delinquent youths into more 'productive members of society' - but for now, he was the Wild One.

[21wanderer]

Buyer's remorse?

You froze when you saw the transaction on your bank account. It was ten times as much as you'd thought. Frantically you look through your mailbox looking for the invoice, but to your horror you discover, that the same ludicrous amount is written there. All you wanted was a good-quality Spiderman suit, just for a bit of escapism, but now you were almost broke. Looking over the invoice again you finally realise the mistake - it said Spiderman Suit Deluxe. You don't remember choosing a Deluxe, and now that little word had cost you a minor fortune.

Finally you calmed yourself, telling yourself it's going to be alright. You get the package, then just use the return label and get your money back. It took excruciatingly long for the package to arrive, the webshop had no phone number nor chat function, only an e-mail address, and though you wrote multiple mails explaining your situation and the obvious mistake, you received no answer. You feared that you had been duped.

Then finally three weeks later, the package arrived. Getting it home from the package shop was an ordeal, as the package was much bigger, heavier and unwieldy than you expected, and yet you still felt the concern of being scammed, the thought of the box containing some cheap - or in this case - expensive knock-off.

You carefully opened the box, being extremely cautious, trying to make sure that you didn't bruise or dent the box or its content the slightest. There it was the iconic red-and blue suit… the white-eyed mask, the intricate black web-pattern. It wasn't just a cheap knock-off, this could pass for the real thing. The fanboy in you really wanted to put it on, but your common sense said 'no' - any sign of use and the suit might be unreturnable.

There was no visible delivery note on top of the costume, so you carefully began to pick up the pieces and place them gently on the floor, making an internal note of which order they would have to be put back in. As you removed the components of the Deluxe-Spiderman suit looking for the delivery note, you began to wonder how this suit alone could justify such a big box, once you removed the suit itself from what you assumed was the last piece, you expected to find a ton of packaging peanuts filling half the box, but no, it was something else.

Your jaw dropped as a flesh-coloured mass revealed itself, at first you couldn't comprehend what you were looking at, but then you realised they were synthetic body pieces. There was a torso with arms, a pair of legs, feet, hands… and a face - Tom Holland's face. So this is what made the costume 'deluxe'.

As you picked up the pieces of the body, you forgot everything about the hefty price tag, this was way more than you have ever dreamed of. You could be the actual Spider-man, you could be the actual Tom Holland in the role of Spiderman. You found the delivery note at the bottom of the box, but that somehow seemed completely irrelevant now. You stretched one of the hands/gloves, it looked like skin, it felt like skin, it even smelled faintly human.

With an unparalleled eagerness and excitement you undressed, you held up the sculpted torso in front of you, still amazed at the detail, still beyond belief of how this could be real. You pushed your head through the opening at the neck, then pushed your arms through the sleeves, it was just like putting on a shirt, except this was something far more than that. You adjusted the shoulders and made sure they were in place, and marvelled at the result. You got Tom's tight pecs and athletic arms, you place a hand on your new stomach feeling the abs beneath the synthetic skin.

Having had a taste of what you could have only left you hungry for more - you felt insatiable and wanted it all. You slid on the legs like a pair of tight leggings, except padded with lean muscles, soon enough your lower half was covered with Tom's strong legs. Grinning you put on the hands like they were regular gloves. They slid right over your own hands and within moments they felt like they were. You stretched and flexed your new fingers, rubbing your face, your new pecs and abs. They felt real, looked real, right down to the fingerprints, which you imagined were identical to the real Tom's - everything else seemed to be.

You put the feet on like a pair of toe socks, pushing each toe into place and wiggling them as they stretched over your own. With the feet perfectly in place, you stand up to get a better look at your new body. You look astonished at yourself in the mirror, the face still your own, but the rest of your body unmistakably Tom's - athletic, smooth, lean and all yours. You pick up the Tom Holland mask, so incredibly life-like, from the lush hair to the soft cheeks and the strong chin, you almost lost yourself in thought, maybe you could just keep this on - permanently. Out of the corner of you eye, you notice a little tub at the bottom of box, you put down the Tom mask.

You read the label of the little container and opened it to reveal a bright pink substance, it was a sealant, to cover the seams of the suit, effectively fusing them together. Without hesitation you dipped your fingers into the thick pink goo and immediately applied it to your wrists and ankles, the bright colour faded soon after, the seems that before were near-invisible were now completely gone. With a delighted smile on your face, you apply the sealant to the seam at your waist. The bright colour faded again, taking a natural skin tone, and you felt the skin tighten, the seam was gone. With the replica Tom-body under your command and firmly attached, you slip on the mask.

The face snapped into place, and you stepped in front of the mirror. It was unmistakably Tom staring back at you, every facial feature flawless and indistinguishable from the real one . You lost track of time exploring every inch of your new body, and you've already decided, this was simply too good. You pulled on a pair of underpants, letting go of the elastic with a pleasing snap.

You put on the Spiderman suit, though it almost feels almost secondary now. You're already wearing a "Spiderman-suit" and this one, you are never taking off - however this is the true fanboy dream, you aren't just the character, but also the actor who brings it to life.

With expected ease you slip on the Spiderman-costume, it was tailored to perfectly fit Tom's/your body, and it did. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, brimming with confidence, looking like a hero, feeling like a hero, having the body of a hero.

Before you slipped on the second mask, completing your costume, you glanced over at the little tub of sealant on the table and chuckled, knowing there was still a handful left. You had a feeling, that in the very near future, you'd be applying it to your neck, making the fantasy complete.

And soon enough you did. The mask sealed in place. Tom's body and face were yours, and you're never going back.

[21wanderer]

Secrets (Part 4 of 4)

Part 1 - The Prelude

Part 2 - The First Project

Part 3 - The Second Project

Almost half a year had passed before I dared making the last BodyPlast suit. I had been lying low for a while, but Easter was approaching and soon exam season was upon us, so time was rapidly running out, and I still had one last classmate on my checklist.

Martin - and he was definitely worth the wait. He had really been hitting the weights lately, and his bulk increased - he was almost as big as Lucas, and I was as envious as ever. Envy - my constant companion.

Another spiked drink, another classmate collapsing - and once again I volunteered to take my unfortunate classmate home. I told myself, this would be the last time, one last suit.

Martin was out like a light, but he was heavy, if not heavier than Lucas, and I for certain hadn't been hitting the gym. I managed to get him position on the strewn newspapers. As he laid on the floor I began to paint him using the last remaining of the first can of BodyPlast. I wanted to test the limit of this stuff, so unlike before I painted his entire body from head to toe, then I waited.

Slowly but surely the colour faded and Martin was back in his glory. No traces of the coating that I had applied to the whole body. I struggled trying to find an edge at his lips that I could start peeling from, and I started panicking, frantically trying to get the suit off. Finally I managed to get hold of something, and I could begin stretching the shell of BodyPlast from its host. I couldn't help, but thinking of an animal shedding its skin, as I peeled off the replica of Martin, and once I got his head free the rest was easy. His strong neck, wide shoulders, smooth and built chest and arms and so forth, losing their definition as I pulled the shed skin off, before returning to their former glory as his real skin was revealed underneath. With a final *pop* at his feet, I had released the skin, and while I was very satisfied with my previous creations, this one was even more impressive. It was like a deflated balloon of Martin, twisted grotesquely, but still recognisable, I could only imagine, what it would feel like to wear this. I couldn't afford to waste anymore time, the process had taken longer than I anticipated, and the longer I waited, the higher the chance of something going wrong.

Martin had moved out, so there was nobody at his place to confront/greet me - in my head I had an idea of putting on the Martin-suit straight away, slip on all that nice smooth muscle and his handsome face, as well as putting on his clothes and pretend to be him. I could imagine myself being pulled over as I drove and present myself as Martin, with his license and everything, and the real Martin playing the role of my drunk twin brother. But it was too risky, so many things I had done had been risky and if I kept tempting fate, then at some point...

I folded the Martin-skin neatly and placed it on the back seat, before redressing Martin in his clothes and dragging his unconscious body to the passenger seat. I couldn't stop thinking of carrying out the scenario I had imagined, just slip on the suit straight away and pretend to be Martin, it seemed so easy and yet I couldn't get myself to go through with it.

Fifteen minutes later I let myself into Martin's apartment, it was pretty unremarkable in every way, but I supposed it was to be expected since he hadn't lived here for long. I imagined a different scenario, where I simply took Martin's place, his life, his appearance, everything that was him, wearing the BodyPlast version of him permanently. Thinking of having his face, his muscles, his... aura.

Having placed Martin on his sofa, I stood as if I was alone, I made a decision. I rushed down to the car, and picked up the skinsuit and stashed it in my backpack before returning to Martin's apartment. I stripped and began to pull on the Martin suit, entering through the mouth. It was much easier to get on, compared to getting it off Martin before, so that was at least of perk of being small... for now. I replaced my skinny frame with Martin's muscles, his sculpted features superseding my own. I plunged my arms down the suit's mouth and into Martin's strong arms. I finished the transformation as I stretched the mouth one final time, pulling it over my head. The result was impeccable, I could pass for Martin's twin... or Martin himself. Seeing myself in Martin's mirror, I couldn't contain myself and I ended up climaxing right on the floor of his living room.

As if Martin's personality had also awoken within me, his confidence and cool, I didn't feel nervous or worried anymore, I couldn't be bothered to clean up that stain, and by the time Martin would wake up, it would probably have dried up. I walked over to Martin placing my identical face down by his neck and took a deep breath, inhaling his smell. The same scent that clung to this skin, it was intoxicating. I threw a blanket over Martin and began to redress in my own clothes, the pants were very tight on my bigger legs, but I managed, the shirt was a problem however, but I decided to be resourceful if not daring. I found Martin's laundry bag in his bathroom, rummaging around before pulling out a sweaty long-sleeved shirt, that I, without hesitation, pulled over my head, loving how it stuck to my artificial arms and torso. Now that I looked the part, I couldn't resist the temptation of pulling Martin's wallet out of his pocket, after all I was going to need his license to get home.

I left the apartment, snapping a few pictures of my new body. Nobody would know it wasn't the real Martin...

And by Monday I would return his shirt and his wallet. The wallet had fallen out of his pocket, when I brought him home, and I had borrowed his shirt as he accidentally threw up on me - that's what I would be telling him, it would probably be for the best.

---

Fortunately my parents let me sleep undisturbed, so I kept on the Martin-skin, but once I awoke, I had to take it off and stash it away, and go back to be boring old Damien, keeping my secret guarded - and I truly thought that I had nothing to worry about, but a couple of days later my father wanted to speak to me...

“Damien, we need to talk,” said my father, his tone was very serious, and the whole ‘we need to talk’ wasn’t something I had ever heard him saying before. Dad sat down on my bed and looked at me with a stern face, “Damien, I know you stole the BodyPlast from the hospital.”

I flinched… He knew, how long had he known?… “Why did you do it?” he asked, there was an undeniable disappointment in his voice.

Having my secret exposed, I decided there was no point in lying, I might as well be honest.

“I’ve been using it on my classmates.”

“Why?!” my father said clearly shocked, “they are your friends, why would you do that?”

My father’s words really stung, though he probably wasn’t aware of how much they did, having had my secret exposed was mortifying enough, my voice began trembling as I answered.

“Friends?!” I said trying to hide being upset, “They were never my friends.”

My father’s face changed from shock to concern, which made me feel a bit better. It seemed like he understood.

“I thought things were going much better socially, you were popular, you were spending more time with them, going to all the parties – even coming home late at night.”

“It was all just a facade, so that I could get away with it… Earn their trust and not to arouse any suspicion.”

My father said nothing, he just looked at me with something I assumed was sympathy, so I continued my rant.

“To them I was merely an asset, I was useful. I only got all that attention, because I was the first in my class with a license, I could drive them places, be it drive-ins, the city or home after they had drunk their brains out. I was their chauffeur, their designated driver, that’s all. I’m not saying I was being excluded or bullied or anything, but I’m just not like the others… And despite all the attention I’ve gotten, it still doesn’t change that I don’t see them as friends, they are just my classmates, acquaintances if you would prefer a different term…”

My father remained silent, he clearly was going through some strong emotions too, struggling to put them into words. I hadn’t seen him like that before, it almost felt like, he thought he had failed as a father for not noticing my discontentment sooner.

“I see,” was the first thing my father said after a long pause, it took him some time before he continued, “how did you do it? I don’t suppose they volunteered for it.”

“I put something in their drinks,” I admitted, saying it out loud made me feel very ashamed.

“That’s very irresponsible, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?!”

“I know, but you have taught me of how to dose sleeping pills, and I only gave them a very small dose, I never hurt any of them, I just needed them to be passed out long enough for me to…”

I hesitated, I probably shouldn’t go into more detail, I think he got the picture; “and none of them suffered any side effects.”

“You couldn’t have known that, you can’t just-”

“I know, I know, it was wrong and I’m sorry, but what’s done is done.”

“And what did you do with them?”

I went over to my closet and opened it, then I pulled out the three skinsuits, placing them all on the bed for my father to see. He was breath-taken and shocked as he looked at the display.

“You made three?”

I nodded.

“Have you- have you worn them?”

“Not really, no, a few times at home, but not for long, I couldn’t risk you or mom walking in on me. And it’s not exactly like I can go outside wearing them, I’d risk running into someone, who knows them, or even worse – run into one of them. But I really wish I could have… trying to be someone else, if only briefly.”

My father seemed lost in thought, then he resolutely got up and looked straight at me, “then pack your bags, you and I are going on a little road trip.”

I couldn’t believe his reaction, it was a relief.

[21wanderer]

Secrets (Part 3 of 4)

Part 1 - The Prelude

Part 2 - The First Project The new week started, and I was back at school, everything seemingly like the week before.

"Hey Damien, thanks for driving me home from the party," Lucas said completely oblivious. I smiled innocently, trying to hide my feeling of guilt, but Lucas seemed to be completely unaware of the whole thing, so it seemed like I could relax. "It was no big deal," I replied. "Yeah, I'm not exactly sure what happened, usually I can handle it… Maybe I didn't eat enough that evening or trained too much the day before, but anyway, thanks for being there," Lucas responded and went back to his seat. As my gaze followed him as he got back to his chair and continued to joke around with some of the others, I couldn't help feeling… something, excitement?

I envied Lucas and his body, but the very fact, that I had a copy of his skin, stashed away at home was surreal, if not outright unbelievable. I could look like him if I wanted - I really could. And looking around at my classmates… I could become any of them too… and honestly, I was quite eager to play around some more with the BodyPlast, and I already knew who to use it on.

Still for the time being I had to lie low - I wouldn't risk arousing too much suspicion, and I probably would, if I drove a new unconscious guy home every weekend. There was still a whole school year in front of me, but this was the last one, so by the end of next summer I had to be done. I couldn't believe I was trying to rationalise this, and yet here I was. The Lucas-suit had been stashed away in my room, I hadn't dared to wear it for the fear of my parents walking in on me, it remained hidden and secret, but soon it would get company.

I had waited three months before I attempted making my second suit; Kevin.

Kevin had dyed his hair striking platinum blonde, and while it did suit him, I didn't want my BodyPlast replica having that hair colour, fortunately by the time I dared taking action his hair had almost reverted to its original dirty blonde.

Guilt-ridden I watched Kevin slowly collapse, and once more I could present myself as the reliable and responsible designated driver, and shortly after I had brought Kevin to my house, had him stripped and laid on the floor so I could add the miraculous mixture.

This time I coated the entire body with the exception of the head. The vibrant pink colour began to fade as I waited, holding my breath. Kevin was not as muscular or athletic as Lucas, but his body was still toned, and I marvelled as the BodyPlast took his exact appearance. Peeling off the suit was surprisingly easy, I could stretch the area by the neck wide enough to get both Kevin's shoulders free at once. It was almost like a wetsuit, and I was at a loss for words, when the skin slid off his feet and I held it up in front of me. But I wasn't quite done yet, carefully I painted Kevin's face with the BodyPlast and dipped his hair in it. In fifteen minutes I had a perfect imitation of Kevin's face.

Checking the time, and carefully listening for any footsteps from outside, I began to tidy up, I needed to get rid of my equipment, the BodyPlast skin and get the real Kevin dressed and home safely. The rushing frustrated me, but the more time I spent, the higher the chance of something going wrong. Once I had Kevin delivered to his parents' apartment, I headed down the stairs. But just before I exited the building and wandered back into the night, I stuck my hand in my pocket and pulled out the freshly made Kevin mask and slipped it on.

[21wanderer]

Secrets (Part 2 of 4)

Part 1 - Prelude

I had meticulously planned everything for the party. And though I had doubts I kept assuring myself, that my actions were harmless, and as long as nobody found out, then…

I shuddered at the thought, that I was really going through with this… but I had to try. The party was as big a disappointment for me as expected, I was a fish out of water, and though I knew these people and they were delighted to have me, I still felt like a stranger and outsider, but I had to play along.

"Hey bud! You having fun?"

My classmate Lucas smirked at me, before placing his hand attached to his impressive, muscular arm on my shoulder with such a force, that I was almost knocked over. Lucas was a real golden boy, everything I wasn't - muscular, confident, handsome, popular and being obsessed with fitness. He was everything I wanted to be - and thanks to the BodyPlast, I could.

Lucas cheery mood and exaggerated gestures told me, that he had already had a beer or two… or eight. I just added some carefully measured crushed sleeping pills into his drink, then I just needed to wait.

Eventually, five minutes past midnight, Lucas collapsed, though that didn't exactly make the party stop. My classmates laughed and joked that Lucas couldn't handle his alcohol - but I knew the truth…

Acting responsible, I made my way over to my unconscious classmate, "I better take him home," I said, trying to sound determined and loud enough to make people hear me over the music.

Though there were initial protests, I eventually managed to make them let me leave the party with Lucas hanging over my shoulder. I said my goodbyes and stuffed him in on the backseat of my dad's car.

---

Relieved of finally being away from the noise and the obnoxiousness, I had to be quick… I drove as quickly as possible, though staying within the speed limit to get home. In the garage I had everything prepared; a can of BodyPlast, several paintbrushes and newspapers strewn across the floor to catch any excess.

Dragging the unconscious Lucas into position was difficult, he was heavy and I was a twink - I wish I had his muscles - that would definitely have made this a lot easier.

As breathtaking as Lucas' body was, I needed to get started, we couldn't stay here all-night. I popped open one of the cans of BodyPlast, the thick pink liquid ready to be applied.

I stripped Lucas, then I began to paint his body. I began with his lower body, feet, legs and genetalia. After the usual fifteen minutes, I pulled the BodyPlast off like a pair of leggings. It was an impressive result, incredibly detailed and lifelike. But I did not have the time to marvel, I needed to continue, my eyes were beginning to itch, I wasn't used to being up so late. I began to paint his torso, his impressive muscular torso... I really need to push myself to focus, not to get completely stunned by Lucas' enviable physique. Soon enough his entire torso, shoulder, arms and even his head was covered with the pink goo. Having to flip him over was a struggle, but the result was even and promising.

I held my breath as the pink colour began to fade, Lucas looked like himself again, the BodyPlast indistinguishable from real skin. I found an edge and successfully pealed the upper body off. With a satisfying pop the BodyPlast came off, and I stood with a perfect copy of Lucas' skin.

In my mind, I imagined slipping on both Lucas' torso and his legs, then applying some BodyPlast at the seems to seal myself in permanently. The thought was exhilarating and arousing... Someday, I thought, but not today.

Having stashed all the equipment and new creations away and having redressed Lucas, I managed to get him back in the car. It was time for him to go home. I had no idea how late it was. ---

“Hi Mrs. Thomson, I brought Lucas home,” I said with a smile, as Lucas' mother opened the door. “Goodness,” Mrs. Thompson said as she laid eyes on her son, who hung on my shoulder, “Is he really that drunk?” “Yeah,” I answered faking sincerity, “he had a bit too much, so I thought it was a good idea to drive him home to sleep it off.” “That’s very thoughtful of you, Damien,” Mrs. Thomson said, as I dragged the unconscious Lucas inside. Mrs. Thomson showed me to Lucas' room and I dumped him on his bed, he’d probably stay like this until midday. I could hear Lucas' mother rummaging in the next room, so I was alone in Lucas' bedroom.

Looking at Lucas, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, he was just a drunk teen, who've had a bit too much... and I was the kindly soul, who had helped him home. As I headed for the door, I couldn't help to take note of some of Lucas' laundry lying on the floor... and I just couldn't resist - the room was a bit of a mess anyway, so he probably wouldn't notice if a used undershirt and a pair of briefs disappeared. As tempting as it was, and as much as I would have liked to swipe his entire wardrobe, I stuck with the two pieces of sweaty underwear and stuff them inside my jacket.

As I made my way out the house, Mrs. Thomson met me at the door. She handed me a chocolate bar, "Here," she said, "thank you for bringing Lucas home safely Damien, I will go to bed now." "Thank you," I replied, "and it was no problem, Good night Mrs. Thomson," I finished as I left the house and the door shut behind me. Now I could finally breathe, the high that I had been on for the last couple of hours had finally begun to wear off. In the car laid the two-piece suit I had made of Lucas. Did I dare to put it on? It was extremely tempting, but I had to admit, that I was feeling fatigued.

Back at the car I took a moment to behold my work. Lucas flawless skin, perfect physique, even his hair and smell was perfectly replicated, though it was only a lifeless husk, at some point it would be brought to life. And I still had plenty of BodyPlast waiting back home.

[21wanderer]

Secrets (Part 1 of 4) - Prelude

Originally an excerpt made for a writing challenge, after some encouragement to expand it, I have completed the story and broken it into four parts.

Being the oldest in your class wasn’t noteworthy, at least not most of the time, if you didn’t know, you wouldn’t have guessed that I was the oldest in my class, I was small and skinny, tall, but not as tall as half of my classmates. But being the first to turn 18 gave me some attention all of a sudden… Especially when I was the first in my class with a driver’s license, then my usually non-existing popularity soared.

I could borrow one of my parents’ cars quite frequently, and it did make me quite coveted in my class, both the guys and the girls thought it was pretty cool, now I could drive them places… It was nice to get the attention, it was nice to feel unique and special… But again it probably wouldn’t last forever, after all, they were going to turn 18 soon enough, and then they could start doing the same, and I could fade back into obscurity.

“Are you coming to the party, Dam?” asked Alice, one of my classmates. “No,” I answered, “you know I don’t drink.” “You don’t have to, quite the opposite actually, Vicky and I were kinda hoping you could drive us home after… Maybe we could go through a drive-in along the way,” Alice said with a wink, “think about it, will you? It would be so great, if you did.”

My class was a party class to say the least, it felt like they were having a party or get-together every week, usually drinking way too much. It was far from the first time I had been invited to the parties, but I always declined, I don’t drink for starters, so I wouldn’t fit in, but Alice’s words got me thinking, although honestly they were both pretty thoughtful as they were inconsiderate. Now they wanted me at their party as their ‘designated driver’, so I could chauffeur them all home after they got wasted.

---

My father works at a hospital in the next town over, he’s a bit of a workaholic, even after an accident that caused him to break his right foot quite badly, he insisted on getting back to work as soon as possible. That meant my mother or I had to drive him to and from work, the plus side being, that I could get to drive more often and gain more experience.

One day, when I came to pick up my father at the hospital, I had a life-changing moment, well, sort of. He wasn’t at the parking garage, but that wasn’t unusual, if he wasn’t here, he was still working. So I entered the hospital, hoping to run into someone, who could guide me in the right direction.

“Hi,” I said to a doctor heading out the double doors to Section 4. “Oh hi Damien, are you here to pick up your father?” she asked. “Yes, have you seen him?” I said, usually it was hassle to locate my father, especially when he was working overtime, when he wasn’t on the parking lot, I had to try and find him in one of the hospital departments, and that wasn’t always an easy task. “Well, he’s doing some work, in the Dermatology department, the storage room, room 417,” she said. “Room 417,” I repeated, “thank you very much.” “You’re welcome,” the doctor said with a smile as she left.

Sure enough I found my father in room 417, a room filled with shelves containing who-knows-what. My father sat at the only computer in the room with his back turned away. “Hi da-” I began, but I almost stumbled over what looked like two large, incredibly visible paint-cans. “Watch where your going, Damien,” dad said as he turned towards me. “Sorry, I didn’t see them,” I said embarrassedly, embarrassed that I could stumble over something so obvious. “Why are those buckets right in front of the door?” I asked. “They need to be disposed of,” my father said. I read the label on the white paint cans, on a pink label with thick black letters, it said: BodyPlast.

It was an unusual name, and I was kinda curious. “What is it?” I asked my father, who resumed his work. “It’s an experimental substance, meant to be used on skin on burn victims and other people with dermatological conditions. It apparently can replicate the exact skin tones and even hair on the skin that it’s applied to, quite remarkable.” “Then why are throwing it out?” “Because the labelling is incorrect.”

“Really? Seems like a waste.”

“Maybe, but it’s a safety standard, a common hospital procedure, we cannot use something on a patient unless we’re 117% sure, we know, what it is. So if the labelling is wrong, we can’t use it.”

The computer monitor went black, and my father got up from his chair, and began gathering the papers on his desk in a stack, “and although it’s quite interesting,” he said, “I’m not quite sure how helpful it’ll be, because if it replicates the skin of those it’s applied to, then it would take the colour of their skin as it is now with burns, scar tissue and so forth, which means that people would have had to apply it before their skin was affected. Then all of a sudden, it doesn’t sound that useful.” He picked up the papers and got up from his chair. “Listen, I just need to hand these sheets over to my colleagues, and give them some instructions. Can you just go back to the car and drive it over to entrance D? and I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” “Ok,” I answered instinctively.

My curiosity was piqued, well more than piqued. This BodyPlast sounded unbelievable, I had a scar on my neck, that I’d like to cover, but there was so much more to it than that. If what my father said was true, I could replicate the skins of others, that prospect lit a fire in me. My father left and went down the hall, I could hear his footsteps, thanks to the boot he wore on his right foot. Not wasting any time, I picked up the buckets, between them was a little folder, which I assumed was the package leaflet, I quickly stuffed it in my pocket, hopefully it would tell me everything I needed to know about BodyPlast. I left the hospital carrying the buckets, nobody noticed, nobody said anything. Once I was at the car I put them in the trunk, and hit them under the blanket, that always stayed in the trunk. I picked up my father by the entrance, and we drove home. My heart was pounding, but I tried to conceal it. Once we were home, I just needed to get the buckets into my room and hide them there. ---

At night, I opened one of the cans with great expectation. It contained a thick, viscous, pink liquid. I dipped a paintbrush into it, then applied a coating to my left arm, just a little bit above the wrist. Then I waited. 15 minutes later the pink colour had faded completely, it was now the exact same colour as my skin, and it was almost unnoticeable. I found an edge, and peeled it off. It was remarkable. The material was incredibly stretchy too – I could stretch incredibly wide, but would resume its original form, when I stopped, still looking perfect. I had to try it again. This time I painted my entire left arm, all the way up to my shoulder, and then I waited again. I peeled it off like a glove, and it looked exactly like my skin, it felt like my skin, even the small hairs were replicated. This was incredible. I slid on the ‘glove’ again, it was surprisingly easy to put on, and the result was flawless. You couldn’t tell, I was wearing an extra layer of skin on my arm. Then it dawned on me, and it was like being hit by a bolt of lightning… With this stuff, I could do almost anything… Or at the very least become anyone. All of a sudden it did feel like a good idea to attend a party.

[21wanderer]

Heard on the street

”…So did he put up a fight?” the guy in blue asked his friend, placing his hand firmly on his companion’s leather-clad shoulder. The guy in the leather jacket chuckled;

”Of course he did, but he underestimated me,” he said as he slid his hand into the tight leather glove and clenched his fist; ”he’s a really tough guy, I think I’m gonna stay in this body for a while.” ”Yeah, I totally get that, he looks really good on you, and I really like the jacket.”

”Thanks,” he replied, adjusting his new jacket a bit.

The guy in the leather jacket then asked his companion: ”How about you? Have you found anything yet?”

”Nah,” the guy in blue replied, ”just been browsing.”

Only a few moments later, the guy in leather elbowed his friend and nodded: ”How about that guy?” he asked his companion.

”Yeah,” he replied tongue-in-cheek, now it was his turn to laugh, ”he could pass for your son,” he added, as he looked eagerly at the young long-haired man in an almost identical biker jacket. ”Heh, I like the sound of that… Then go ahead, I’ll stick around and wait for you. Just make sure you possess him properly, son,” his companion smirked at the last word.

”Yeah, I’ll see you real soon, dad,” the guy in blue said as he moved forward through the crowd.

[21wanderer]

The comeback

Male Transformation: Celebrity swipe: Justin Bieber

It was an uneventful afternoon, and I was walking about the neighbourhood, just getting some fresh air. Who would’ve thought that my life would change so much from something so insignificant?

But as I walked, I came across some minor roadworks, just a few traffic cones and red-and-white tape and a mount of dirt, indicating that some sort of digging was going on here. But as I passed the mount I noticed something shining, reflecting some of the scarce beams of sunlight, as nobody was about I stuck my hand in the pile and found that it was a ring, a really old ring with a black stone in its centre. I don’t know why I did it, but I dusted it off, then slipped it on my finger, then continued my walk.

A few days later I would learn from a local news article, that an archaeological discovery had been made in some roadworks, a very old, yet intricate and well-preserved jewellery box had been found, and the archaeologists were very excited, the only thing they were disappointed about was that it was empty. I recognised the street, and it became obvious to me, that the ring was connected with that box, but I had grown very fond of the ring, having worn it ever since I found it, having only taken it off at night, or to polish it, so I decided not to say anything to anyone, not that that was difficult.

---

Over the next weeks I made some interesting discoveries about the ring, or rather the black stone embedded in it. Besides always being cold and seemingly completely resistant to heat, it had some very peculiar qualities.

On another of my inconspicuous walks, I began to understand its secrets. As I walked I was passed by an athletic guy – really well-trained and running at a pace I would never be able to keep up with.

He was everything I could be, if only I had the dedication to actually start training – and if I enjoyed sports.

I felt a brief streak of envy, and as I did I clenched my fist. I felt a tingling sensation in my hand.

The runner stopped, seemingly to catch his breath, though he just a few moments ago, seemed like he could go on for hours.

All of a sudden I felt a surge of energy, I felt like... I felt like running. I began to walk faster and faster, increasing the speed of my steps till I was actually running. I passed the runner without looking at him, and I just continued to run. And run. And run.

I had never run for that long in my entire life, and I didn't even feel exhausted, when I finally stopped several kilometres away from where I started.

It didn't take long before the pieces fell into place, and I discovered what this ring could do.

It was frightening at first, but I had nothing against giving in to temptation.

I tested the ring a few more times, to see exactly how far it could go, and apparently I discovered no limit - any quality; physical, mental or skill I could take for myself.

It was a discovery unlike any other, I could be whatever or whoever I wanted to be. I wanted to be a star.

I had faith that the ring could carry me all the way to that end-goal, but it just required a few small steps to get there, and I began to plot how to accomplish it. If I could get his skills, I’d be set – his talent for singing, dancing and wooing the crowd.

I bought a concert ticket to one of Justin’s concert, it cost a minor fortune, but if my plan succeeded it would be money well-spent. I just needed a good seat, so he was in my line-of-sight all evening. And that's just what I managed to get, among the screaming crowd, but it was worth it. The concert went exactly as planned.

I clenched my fist, aiming the black stone towards the singer. I felt a tingling sensation throughout my body, a sensation that was more than familiar by now. All of a sudden I could hear the lyrics in my head, before Justin had sung them, I now knew the songs by heart, though I had never heard them before. I suppressed the urge to start singing and dancing, though it was almost irresistible. I kept my eyes on Justin, noticing how he began to seem out-of-sync as the evening progressed - his voice sounded more out-of-tune, his dancing became less expressive and choreographed. It definitely looked like he was slipping up, and as the show progressed, I could hear people whispering in the crowd, it seemed some of them have noticed too, but I kept my eyes fixated on Justin with my clenched fist resting against my chest, as my heart beat in tune with the music, that now felt so familiar.

The concert ended rather abruptly – but it was obvious to most, that the artist wasn’t feeling it. I on the other hand did… I could easily have taken Justin’s place on that scene, slipped on his outfit and given the crowd the show of a lifetime, but that would have to wait.

The day after the concert, it was announced that the tour was being postponed, not surprisingly. I used the opportunity to upload videos, going viral overnight. I could dance like Justin, sing like Justin, perform like Justin – and it wasn’t long before the internet took notice. It went much better than I had expected, I received so much praise for my videos becoming an overnight sensation, and while it felt good to have all this positive attention, I would soon get the exact attention I desired.

---

It was an uneventful afternoon, when the message ticked in. I was shocked, the message was from no other than Justin Bieber himself.

Bieber acknowledged my talent, wrote how it was like seeing a different version of himself, he recognised the sound, the moves and the energy as similar to his own. I grinned, similar? No, identical. Bieber didn’t recognise his own talents.

After having read the whole message, I paused and began to think. Why? Why would Bieber reach out to me?

Obviously it could just be recognition of my talent, which was an amusing, but honest thought, but could there be more to it? He wouldn’t just reach out because of that, there had to be plenty of fans, that could sing like Bieber, dance like Bieber, perform like Bieber, but of course rarely all three at once. Maybe Bieber thought that meeting him could get him the inspiration and motivation, he thought he was lacking – or maybe… just maybe, Bieber saw me as a potential threat, someone who could eventually replace him if left unchecked, and so thought that allying with me would be beneficial for him to get his act together.

I smirked satisfied to himself, pondering whether I should answer straight away or wait. I decided to answer straight away like an excited, yet humble fan, thanking Bieber for his kind words and accepting his invitation with extreme enthusiasm.

One thing led to another and before I knew it, I was scheduled for a flight to Los Angeles to meet the icon himself. Having the flight paid for by Bieber himself was a nice gesture. But with this opportunity at my hand, I decided to go with an idea, I had originally toyed with – rather than being a star like Bieber… I was going to become Bieber.

I arrived at Los Angeles Airport with a small bag of necessities, and my most prized possession glistening on my finger as always. I had never been to Los Angeles before, but I had to accept that this was going to be the place I'd call home for the foreseeable future. Curiously there wasn't anyone to meet me at the airport, no transport arranged or anything, at least not that I noticed, so I felt a little lost and confused, but I got the address, so if I had to arrange something myself, I knew where I was supposed to be going.

Having strolled around the arrival hall for about half an hour with no apparent instructions, I decided to just get going myself. There were plenty of taxis just outside the airport, and I just gave one of the drivers the address, and he was going to get me there easily, and for some reason I didn't really care about the bill I was going to get, if my plan succeeded, I would end up with a fortune.

The driver dropped me off at a gated community, having never seen such a thing in my life, I approached the main gate with anticipation - I had a feeling I could get used to it, once I knew. And as I approached, a security guard came up to me and asked why I was here. I nonchalantly showed him the invitation on my phone, he read it, then walked into a building by the edge of the gate. A minute passed, then the gate opened. I waited until the gate was completely opened before strolling in, giving off the feeling that I definitely belonged here.

Passing numerous mansions on both sides, I tried to see if I could guess which was Justin, just by the look. It wasn't exactly easy, so I instead just opted to use the house number, admittedly these houses were not necessarily a true reflection of the people who lived there, besides their wealth of course. Justin's mansion was one of the bigger ones, and quite impressive with a large garage, two stories and a splendid view. A chill of satisfaction ran down my spine, knowing that I was actually going to stay here, this place was going to be mine. Walking up the driveway I had a feeling, that I was being watched, but that was probably just the security cameras. I rang the doorbell, feeling my heartbeat starting to pound like crazy in anticipation, and very curious about who would open the door.

The door swung open and there he stood, it was definitely him, Justin Bieber himself. For a brief moment I felt completely stunned, couldn't say a word, move a muscle - or control my arousal, which surged as soon as I laid eyes upon him.

"Hi - Jack, right?" Justin began as he extended his hand to me. I responded with a trembling handshake, having a feeling that Justin was used to it by now and just dismissing it as me being starstruck, which was partially true, but only partially.

"It's great to meet you," I said firmly, having gotten a grip on myself. "Yeah, it's cool to meet you too - also that you managed to find your way here yourself. I totally forgot about getting you from the airport to here, but-" Justin paused, then stepped aside so I could walk in. The house was as luxurious and opulent as I had imagined, but honestly I couldn't tell that it was his place from the interior, it was grand and elaborate and all, but honestly it could have belonged to any celebrity or socialite - but that could all be changed, if I wanted to. Justin had put some refreshment out in the living room, water bottles, soda cans, chips, fruits and nuts, and I suppose he wanted to signal that I could just help myself, and that it was redundant for him to actual say it.

We sat down, and he immediately began to talk about my videos, saying how impressed he was with what he had seen. I took all the compliments that I could get, feeling my finger itch ever so slightly. By this time I had affirmed that we were actually alone in the house, which meant that I could enact my plan as soon as I wanted. I was just waiting for the right moment. I told about the concert I had recently been to, and Justin confirmed, it was the last one, he made, before he had to cancel the rest of the tour. He told me, how after that concert, he felt completely off, off the music, off the moves, off the performance - off the whole stage. He, of course, had no idea, where it came from - why he all of a sudden felt completely out-of-sync, so he and his team decided, that there was no choice, but to postpone the rest of the tour until he got his head back in the game. That's why he wanted to meet me - after he saw how I went viral, he thought that I could maybe give him the push, he needed, though he also seemed slightly suspicious about how I performed so much like him. How naïve he was, I thought to myself.

I got up from my armchair and stepped right in front of Justin looking him straight in the eyes. He clearly expected me to say something, but I had no intention of, at least not now - it was time to strike. Before he could react I had pulled him out of his chair and pinned him on the floor with a wrestling move I had "acquired". I was easily able to pin him down, and even with one hand free, which I placed over his mouth as he stared confused at me.

"I came prepared - I got more black belts than you got t-shirts." I said gloatingly as I pinned the idol down. And that was something I was particularly proud of it, I hadn't just been making videos, I had been out and about to a variety of martial arts competitions with my trusty ring, taking all those skills for myself - wrestling, taekwondo, judo, karate, kung fu and so much more. I pointed the ring at him, now I was ready to take everything, not just talents and skills, but flesh, blood and bone. I wanted his face, his body, his identity, his life - all of it. The ring was searing on my finger, glowing so blindingly bright, that I couldn't look - I just focused on wanting to have everything that Justin had, as my entire body began to feel like it was burning.

I awoke with a gasp, lying on the floor, down on all four, I instinctively looked at my finger, that was numb, but still hurting. It definitely felt like it had been burnt, and it unmistakably had a light mark around it. Then I noticed the hand... and my arm, it wasn't mine, it was Justin's. I got up on my feet and studied my new physique, it had actually worked, and the reflective surface on the table confirmed it - I had become Justin. The mere sight immediately sent me over the edge, and I felt a warm substance in my pants, running down my leg - it was a satisfaction unlike any I had ever felt. I ran to the mirror in the hallway and saw myself as Justin, the handsome face, the lean build, it was really all mine. I tore of my old shirt and my stained pants, but as I did I immediately climaxed again, staining the mirror and some of the hallway decor.

I ran my new hand over my chest and abdomen. Justin, I mean, I was certainly not a bodybuilder, but there was definitely some muscles here, this body was definitely fit - but if I wanted some more muscle, that could easily be fixed, I thought as I looked at the shiny ring resting on Justin's - my finger. I returned to the living room to see, if there was actually any remnants of Justin, but to my surprise, there was hardly any trace. There were some brittle grey flakes around the spot where I had pinned him down as well as his clothes, but no sign of Justin - well, the former Justin so to speak.

I grabbed the pile of clothes, the last trace of his existence, brushing off the flakes, then I began to put them on. Once again I felt an incredible satisfaction as I took possession of Justin's clothes, the slightly damp t-shirt, which his scent still clung to, his baggy pants, his socks and design sneakers - all of it, now adorning my body. If I hadn't already done it twice I probably would have climaxed again.

It was the best day of my life, when I for the first time could zip up Justin's shiny black flight suit and enter the stage, landing like an angel in a crowd of thousands of screaming and adoring fans - MY adoring fans. And the critics of that night and I could definitely agree on something - Justin Bieber was back and better than ever!

Bieber was back!

[21wanderer]

The silver lining

Body a day II - #2: Spectrum

The hologram suit was ready for action. Having slipped on the massive, and on its own quite impressive, silver muscle suit, the wearer initiated the program and the transformation began. At first the suit began to darken, the silver sheen dulled and turned grey, before it began to take on a human skin tone. It tightened around its wearer whilst muscles, veins, freckles, pores and birthmarks replaced the grey lustreless material, as it bended the whole spectrum of light to create the illusion of an all-natural muscular hunk.

Breathing heavily as his arousal grew, he watched his appearance becoming more and more human and more and more convincing.

He then began to tweak the in-built voice modulator. “Testing… testing… testing” he repeated as he adjusted the pitch until he found the exact sound he liked. The voice was stolen from some guy he had found on social media, but he liked it a lot, so he wanted it for himself.

He slipped on a couple of Calvin Klein boxers (three sizes bigger than what he’d normally wear), that would cover the one thing the suit was lacking. But he was still very satisfied with the result. He flexed and the illusion was perfect. Nobody would imagine he was just a guy in a suit. The spectrum of light was carefully controlled to make him appear as his ideal self, even the infrared part. If you looked at him through thermographic camera, you wouldn’t be able to tell that this was just a guy in a suit.

He rummaged through the piles of clothes he had prepared, more than enough for various outfits… and identities should it be desired. He could become anyone, as long as they fit the proportions of the suit, and he didn’t want it any other way. Being a muscleman was something he had always wanted, and he saw no reason to change that anytime soon.

Having finally decided on an outfit, he took a couple of selfies in the bathroom mirror, admiring the result. Then it was time to head out and put this hologram to the test.

“Let’s go!”

[21wanderer]

Beefcake

Part of the new prompt-based writing challenge, hosted by @max-the-many

Body a day II - #1: Flour

To make a beefcake, you need the right kind of flour…

Six weeks ago I was skinny as a twig, but this stuff works wonders. It’s not your average protein powder, this is something far better, far more potent, so it has to be administered carefully.

With a little patience, the results will show soon enough. You can almost hear the sound of the muscles expanding, feeling your body grow ever so slightly. Looking down at your arms as they inflate is incredibly satisfying.

I’ll soon have reached my goal, my ideal body, then I’ll only need ‘the stuff’ to maintain my bulk.

Then the beefcake is done.

[21wanderer]

Benchwarmer

“Are you going to sit there all day, Rick?” the trainer asked his best rugby player, who sat almost motionlessly on the bench. “Yeah, I’m sorry” he replied trying to sound unwell, but not too sick either.

“My stomach has been acting up all day,” he lied trying to get the nosey trainer to leave him alone. He tried his best to look like he really wanted to be here, whilst being too unwell to actually participate. Practice had just started, there was about one and a half hour to go, and the waiting time was making him anxious.

---

He had prepared everything, signed up for an activity before the rugby team arrived to have access to the same locker room, replaced Rick’s water bottle with an identical one, but with the bodysuit serum and an acute laxative added, even made copies of the bathroom key and written the whole meticulous plan down in every detail to make sure nothing was overlooked. But if he thought that slipping on Rick would be a piece of cake, he was sorely mistaken. For all his planning he had forgot to account for the size of the bathrooms.

The bodysuit serum had done his trick by the time he let himself into the bathroom with the unconscious Rick, and he had managed to separate Rick’s head from his body, so he could slip into him, but crammed into the tiny bathroom, that just wouldn’t work.

He needed more time... and space, but he couldn’t risk anybody walking in on him. He carefully unlocked the bathroom door peering into the empty locker room. He had an idea, hopefully it would work, he obviously couldn’t afford to mess this up.

Rick’s teammates had already called for him, and he had been in the bathroom for almost 15 minutes, he needed to get out there, before they became suspicious.

Jolting out of the bathroom, he headed straight for Rick’s bag and rugby gear, from the bag he pulled out Rick’s sub suit as well as his socks and boots. He retreated to the bathroom with it, and it was much easier to pull on. The baggy suit would be the best way for him to hide his body, whilst he pretended to be Rick.

He slipped into the slightly amorphous suit, zipping everything, then quickly pulled on Rick’s socks and boots. The socks obviously hadn’t been washed since last practice, but he didn’t mind at all. That aroma would belong to him soon enough. He then grabbed Rick’s lifeless face and slipped it on, and he needed to do it quickly. Plunging his head into the hollow throat, he soon found the eye-holes and from there, he could begin to adjust the mask, making sure eyes, nose, mouth and ears all were aligned properly.

From any outside perspective he looked exactly like Rick, and as long as he kept the suit on, nobody would know. Checking if the coast was clear again, the Rick-imposter left the bathroom. He stuffed the headless Rick-suit into a locker and locked it, he would have to retrieve it after the game. He checked himself one last time in the mirror, the face was animate, Rick’s charismatic face moved as if it was his own. But he did not feel safe yet, if anybody saw the unfit body underneath…

---

With everything securely zipped, he made his way to the field outside, but headed straight for the benches. Now all he had to was to be patient and wait, it would be so worth it, once the waiting time was over. And although he was nervous, it did feel good to finally be in the position, where people saw him as Rick, being dressed in his clothes, seeing the world through his eyes. Soon the rest of the athlete’s body and life would be his. He just needed for practice to end, and for everybody to go home. Then he could take the final step.

[21wanderer]

In the saddle

I’m glad I could help you, I’m glad I could encourage you. I’ve watched your progress as you pushed yourself to the limit. I always knew you’d be a great triathlete. You had guts and potential and ambition.

I was never good at swimming, nor cycling, nor running, but as you I got the full package.

Now that you’ve made all the preparations for me, I’m sure, I’ll get a good time at the triathlon this weekend. I want to get the best out of all your hard work, bearing the fruits of your labour, like you always did back when we were co-workers.

This body is fit and strong, and destined for something greater – and it looks good in lycra. There’s no way I’m giving this up. Now I’m in the saddle.

[21wanderer]

A career in music

“Hi Sebastian, sorry if I’m late.” I said entering the music room. I’ve had a busy day, with it being my final day of teaching.

The young man looked up from his guitar and smiled.

“No worries, teach, I’ve just been sitting jammin’ a bit while waiting.” Sebastian said innocently.

“Well, I’m not a teacher much longer,” I replied as I closed the door.

“Does it feel strange to have your last day today?” Sebastian asked curiously.

“Sort of… But it’s a great opportunity. I still wanted to talk to you about the strings, I’ve been pulling.”

“Yeah?!” Sebastian eyes lit up, he sat up straight, eager to hear, what I had to tell him.

“I’ve been talking to a producer at Alpha Centauri and showed him some of your music, and he is considering you-”

“What?! Are you fucking serious?! They really are going to let me-”

I had to cut off the excited young man, I handed him my phone; “Here, you can read the mail, he sent me, yourself.” He smiled a million dollar smile.

I handed him my battered old phone and pretended to be reading over his shoulder, as Sebastian excitedly read the quite long e-mail.

Unfortunately for Sebastian the mail wasn’t real, as a matter of fact, I had written it myself, but I just needed to be very close to him and have him be distracted. Then I jabbed the syringe into his neck.

The young man immediately lashed out, falling off the chair and dropping the phone in the process. He looked up at me with a shocked, but already somewhat vacant expression.

I immediately sat on top of him, pinning him down, pressing one hand against his mouth, whilst holding his right arm down against the floor. He was no doubt much stronger than me, but with the drug debilitating his body, it was much easier than expected.

“I’m sorry, Sebastian,” I said with apathy, “but this is the opportunity, I’m talking about.”

He tried retaliating with his left arm, but soon appeared to lose control of it, causing it to flail around randomly until the drug really kicked in.

When he stopped struggling, I got up and checked the door was locked, and then quickly took off my clothes, stuffing it into a plastic bag.

Sebastian was completely unconscious by that time, so I could take off his clothes with ease as well. His naked body was a sight to behold – young, strong and handsome, except slightly twisted as his insides had decayed.

I laid on top of what remained of Sebastian to squeeze out all the air and gunk still trapped in his body. It was like lying on a deflating balloon, a visible vapour left every orifice, and soon he was completely flat and empty.

“I’m done with teaching, now it’s time to take what should have been mine.” I monologued, as if Sebastian could still hear me.

I picked up Sebastian’s skin, shook it a little and marvelled at the result. Not hesitating any further I stretched his mouth wide and began slipping my feet inside. It was a struggle to get inside, but eventually I got my foot all the way down. The next foot was easier, and as soon as I could wiggle my toes within Sebastian’s feet, I could easily pull his strong legs into place as well.

I fed my dick into his hollow shaft, and it sprung to life, after which I could pull his gaping mouth over my butt. I pulled the stretchy skin further up my body, my own gut being replaced by Sebastian’s flat stomach.

“You’re by far the most talented musician I’ve ever taught, and I’m sick and tired of teaching, now I’m getting the music career, I always dreamt of when I was your age.”

It wasn’t getting any easier, but I was so close. Getting my arm inside his mouth, whilst being stretched around by abdomen was more difficult than anticipated, but I eventually managed to get one arm in, and the result spoke for itself. It was smooth, tan, strong… and mine! I flexed it a couple of times, and even stroked my arousal a couple of times… It was perfect.

After a little more struggling, I could plunge my other arm into his, and that was the last major obstacle.

With a simple movement, the chest and shoulders slid into place, and with only his vacant head dangling behind mine like a hood, I was almost done.

I gently ran my new hand over my new firm chest, feeling my pecs, both slabs of smooth and strong muscle.

“Just imagine how far the two of us can go together as one. I want the fame, the money, the-” I paused, that would be the last time, that I would hear my own voice. It was time to finish.

I stretched Sebastian’s mouth wide one last time, so it could swallow me whole. A tingling sensation rushed through my body and mind, as Sebastian’s mouth snapped shut around mine.

The sensation of darkness and unintelligible pictures and thoughts rushed through me, but suddenly there was light and clarity.

“FUUUUUUUUCK!” I growled triumphantly. Looking down my new body, I was beyond satisfaction. I instinctively looked up at the clock over the door. I had been here longer, than expected. I needed to slip into Sebastian’s routine, there would be plenty of time for self-gratification later, though I had to strongly repress the urges.

I put on Sebastian’s underwear, socks, t-shirt, pants, his signature necklace and wristbands. There was something particularly pleasing about claiming these personal keepsakes as my own. Finally, I slipped on his biker jacket, it was a perfect fit and still smelled strongly of leather and the sweat of the young man.

I picked up his guitar and the plastic bag with the last remaining traces of my old self.

I quietly left the room, wanted to head outside to get some fresh air and sun.

Everything seemed brighter and lighter outside the classroom as I stepped into the hallway.

But after having only walked about 200 metres, I felt unwell, as if the hallway was spinning. I needed to sit down, so I sat on the stairs leading to the upper floors. I suppose the transformation wasn't completely done yet.

As I sat here, waiting for the dizziness to go away, I decided to put this new body to the test. I strummed the guitar like it was the most natural thing in the world, and I could feel both my and Sebastian's talent streaming through my fingers and the notes they produced.

It was almost an unreal sensation. I was better than my old self, I was better than Sebastian, I was on a whole other level. The dizziness had precipitated, and I got back on my feet. A couple of girls passed by in the hallway, they had noticed my music, they smiled at me, and I flashed signature Sebastian’s grin right back at them. Once they were gone, I burst into laughter.

I grabbed my phone and gave a call to NewU Records, who were the ones I had actually gotten an agreement with, and they were going to make me their new star, all I had to do was give them a call.

Everything was set up for Sebastian. Record deal, new apartment and future career, all set up by me. From my savings I've even bought a white convertible, which I think would go extremely well with my new identity.

I took it for a spin later that night, like a totally insufferable, self-absorbed and enviable celebrity with the world at his feet. It feels so good, it feels so right. This is going to be sweet.

[21wanderer]

I was really pumped when I left school, one of the last I think.

It had been a long day, lots of classes even though it was the last day of term.

A memory popped into my head, chest training. Damn I felt so good, so much energy.

Smiling, a thought drifted through my mind; a holiday, spring break. My nose crinkled, Sofia-my girl.

With my backpack crammed with my gear, I turned up the volume on my headphones, took a breath and confidently made my way to the gym for what I knew would be an amazing session.

None of this would have been possible without Callum of course, the body I now possessed.

He came into school early, fresh from a run. Coach allowed him to shower in the gym, convenient for me.

I prepped the syringe, as I made my way into the locker room. I could here the showers and knew he’d be finishing up soon.

The water stopped and I waited out of sight. He walked past me, I took a breath admiring his muscular physique. Before he could get any further, I jabbed him with the needle. He spun around and I grabbed him as he struggled. He was strong, but I held on. Moments passed and I could feel him getting weaker, slower, lighter.

The transformation into a skinsuit had begun. He’d stopped struggling, and I was able to lift him over my shoulder and take him back into the showers.

I lowered him to the floor as I began to strip. By the time I’d finished, Callum was ready to accept me.

Sitting on the floor, Callum’s head between my legs I pulled at his face, stretching his lips.

His mouth parted, his gaping mouth accepted my feet and legs easily. I continued to inch myself deeper into his young body.

Callum’s body bunched up until my feet where in place inside his. I pulled again, and my own legs became sheathed. I worked my hips, slipping inside his making sure I took his ass and dick.

I glanced at the clock, just visible outside the shower room; 08:15. I needed to hurry up.

Continuing, I pulled his torso up my own body, feeding my arms inside his. Eventually I was able to get inside his torso, his shoulders slipped over mine. I had not only lost a couple of inches in height, but also my own chubby physique.

Finally I pulled his face over mine, completing my transformation.

Getting to my feet, I stretched in my new identity—taking a couple of breaths in my new body.

Making my way back into the locker room I saw my reflection for the first time, “fucking amazing.” I huffed, enjoying my new voice.

Grabbing my towel, I finished drying off and made my way to the locker. I only had rudimentary memories, enough to make it through the day. The detail would surface later in the day.

I sifted through the clothes, selecting a white compression shirt and strapped cargos.

It felt strange pulling on small underwear and socks, but they fit perfectly of course. The shirt was tight and displayed Callum’s — my muscles like a showcase. The cargos and trainers set off my new persona perfectly.

I slipped my backpack over my shoulders and trademark headphones over my ears. The mobile recognised my new face and opened. I selected som music and left the locker room. I had classes, but none would be a struggle for me. I chuckled know that my scores would be improving for sure.

Others started filtering into the halls, people nodded and felt great wrapped in the popular kids identity.

With the holidays just around the corner I knew I would be having so much fun.

[21wanderer]

Seen after class

It was Friday at 15:40, end of the day – the students poured from the room into the hallways, passing by Jamie, the captain of the swimming team, who waited patiently outside.

“Hey Jamie!” “Wassup Jamie?” some of the students shouted as they passed by him, already out of earshot before Jamie could answer. He just stood and smiled, waiting for the classroom to be completely empty.

“Hello Jamie”, Mr. Larson replied, “please come in,” he gesticulated as Jamie entered the now-empty classroom.

As soon as Jamie slammed the door shut behind him, he quickly, but quietly locked the door.

“Hi Larson”, Jamie said softly with a smirk, Larson reciprocated the look. The student and professor leaned in on each other, then their lips met in a kiss. Their romance intensified, they embraced and held each other tightly, their puffer jackets creaking loudly, as they ran their hands all over each other.

Still with their arms wrapped around each other, Jamie looked insatiably into the professor’s eyes and asked: “Are you ready for our trip?”

“Absolutely,” Larson answered playfully, “the car is packed and waiting.”

”Say… before we go… Do you wanna swap?” Jamie asked with a grin, placing his hand on Larson’s stubble.

”Swap?” Larson repeated and after a moment of thought he continued, “sure.” He reached for the door making sure it was completely locked, before he unzipped the puffer jacket, he’d just put on.

Jamie did the same. They then took off their shirts, trying their best not to get carried away, as they both showcased their tight and trimmed torsos.

---

Harry had always fantasized about dating Jamie, the captain of the swimming team, whereas his boyfriend David had always found the slightly more mature Mr. Larson very attractive. And when the two had discovered a way to become someone else, they leapt at it, deciding it would be satisfying to become the people, who their partner desired the most… at least desired on a physical level.

Harry had slithered into Larson to fulfil David’s desire, and David had slithered into Jamie to fulfil his. They had taken over their lives, but had adapted to their new identities, finding it oddly easy to step into the roles of professor and elite athlete respectively. To them it was little more than a theatrical performance, but they enjoyed every bit of it.

---

Their skins stretched and contorted in unnatural ways until their upper bodies had completed separated from what was hiding beneath.

With an almost unreal *schlorp* the skins of the two men came off. Harry and David, while soaked in sweat, smiled to each other, it seemed like an eternity since, they had actually seen their true selves.

The two nobodies exchanged the lifeless torsos of Jamie and Mr. Larson, then began pulling on their new identities, pushing their heads up through the necks and forcing their arms into the vacant skins’.

Once settled with their new torsos, all the features in place. Harry ran a finger up Jamie’s muscular arm and up his neck to his face, which he now was all in possession of.

”Nice,” he said with Jamie’s voice, “very nice.”

There was definitely something thrilling about being the guy you wanted to date, rather than having someone else be him. It was obvious that David was in agreement, caressing Larson’s more mature body.

”Wanna swap bottoms too?” the new Jamie asked.

”Nah, that can wait,” said the new Larson, who were pulling on his shirt again. “Besides… isn’t it an arousing thought to be… you know… by yourself, so to speak?”

Jamie grinned, his lower half was still Mr. Larson’s, so he definitely got what David/Larson was thinking of.

“Alright then, but we’ll have to get to that, once we get to the hotel,” the new Jamie said as he pulled on Jamie’s t-shirt and jacket, zipping it up.

“See you out front in 5 minutes,” the new Jamie said with a wink and left the room.

Walking through the hallways was definitely different being a star athlete, compared to being a professor, the other jocks waving and shouting at him, passing him hi-fives and compliments as he made his way to the parking lot, where ‘Mr. Larson’ would pick him up for an unforgettable weekend. And as he walked, he began to wonder… Would people notice, that he was wearing Larson’s jeans?

[21wanderer]

Rocking a punk

I had tried to run into Martin Jenkins for some time, an old classmate of mine, who didn’t care the slightest for me, and it was mutual. But that feeling had changed, since I discovered how he had matured. He was still a punk, don’t get me wrong, he had a temper and could easily get into a fight, but he had potential now… Potential that I could bring forth, with a little help from my father’s pharmaceutical company.

“Hi Jenkins,” I said as I walked up to him, it had taken me quite some time to build up the courage to approach him, there was something intimidating yet imposing about him, especially with the black leather biker jacket, a cigarette between his lips and the fact I was like a twig in comparison. He looked at me like a complete stranger, then he realised, who I was… I think… He didn’t actually say my name, maybe he had almost completely forgotten me.

“Oh, hi” Martin replied still looking at me with disinterest. There wasn’t really any reason to reminiscence the ‘good old days’, so I just cut straight to the chase. “I heard you’ve been looking for a job,” I said, he raised an eyebrow in return: “Where did you hear that? Does everybody know, I’m out of a job?” he grumbled. “Yes, I heard it from one of the others,” I said, hoping he didn’t see through the lie, it was clear, that he was distrustful of me. “The pharmaceutical company my father is working for is hiring, and they are looking for people.”

Martin was quiet for a bit, then he asked: “What sort?” I knew that I now got him on the hook. “Well, there’s some jobs in their growing storage facility, and they also are looking for couriers, who can bring samples, equipments and tests around town.” I knew he liked driving around on his moped, so this was my best bet. “And how are the work conditions? Am I expected to treat every assignment as life-or-death, that requires me to bring stuff from one end of town to the other in 10 minutes or less?” I was actually a bit surprised by his response, it sounded like he had been having some rough jobs in the past. “No, not really,” I said, trying to not scare him away. “The pay is very decent, and the work conditions are fine, haven’t really heard any complaints.” “Alright, I’ve just been working as errand boy for so many companies, who tried to screw me over,” Martin muttered.

“Please, come to the company on Thursday,” I said, almost pleadingly “and talk to my father, I’m sure, he can offer you something good.” I handed Martin one of my father’s business cards, beginning to fear I had messed this up. “11 o’clock, Thursday,” I said, before turning to leave, feeling very awkward. I really needed to get away from Martin for now, I also couldn’t stand the smell of smoke. I needed to make sure he quit that.

Martin showed up the following Thursday… surprisingly in a suit and tie, which I did not expect. It didn’t seem like something he was used to wearing, but he looked pretty sharp nonetheless.

He entered the room and shook my father’s hand. My father looked at me, and asked” Are you absolutely sure about this?” Martin looked a bit confused, as I answered: “Absolutely,” and nodded.

”Very well,” my father replied and then turned his full attention to Martin, “so Martin… Before we begin, may I offer you something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”

”Coffee,” Martin said, “just regular.” My father poured coffee into a mug – a mug, that had been specially prepared for Martin, now I just needed to be sure, he drank it. Once Martin had taken the mug, my father began the ’interview’ like it was just a regular interview. He asked Martin about his previous experience, and we found out that Martin had done surprisingly many jobs, just not for very long as his employers usually had tried to screw him over, and he’d decided to quit rather than accept their terrible working conditions, although he needed the money. He had done manual labour and worked as a courier using his moped.

The conversation went on, while I waited for the effect to kick in, and after ten minutes that felt like hours Martin began to ’doze off’ having drunk roughly half of the mug’s content.

When Martin became entirely unresponsive, it was time to act.

While my father locked the door, I began to undress Martin, or what was left of him. ”So you are really going through with this?” my father asked almost disappointined, as he began to help me undress the collapsed Martin.” Yes, and thank you for making it happening” I replied unable to conceal my excitement. ”But couldn’t you have found someone better? He’s a bit of a punk, isn’t he?” my father continued as he folded Martin’s white shirt neatly and placed it on his desk with the rest of Martin’s clothes. ”He’s perfect,” I replied,” and besides… I can make some changes if necessary.”

Martin’s skin was all that remained of him, like a deflated, human-shaped balloon, his eye sockets empty and his mouth gaping and stretched far beyond its normal capability. It was ready.

I discarded my own clothes hastily, and my father helped me slither into the bodysuit.

It was surprisingly easy to get inside, and made me feel even smaller and skinnier, than I normally did. Not that it would matter for much longer, soon I wouldn’t have to think about that ever again.

Martin certainly was no athlete, but he was fit and strong, maybe due to the manual labour and fistfights he had a habit of getting into.

I could wiggle my toes, and they responded flawlessly. Soon his legs, abdomen, torso and arms were also under my complete control. The skin might need a little moisturiser, but other than that, I was elated with my new skin. I had even gained some extra height, and the body felt naturally, if still a little loose. I looked one last time at my father with my old face, and smiled at him, he just stared at me in disbelief, but it seemed like he had accepted the change. I grabbed Martin’s windswept hair, that still dangled on my back as his hollow head hung around my shoulders. I pulled it and his face up and over my head like a hood. With a final snap, everything fell into place. I massaged the face, just to make sure it was aligned properly. I then felt a tightening across my entire body. I don’t if I was growing inside the skin, or the skin was shrinking to fit me, or something in between or entirely fourth.

But at the end of it, it was a perfect fit. I stretched my new body, flexed my new muscles, and ran my hands over my new skin. I looked at my father again with a devilish grin: “Now this feels so amazing!” “I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he replied and began to hand Martin’s clothes to me, “and I expect you’ll put it to good use.” “Definitely,” I said with Martin’s voice, as I slipped his pants on, slightly disappointed he didn’t come in the leather jacket and jeans that he wore last I saw him, but that was only a question of time. Having tidied myself up, I looked just like Martin as he had entered the room barely an hour ago.

“See you at dinner,” I chuckled. “Very well,” my father said still with clear disbelief in his voice, “but do something about that hair,” he continued, as I reached for the door handle. “Yeah, sure,” I replied and headed out the door.

I headed straight back to Martin’s cheap apartment, it was a poor sight for sure, and I certainly was not going to stay here. I rummaged through Martin’s stuff and managed to find the exact outfit he had been wearing, when last I saw him. I ditched the suit and tie, then pulled on the black t-shirt, the scent of his sweat still clinging to it. A smell I now recognised as my own, I pulled it on very satisfied. Next were his jeans, I loved the way they fit, and the fact that they were several sizes bigger than my old pants only made it more satisfying. I grabbed my crotch hard, barely able to contain myself. Finally I plunged my new, bigger arms into the sleeves of MY leather jacket, claiming it as my own and establishing my new ‘’bad-boy’ persona. I took a look at my reflection and laughed, I couldn’t help it. I was so pumped, that I barely knew what to do with myself, this body needed to be put to the test. I slipped into Martin's/my leather boots with a newfound confidence, with his clothes and body under my control.

Let’s see what I can do with this before dinner.

Epilogue: As for my hair, my father and I found a compromise. I’m still going to keep the bad-boy persona, and even with my preference for leather and tight jeans, I can still pull off the look of the handsome young man who’s got a great future ahead of him… if/when I want to.

[21wanderer]

Listen you, I don't know who you are or how long you've been posing as our champ. But I've told the whole crew about your little secret and your deception! And they were appalled... They feel betrayed and deceived, but for the sake of the team, they've all agreed, that I am the champion now! So you have no business here, stranger. You best get out of here before we call security.

No April Fool's Joke

"Yeah, okay Joey, I think the joke has gone on long enough. Can you untie me now?" laughed the champ, "we got work to do." "Not quite," said Joey the crewmember. Joey had been onto him for some time now, he already knew his secret, and what he wanted to gain from it. Joey rubbed the back of his hand against the tied-up champ's face. The champ seemed almost nervous, up until now he had been taking it as a harmless joke.

Joey reached for the champ's throat, digging his hands into his skin feeling for a fold around his neck, and eventually he found one. With a swift move he yanked the champion's face off. Joey now stood with the champion's lifeless face in his hand, and his suspicions confirmed.

Now the leather-clad biker appeared to be a pale and sweaty man, who looked frantically and frightened at Joey. "I can explain everything," he yelped instinctively. "Not necessary," Joey replied and pressed a rag against the stranger's face till he lost consciousness.

Joey then quickly untied the champ or whoever he was, then stripped all his leathers off him. Excitedly Joey put on the mask as well as the champ's gear right down to his sweaty undersuit. Once all the gear was in place from the mismatched leather boots to the Monster baseball cap, Joey immediately left for the track with a satisfied grin on his face, he was ready to take his career and life to the next level, and had no reason to look behind him anymore.