amendingreality

[amendingreality]

The Bond Machine

Jonathan:

I never thought things with my dad could get any weirder than they already were. I mean, what kind of man spends years locked in an attic working on a machine no one understands? But there I was, forced by my mom to spend the holidays with him. I couldn’t even say I was surprised—she always insisted we needed to “reconnect” or something like that.

So here I was, sitting in the living room of a house that was barely standing, staring at my phone while my dad… well, did whatever he did down in the basement. We barely talked. I guess it’s hard to have a conversation when you’ve only seen someone a couple of times a year your whole life.

When Kirk—yeah, I call him Kirk, not Dad—went out to the supermarket that afternoon, I saw my chance. I had to see that damn machine he was always talking about. I went down to the basement, and there it was: huge, with blinking lights and tons of buttons and screens. It looked like something out of a sci-fi movie.

I got closer, curious. How could I not be? The guy had been working on it for years. I started pressing some buttons randomly. A screen lit up, showing the number 45. I laughed to myself. “45? What kind of joke is this?” I thought. I was about to keep exploring when suddenly something clicked, and the machine’s doors shut behind me.

“Hey! Let me out!” I shouted, banging on the metallic walls. But nothing happened.

A low hum filled the space, followed by a robotic voice that sent chills down my spine: “Transformation will begin shortly. Age: 45 years. Body: muscular. Data completed. Your new self is coming.”

“What the hell?” I muttered, but I didn’t have time to process it. Thick smoke filled the chamber, and my body started to feel heavy. My eyelids shut before I could think of anything else.

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was the pain. Everything hurt. I tried to stand, but my legs were like jelly. I stumbled out of the machine and leaned against the wall to keep from falling. Everything was blurry, but something in front of me caught my attention. One of the panels had a reflective surface, like a mirror. I stepped closer, and what I saw left me speechless.

That wasn’t me. Well, it was, but… it wasn’t. My arms were bigger, my chest broader, and my face… it looked like a version of me who had spent the last twenty years lifting weights and drinking protein shakes. How the hell had this happened?

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway snapped me out of my daze. Kirk was back. I tried to run up the stairs, but my legs still weren’t fully working. I had barely taken a few steps when the basement door burst open.

“What the hell did you do, Jonathan?” Kirk shouted, eyes wide, looking at the machine and then at me. I wanted to say something, but everything went black again.

When I woke up, I was on the living room couch, and Kirk was sitting in front of me, looking at me like I was some kind of failed experiment.

“What’s going on?” I asked, still confused.

“What’s going on?” he repeated sarcastically. “You got into my machine. That’s what’s going on!”

Then he started explaining what I never thought I’d hear. That machine wasn’t just any machine—it was a body transformation machine. And thanks to my stupidity, I was now 45 years old.

“No way…” I muttered, standing up and running to a nearby mirror. There was that same muscular man again, like out of a magazine. It was me, but it wasn’t me. My mind was about to explode.

“What am I supposed to do now?” I yelled at Kirk, turning to him. “What are you supposed to do?” he repeated, crossing his arms. “You’re going to live with the consequences of your actions, that’s what you’re going to do.”

I looked at him in disbelief. He had to be joking. But from the look on his face, I knew he wasn’t.

And just like that, in the blink of an eye, my life changed forever.

Kirk:

For over fifteen years, that machine had been my obsession. My marriage crumbled because of it, my relationship with Jonathan became distant, and even my own health took a back seat. But now, finally, it had paid off. The machine worked. The machine worked.

Of course, not in the way I had expected.

I looked at Jonathan sitting on the couch, exploring his new body with a mix of confusion and fascination. The smoke had disintegrated his clothes, leaving him only in boxers that barely covered the essentials. His new body was… well, impressive. More muscular, more defined, younger than I had ever been—even at my best. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of resentment. How was it that my own invention ended up making my son look better than me?

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered to myself as I headed to the closet to find some clothes.

I pulled out an old t-shirt and a pair of pants that I knew would fit him—though with that body, even a trash bag would’ve looked good. When I returned to the living room, I saw him still staring at his hands, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Put this on,” I said, tossing him the clothes.

Jonathan took them without a word and dressed quickly. The shirt clung to him, highlighting every muscle on his torso. I sighed and looked away.

“So now what?” he asked, still with that mix of disbelief and something that seemed like… amusement? Damn it, was he actually enjoying this?

“Now we fix this mess,” I replied, pointing toward the basement.

We spent the rest of the day down there, trying to figure out how to reverse what had been done. My machine wasn’t meant to work like this. It was a prototype, an experiment. Jonathan had pressed buttons at random, triggering a process I didn’t fully understand myself.

Every time I checked the controls, I was faced with the same reality: Jonathan’s body had been completely transformed, and there was no magic button to undo it.

As we worked, I couldn’t help but glance at him from time to time. He moved with a confidence I hadn’t seen before, as if that new body gave him a security he never had. It was strange—unsettling, even—to see him at my age, but with a vitality I’d lost years ago.

“This doesn’t make sense,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. “What doesn’t?” I asked, not looking up from the controls. “That you spent so much time building something like this. What’s the point of a machine that does this?”

I felt a knot in my stomach. That was the question I had avoided for years. What was it for? To prove I could do it. To feel like I had achieved something, that my life hadn’t been a complete failure. But I couldn’t tell him that.

“It doesn’t matter what it’s for,” I answered, harsher than I meant to. “What matters now is fixing it.”

Jonathan fell silent, but I could feel his gaze on me. It was uncomfortable, like he could see right through me, like he knew I was lying.

Time passed and the controls showed no signs of cooperating. I started to feel desperate—that familiar mix of frustration and guilt that had haunted me my entire life as an inventor. What if I couldn’t fix it? What if Jonathan stayed like this forever?

Finally, I sighed and dropped into a chair. “That’s enough for today. We need to rest.”

Jonathan nodded, though his expression clearly showed he wasn’t satisfied with that answer. As he climbed the stairs, I heard him mutter something, but I couldn’t make it out.

While he headed to his room, I stayed behind in the basement, sitting in the dark, staring at my creation. For the first time, I started to wonder if maybe all of this had been a mistake.

Jonathan:

I walked up to my room, each step a reminder of my new body. My old clothes clung tightly to my skin, as if they were trying to scream that they no longer belonged to me. The t-shirt barely covered my torso, and the jeans… well, it was better not to mention how uncomfortable they felt. I sighed in frustration.

I entered the room and took off the clothes that no longer fit. I opened the drawers, looking for something more comfortable, but everything seemed made for someone much slimmer. I went to the closet, where I found an old sleep shirt and a looser pair of boxers. At least those worked.

In front of the mirror, I stood still, staring at my reflection. It was like looking at a stranger. I ran my hands over my torso, feeling the firmness of the muscles I now had. My face, although different, still held some of my features, but with a maturity I didn’t recognize. It was strange, unsettling, but also… intriguing.

What if we never fixed the machine? What if this was the new me? What would my life be like? My mind began to wander: what would my girlfriend say if she saw me like this? My friends? And what would I do about my future? It would be like starting over—but at 45 years old.

I shook my head to clear those thoughts. There was no point worrying about that now. Kirk and I would fix this. We had to.

I let myself fall onto the bed, still looking at my reflection in the mirror across the room. “This isn’t me,” I murmured, but the image remained, challenging me.

Kirk:

I was in the basement, staring at the machine with a mix of frustration and resignation, when my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID—it was Mark, an old college friend.

"Mark?" I answered, a bit puzzled. "Kirk!" he replied enthusiastically. "Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time, but I just wanted to remind you that the alumni reunion is this Saturday. A lot of people have already confirmed—are you coming?"

The reunion. I had completely forgotten that it was this week. I hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t exactly the kind of event I got excited about, but after all these years, maybe it’d be nice to see some familiar faces.

"Yeah, sure, I’ll be there," I said, almost without thinking. "Perfect! It'll be great to see you. Bring someone if you’d like—it’s always nice to have company."

I hung up and sat there in silence. Bring someone... who could I bring? My social life was practically nonexistent. The last time I went out with someone was years ago, and I definitely didn’t have a partner to accompany me.

Then my gaze shifted to the stairs leading up. Jonathan. Well, the new Jonathan.

The idea hit me like a lightning bolt. What if I took him?

It was absurd, I knew that. But it was also tempting. Jonathan now looked the same age as me, and with that body... well, no one would question it. Plus, it could be a chance for the two of us to bond in some way, even if the situation was completely out of the ordinary.

A small smile formed on my lips. Maybe this could work.

I headed up the stairs, determined. It was time to talk to Jonathan about my crazy idea.

Jonathan:

I was lying on my bed, trying to ignore how weird it was to see myself in the mirror across from me, when I heard someone knock on the door.

“Can I come in?” —It was Kirk’s voice.

“Yeah, come in,” I replied, still trying to get used to calling him by his name instead of “dad.”

Kirk walked in with a strange look on his face, like he had been rehearsing what he was about to say. He closed the door behind him and leaned against the frame, arms crossed.

“I have an idea, but I need you to keep an open mind,” he said, and that already put me on alert.

“What idea?” I asked, trying to sound casual, though deep down I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like it.

“I got a call from an old friend from college. There’s an alumni reunion this weekend and… well, it’d be kind of weird to go alone. So I thought… why don’t you come with me?”

I looked at him, confused.

“You want me to go with you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly,” he said quickly. “But not as your father. You’d be… my date. You know, like you were…”

“My partner?” I interrupted, feeling the words catch in my throat.

Kirk nodded, though his expression clearly showed how uncomfortable he was.

“It’s just to avoid awkward questions. Nobody has to know you’re my son. With that body, no one would guess.”

I stared at him, trying to process what he had just said.

“Wait, wait… what?” I said, almost laughing at how absurd it sounded. “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend?”

“It’s not as crazy as it sounds!” he rushed to say. “Look, at these reunions, there’s always someone showing off their perfect life, their perfect partner, and I don’t want to be the only one showing up alone. It’s just a role, Jonathan.”

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. My mind filled with questions. Why did he care so much about this? Did this mean my dad was… gay? I had never seen him with anyone since my parents’ divorce, but there had never been any signs he was into men either.

“Wait… are you gay?” I asked bluntly, eyes fixed on him.

“What? No!” he answered immediately, though his tone sounded a little defensive. “This has nothing to do with that. It’s just a way to fit in, to not look like a lonely loser.”

I watched him in silence, trying to figure out if there was something more behind his proposal. He didn’t seem to be lying, but the whole situation was so strange I didn’t know what to think.

“This is insane,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “You really don’t have anyone else who could go with you?”

“Jonathan, I need you to do this for me. Just this once. Besides, think about it: with that body, you could steal all the attention.”

I rolled my eyes, feeling like I had no way out. In the end, it was clear Kirk wasn’t doing this for me, but for himself.

“Fine,” I finally said, sighing. “But let’s be clear: this is just to help you.”

Kirk nodded, relieved, and for a moment he almost looked… excited.

As he left the room, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had just happened. How complicated was this going to get? And what would happen if someone found out the truth?

More importantly, why did I care so much about the question Kirk had avoided?

In the days that followed, Kirk and I tried to fix the machine. He was determined to find the mistake, and I… well, I just wanted to get back to my body. But no matter how hard we tried, the machine wouldn't turn on. Each attempt ended in failure, and my frustration grew at the same pace as my desperation.

I wanted to return to normal, especially before that damn reunion Kirk kept mentioning. I couldn’t believe I was seriously considering being his “partner.”

On Friday, Kirk suggested we go to the mall to buy clothes for my “new body.” At first, I refused, but in the end, I agreed; I had no other choice. We got to the mall, and the first thing I noticed was how people's gazes were on me. It was strange to suddenly be seen as attractive, although it was clear that it was because of the body I now had.

“That suit will look perfect on you,” Kirk said, pointing to a black outfit that, to my surprise, actually looked good in the mirror.

It was odd, but this was the first time Kirk had bought me clothes. He’d never done anything like that when I was a kid. Seeing him so committed to all of this, even if it was for his own benefit, made me feel a mix of emotions. Was he trying to make up for something?

Finally, the night of the reunion arrived. I put on the suit we rented, and even though I hated to admit it, I looked good. But my discomfort wasn’t because of the suit; it was because of what was about to happen.

On the way to the event, Kirk started giving me instructions:

“You’ll need a fake name. Something simple but believable.”

“Like what?” I asked, trying to stay calm while adjusting my tie.

“I don’t know, maybe David? Marco? You pick.”

“David’s fine,” I said with a sigh, wanting this to be over soon.

“And we also need a story. Something convincing about how we met. Maybe at the gym or on a trip.”

“A gym? Really?” I responded, feeling more surreal by the second.

“It’s just to blend in. No one will ask too many questions.”

The discomfort grew with each word that came out of his mouth. I couldn’t help but ask:

“You know, all of this makes me wonder something… Are you gay?”

Kirk tensed for a moment, but then he sighed.

“It’s not relevant, Jonathan. This isn’t about me. It’s about fitting in at this reunion and not being the only one who shows up alone.”

He didn’t answer my question, which left me with more doubts. I couldn’t help but wonder if all of this was more important to him than he was admitting.

We arrived at the venue, an elegant hall decorated with warm lights and soft background music. Most of the guests were already there, chatting and sipping wine.

Before entering, Kirk turned to me and said:

“Remember, this is just a white lie. Nothing more.”

I tried to relax, even though everything felt so strange. How had I gotten to this point? Pretending to be my own father’s partner at a reunion?

I took a deep breath and told myself I just had to survive this night. After that, I would find a way to fix the machine and get my life back.

With that thought in mind, I followed Kirk into the hall. The glances we received upon entering were enough to make me wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

Kirk:

The reunion was bigger than I remembered. As soon as we walked in, all eyes were on us. There was excitement, surprise, and curiosity on the faces of my former classmates. Apparently, many were wondering who the man with me was.

We headed to our assigned table, and as soon as we sat down, the questions and compliments began.

“Who's your friend, Kirk?” someone asked with a knowing smile.

Some single middle-aged women even started flirting with Jonathan… or rather, with David, his name for the night. He handled it with a tense smile, but I knew he was uncomfortable.

I couldn’t let this go on much longer, so I decided to drop the bomb.

“Actually…” I paused dramatically, enjoying the anticipation on their faces. “He’s my partner. We’ve been dating for a while.”

The murmurs were immediate. Jonathan could barely hide his surprise, but he managed to play along.

“We met at his gym,” he added confidently. “He’s the owner.”

The reactions were mixed, but surprisingly, most of them were positive. Some of my friends seemed like they had suspected it all along. Others just nodded, accepting it naturally.

“It was about time you found someone,” one of them joked, patting me on the back. “And what luck, he looks like a magazine model!”

I glanced at Jonathan. He seemed to be holding back a reaction, but he kept up the act.

Jonathan:

The dinner went by without any problems. I just smiled and threw compliments Kirk’s way, though deep down I still felt resentment. If he really was gay, why hadn’t he ever told me? Why pretend his whole life?

I tried not to overthink it and just played along with the lie. The evening ended with one final surprise: Mark, an old friend of Kirk’s, invited us to a more private gathering at his house in the coming days.

Kirk accepted without hesitation, and so did I, though more out of pity than interest. I figured maybe it was good for Kirk to have some social life, even if it was based on a lie.

When we finally left the event, Kirk looked satisfied.

“So, what did you think of the reunion?” he asked as we walked to the car.

“Interesting,” I replied in a neutral tone.

I wanted to talk to him about what had happened, but every time I tried to bring it up, he dodged the topic with comments about the dinner, the guests, or how clever he’d been in handling it all.

Once we got home, Kirk pulled a couple of beers from the fridge and handed me one.

“I think we deserve a toast for our big debut as a couple,” he joked.

“Yeah, sure…” I took a sip, not feeling very amused. “But seriously, can you tell me the truth?”

Kirk paused for a moment, holding his bottle midair.

“About what?”

I looked him straight in the eye.

“Are you gay? Or did you just do this to keep women from hitting on you? Because if it’s the latter, you could’ve come up with something way less ridiculous than presenting me as your boyfriend.”

Kirk sighed and took a drink before replying.

“It’s not that simple, Jonathan.”

“Yes, it is. You just have to tell the truth.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Kirk looked at his beer as if he could find the right words in the foam. Finally, he exhaled with resignation.

“Alright. Yes, I am.”

I felt a knot in my stomach. Not because he was gay, but because he had hidden it for so long.

“And why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Kirk gave a bitter smile.

“Because I didn’t even accept it myself for a long time. And when I finally did, I already had a family. I already had you.”

Suddenly, a lot of things made sense. His distance, his coldness, his obsession with the machine. It had all been a way to escape the truth.

I took another sip and looked at him.

“You know, if you’d told me sooner, maybe I wouldn’t hate you so much.”

Kirk let out a dry laugh.

“I know, son. I know.”

We sat there in silence for a moment, drinking our beers. Maybe I still hated him a little… but for the first time in years, I felt like I was really getting to know him.

After several beers, I felt that, for the first time in my life, I was beginning to truly know my father… or rather, Kirk. Maybe this strange body swap experience would change us both.

When we finally went to bed, I lay down with my head spinning—not just from the alcohol, but from everything I had discovered that night.

The next morning, I woke up with a pounding headache. I had never experienced a hangover before, and now I understood why people complained so much about it. I dragged myself to the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and was once again struck by my physique. No matter how many times I saw myself, I still felt like a stranger in this body.

I sighed. If I was going to stay like this for a while, I might as well take care of it. I decided to get some exercise.

But there was a problem: I had very little clothing that actually fit. So I went to Kirk’s room to find something to wear.

I entered quietly and looked through his closet. I found some sweatpants and a sports shirt that, judging by their condition, Kirk had never worn. When I turned around, I saw him fast asleep, shirtless. Despite the years he’d spent locked away working on his machine, his body was still in shape.

For a moment, I thought Kirk should start working out too. He spent too much time shut inside, obsessed with his machine, without any social life. Maybe I could help him with that… maybe even find him a partner or something.

Without thinking much more about it, I woke him up.

—Hey, old man, get up.

Kirk groaned and covered his face with the pillow.

—Let me sleep...

—No way. We’re going to work out.

—I have a hangover…

—So do I, and you don’t hear me complaining. Come on, it’ll do you good to get out a bit.

After a long sigh of defeat, Kirk got up. He looked exhausted, but he finally gave in.

We went to the gym and, surprisingly, had a good time. Kirk seemed to enjoy it—he even taught me a few routines. Who would’ve thought we’d end up having a father-son day in the middle of this madness?

When we finished, we decided to have breakfast together at a nearby café and then go to the movies. It was strange. We had never done anything like that before, but it felt… right.

Kirk:

We got back home in the afternoon. I couldn’t remember it, but I think I had never had a day like that with Jonathan.

It surprised me how much I enjoyed spending time with him. If I could say it out loud, I’d admit that I felt… happy.

Maybe this body swap experience wouldn’t just change us physically, but also as a family.

Narrator:

Days went by, and the relationship between Kirk and Jonathan seemed to have stabilized. Despite the strangeness of the situation, both had found a certain harmony. However, Kirk hadn't abandoned his obsession with the machine. He spent hours adjusting it, trying to find a way to reverse the exchange.

One night, Jonathan decided to go down to the basement to help him. Kirk had carefully selected the age and body type Jonathan had before, making sure everything was programmed correctly.

But then, the unexpected happened.

Kirk was inside the machine, making the final configurations, when it suddenly began to activate on its own.

"Watch out!" Jonathan shouted, running toward the controls to stop the process.

But it was too late. The machine hummed with an intensity it had never shown before. Blinding lights filled the basement, and suddenly, Kirk began to change.

His body trembled, his features shifted, his bone structure adjusted. Jonathan watched in horror as his father grew younger right before his eyes.

When the machine finally shut down, the new Kirk stumbled out.

But he was no longer the same Kirk.

He was young. A 20-year-old guy, with the same physique Jonathan had possessed before the first exchange.

Jonathan felt a chill run down his spine. Now, their ages had been reversed. Kirk was the young one, and Jonathan… the adult.

The roles of father and son had completely collapsed.

Kirk:

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing in the mirror. That body… it wasn’t mine. Or at least, it hadn’t been for decades. It had the physique that used to belong to Jonathan. I swallowed hard. —“This isn’t me,” I murmured, feeling strangely out of place in something that felt so... right.

I was barely processing what was happening when I heard the machine spark and shut down for good. —“Shit,” Jonathan blurted out, and I could hear the panic in his voice.

I tried to stay calm. I spoke firmly, even though I was nervous too. We had to fix this, yes—but… did I really want to fix it so quickly? I suggested we work on the machine over the summer. We had time.

He didn’t say much and went upstairs to grab some clothes. When he returned, he brought some of his old clothes, now perfectly suited to my new body. He handed them to me without hesitation. His gesture surprised me. Just like I had dressed him when it was his turn to change, now he was returning the favor.

We looked at each other for a few seconds. There was something strange in the air. I guess we were both thinking it: our roles had been reversed. Now it felt like he was the adult, and I was the son.

Jonathan broke the silence with a joke: —“So now I have to punish you if you don’t do your homework?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, though it came out a little awkward. I didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or amused.

We sat in the living room to think about what we’d do if this couldn’t be reversed. He talked about his mom, about his girlfriend… I just thought about how I felt. To be honest with myself, I didn’t mind staying like this. I didn’t say it out loud, of course, but deep down… I loved it.

Night fell, and with a fake yawn, I said I was sleepy. In truth, I just wanted to be alone for a while.

I went up to Jonathan’s room and took his pajamas. I put them on, entered the bedroom, closed the door… and looked at myself in the mirror. I paused. Took a good look. My reflection didn’t show a middle-aged man, but a twenty-year-old guy, full of energy, strength… and a new chance.

I threw myself onto the bed, laughing like a teenager. For years I had dreamed of this. Years imagining what it would be like to have this body again. And now, finally, I did.

I had achieved the impossible. And even if the world didn’t know it… I did.

Jonathan:

Kirk went to bed early, and as soon as I saw his door close, I went out for a run. I had to stay in shape. This body—the one that used to be his—needed discipline and consistency. After a few kilometers and a workout, I came back sweating and a bit more clearheaded.

I headed straight to the basement, intending to keep working on the machine. I turned it on. The lights flickered. The motor vibrated, but… nothing. It wouldn’t start. I hit the metal casing in frustration and cursed. It felt like everything I knew had been turned upside down.

Now I was 45 years old. A machine had changed our lives. I had discovered my father’s secrets. And the strangest part… he was now my age.

I went upstairs to make some tea and try to relax. The silence in the house was thick, as if everything that had happened couldn’t quite fit within the walls.

When I got to the room I used to sleep in, I found Kirk—or rather, the new Kirk—sound asleep in my old bed. I guess it was my turn to use his room now. Everything was starting to feel more real… more permanent.

Once in bed, I chatted with my girlfriend for a bit. Though “girlfriend” didn’t really sound the same anymore. Our relationship had been falling apart since all of this began. I sent her a short message. I ended it. I didn’t have the energy to explain.

I closed my eyes and sighed.

In the morning, I showered and went downstairs to make breakfast. It was already a bit late. While I was cooking, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

Kirk appeared, smiling, fresh, full of youthful energy.

“How’d you sleep?” I asked, a bit sarcastic.

“It was the best rest I’ve had in years!” he answered excitedly.

I just smiled in silence while serving him breakfast.

It hadn’t even been 24 hours since his “rejuvenation” and he was already completely comfortable in his new body. With a half-smile, he said:

“If you want, you can call me Dad.”

I almost choked on my toast.

“What?”

“I’m just saying… maybe we could try living this out a bit. Switch roles, see things from a new perspective. Maybe that way we can understand each other better.”

I paused. I was exhausted, confused. But deep down, I also wanted to fix things between us.

“Alright… but only if you call me ‘Captain J,’” I said with a smile, using the nickname I had always dreamed my dad would give me when we played together.

Kirk burst out laughing.

“Captain J! I like it.”

“Go get changed. We’re working out together today.”

He nodded and ran up the stairs, excited like a teenager again.

I just stood there, watching him go. Maybe this craziness could lead to something good after all.

Narrator:

During the rest of the summer, the new Jonathan and Kirk made the most of their unexpected exchange. Kirk, with his renewed youth, allowed himself to experience many things he once believed were beyond his reach. Jonathan, for his part, took the role of father very seriously. The role reversal, though improbable and strange, seemed to strengthen the bond between them.

As summer came to an end, reality began to weigh in once again. Only a few weeks remained before Jonathan had to return home, and the need to return to normal became more pressing. Jonathan worked more and more on the machine. Ironically, now he was the one trying to fix the device that had changed their lives.

One day, finally, the machine started working again. Jonathan was the first to step in. He paused in front of it for a moment, looking one last time at the muscular body he had learned to inhabit. He promised himself that one day, he would achieve that physique on his own. With a nostalgic smile, he undressed, entered the data, and stepped into the capsule.

The sensors lit up, the records were accepted, and slowly, the signs of the adult body began to fade. The chest hair, the beard, the muscles… everything regressed, returning to its original 20-year-old form.

When the capsule opened, Jonathan was himself again: young, slim, clean-faced. He quickly covered himself and, without wasting time, entered Kirk’s coordinates.

Kirk arrived in silence. He looked at the machine, touched his torso one last time, contemplating those biceps he had learned to love… though deep down, he didn’t want to say goodbye to them. He didn’t say much. He just took a deep breath, undressed, and stepped in.

The transformation was slower. Youth gave way to a heavier, less firm figure. His hair, thick and shiny in the younger body, began to fall out gradually. His back curved slightly, and the muscles faded away.

Kirk stepped out of the capsule. Old again. Tired. And above all, sad.

“Good night, Jonathan,” he said, without looking directly at him.

He went back to his original room without another word.

And so, summer was almost over… but the story between them still had something left unfinished.

kirk:

I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling as if it held the answers. My body felt heavier than before… not just because of the years that had returned to it, but because of the nostalgia. Being young again… it had been something magical. Feeling energy, strength, hope. It reminded me what it was like to live without pain or routine. I liked it. Not just because of the physique, but because of what it symbolized.

And also… Jonathan.

Over these past weeks, something changed between us. He, in the role of father, was firm but kind, protective, even funny. It fit him. I felt cared for, listened to, and for the first time in a long while, loved. Not as an adult carrying guilt, but as someone who could simply be.

I couldn’t deny it: I wanted it back. I wanted Jonathan to return to that 45-year-old body and continue being… my father. Was it weird? Maybe. But something inside me longed for it.

How was I supposed to ask him? How would I explain that I was willing to leave my adult life behind just to keep that bond? And besides… how would we explain this to his mother?

While I was lost in thought, I heard the door softly open.

Jonathan:

Kirk hadn’t seemed the same since he came out of the machine. He was more distant, withdrawn… like something inside him hurt deeply. I understood. I felt like something was missing too.

Those weeks had been… strange, yes, but wonderful. I never thought a body swap could mean so much. I never imagined that pretending to be his father would make me connect with him on such a deep level. For the first time, I felt like I had a real, functional family… even if the roles were completely reversed.

And even though it might sound weird, part of me wanted to do it again. Or at least, not let it go so soon.

I picked up the phone and called Mom. I told her I wanted to stay longer with Kirk. That I wanted to study here. She was surprised, of course, but she agreed. She said she trusted me, that if it felt right, I should do it.

I hung up.

And without another thought, I went to find Kirk in his room.

Kirk:

The door opened softly. Jonathan walked in with a steady step, but with that look of someone who doesn’t know where to start. He broke the ice with a simple, “Did I wake you?” and I shook my head. I knew something serious was coming.

He sat next to me and, without beating around the bush, told me he had spoken with his mother, that he’d told her he wanted to stay and live with me, that he planned to study here. I didn’t know what to say at first… it caught me off guard. Did he really want to stay? With me?

Then he got straight to the point: he confessed that he had enjoyed the body swap. That he wanted to experience it again. I felt a shiver run through me. Deep down I was excited… Could it be that he also missed being in that adult body—with strength, presence, power?

I told him no, at least at first. That it was crazy, that he was about to give up more than 25 years of his life. That he still had so much to live for, that I had already been through all of that. But he didn’t stop.

He confessed that he had liked the role of being a dad… even pretending to be my partner. As strange as it sounded. I swallowed hard. That threw me off. But it also touched me.

Jonathan:

I spoke honestly. I told him those weeks had been different, yes, but also the most human, real, and alive I had ever felt. That I wanted us to try again. That if it didn’t work, we could always go back to our original forms.

Kirk still had doubts. He asked what would happen if I needed to see Mom. I promised him I would fix the machine as many times as necessary. That we’d find a way. I just wanted this second chance with him—to live what we never had.

Finally, he agreed.

Narrator:

They both went down to the basement. The machine was still crackling, still operational. Kirk was the first to step inside. Jonathan entered the data, the desired age, the physical profile.

Kirk took off his clothes and stepped in without hesitation. The transformation was quick: his hair became denser and shinier, his torso became defined, the muscles returned, the skin tightened. He coughed as he stepped out, as if his body needed a moment to adjust. Jonathan, now ready, handed him the clothes he had worn during those weeks. Kirk put them on without saying a word, his expression a mix of excitement and nerves.

Then it was Jonathan's turn.

Kirk carefully entered the information. And when Jonathan stepped out of the machine, he was back to that mature man, attractive, with a beard, chest hair, and distinguished gray hairs. An adult with presence. Kirk handed him his previous clothes—the ones he had worn as an adult—and Jonathan put them on.

When Kirk saw him, he smiled and said sincerely:

"Welcome back, dad."

Jonathan, still a little moved, responded with a crooked smile:

"Thanks, tiger... or son."

Kirk blushed a little and laughed.

"It's time to sleep," Jonathan ordered firmly. "Tomorrow we'll visit the university where you'll study."

Kirk nodded, and his excitement was impossible to hide.

Jonathan:

I never imagined that such a strange summer would completely change our lives. Several months have passed since that second exchange, and I don't regret anything.

Now, as an adult man, I decided to take responsibility for the family that Kirk and I formed. I started working as a trainer at a small gym downtown, and although it's not glamorous, it provides enough for me to live comfortably and feel useful. Being a single dad is a challenge, but it's also a beautiful opportunity to rebuild everything from love.

From time to time, I return to my original form to visit Mom. She never knew about the exchange, but she always greets me with a smile, proud of what she sees.

Kirk went back to university. The same one he studied at decades ago, but now with new eyes. A second chance, a new chapter. I watch him, and I can't help but feel proud. Not only for what he's achieving, but for what we are to each other now.

Tonight is special. Kirk asked me to have dinner together. He was going to introduce me to someone important.

The door opened with a soft, confident knock.

"Hey, Dad," Kirk said, entering with a fresh smile. "This is Jason, my boyfriend."

Jason extended his hand politely and with courtesy.

"Nice to meet you, Jason. It's a pleasure to have you here with us tonight," I replied with a smile. I meant it from the heart. "Kirk has told me a lot about you."

Jason smiled a little nervously.

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Holloway."

I closed the door behind them and thought about everything we'd been through. The difficult times, the strange moments... and how beautiful it was to reconnect.

End of the story.

[amendingreality]

Criminal Desires

Marcos was your average college student, he got into school on a soccer scholarship, loved the gym, would go to parties, you know the whole nine miles. That was until now. Marcos was walking down his street after practice going home when some friends were gathered in the street so he decided to say hello.

 “ Wassup! “ he said, to which his friend Thomas replied “ Haven’t seen you in forever dude, yo have you met Cesar? Hes new to the street. “ Cesar was tall, dark, he seemed to be very sweaty even though it was mid fall, and he kept looking at Marcos very weirdly. He noticed that his big arms had scabs on them all over, and a gash on his hand was still healing. 

“ Whats goin on dude? “ Marcos said, trying to break the silence. Cesar just kept looking him up and down and when his and Marcos eyes met he winked at him. Marcos was very uncomfortable if not enough the wink did it. “ Well alright, yo I’ll catch yall later, I gotta get home and get out of these clothes, see yall. “ He dabbed up Thomas and a couple of the other guys avoiding Cesar. The other guys started going the opposite direction from Marcos, when he started to walk home he felt someone grab his arm. It was Cesar.

 “ Why you grabbing me for dude? “ Marcos yelled. Cesar leaned in and said “ I want you and your fat ass. “ Cesar loosened his grip and Marcos pulled his arm back and started to jog away hurriedly. Marcos makes it home and drops his stuff off at the door, while his older brother sits on the couch watching the news. “ Yo come look at this! “ Marcos' brother said. Marcos walks over to see what he's watching. “ Earlier this week the body of a Brownsville college student was found at the site of a car crash. He was found in the passenger side but the location of the driver remains unknown at this time. “ Marcos listened dumbfounded, while his brother was intrigued. “ Can you believe this shit? No way that they weren’t criminals or something. “ 

Marcos looked at his brother then started to walk towards his room. “ There's no way of knowing for sure bro, we don’t know what the hell happened. “ Marcos said. “ I don’t know dude, motherfucker sounds dangerous to me, it's only one town over, he could be here. Hell he could be on this street. “ Marcos closed his door and from his room shouted, “ You watch too much news dude! “ Marcos plopped on his bed and just stared at his ceiling for a second, thinking about what happened. Thinking about the accident, that dude Caesars and his cuts. It all got too much and he sat up and started to take off his bracelets and other shit when he forgot he left his bag out by the front door. Marcos gets up and goes back in the living room now with his brother asleep on the couch with the news still playing. “ Pfft lazy ass. “ 

He goes to the front door to grab his bag when he discovers the door is open. He begins replaying in his mind if he had forgotten to lock the door or maybe he didn’t shut it all the way, maybe it was a gust of wind. He takes a step outside and looks around at the dark street dimly lit by the greenish hue of the street lamps. He comes back inside, closes the door, locks it, and grabs his bag and makes his way to his room. It was probably nothing he thinks he's just paranoid. After all, is the neighborhood he lives in bad? Yes but everyone likes him and his brother so no one would hurt them. He goes back to his room and sets his bag down on his bed, still uncomfortable. Partially because of something he was wearing. Recently after a soccer clete accident with another player's balls, Coach made everyone wear jock straps with cups. Marcos has never worn them so he’s still getting used to them, after all he didn’t want his balls to be crushed. That's when he notices the dirty clothes on the floor have been moved in an area he hasn’t touched yet. He stands up now feeling paranoid again, and slowly walks to his closet thinking obviously that’s where someone could be hiding. He places his hand on the door handle and takes a deep breath, and he opens it fast. No one is in his closet. He exhales in relief, when he turns around he gets punched in the face knocking him out.

 After what felt like a second but was really an hour and a half he starts to come to, now on his bed. His vision is still adjusting but he can make out a shadowy figure in the corner of his room. The figure begins to move closer to Marcos and now he is fully seen. “ Hope your beauty rests was nice, sweet cheeks. “ It was Cesar. “ What the hell are you doing in my house!? “ Marcos shouted. Cesar chuckled laughing at Marcos. “ Cute. You obviously know who I am, when I broke in I noticed you and your brother watching work on the news. And before you ask yes, I’m a criminal, and yes I’m dangerous. Unless you do as I say. “ Marcos looked at Cesar without giving a second thought and said, “ I ain’t doin shit you say, I’m calling the police, people will know if I go missing! “ 

Cesar got closer to Marcos and grabbed his face with one hand firmly and got face to face with him. “ Oh I know that, I’m not going to hurt a single fucking hair on your head, don’t worry. You're too hot to do that to. “ Marcos was wincing and struggling till Cesar let go and pushed his head backwards. “ Besides, the cops have already been called. “ Marcos was confused, why the hell would he call the cops? It doesn’t seem like hes the remorseful type. “ Why would yo- “ Cesar stopped Marcos with his finger to his lips before he could get another word in. “ Shhh, don’t speak, it's clear in our relationship I'll be the one dominating, especially the conversation. I called them to report the murders of your neighbors next door, the old couple. Yeah they’re gone. They saw me following you and recognized me from the newspaper and called the police about a suspicious man outside your home.  But luckily it won’t be known as a murder, I made it seem natural in their death. But the cops are still coming and very slowly may I add, and of course they’ll ask you questions about it. “ Marcos , still very confused, was hesitant to speak so as to not get finger squashed again. “ I can see your confused still, well you're gonna tell them you haven’t seen me. “ Marcos got really angry now that he said that. “ The fuck I am! As soon as they get here I’m finna tell them all of it. “

 Cesar chuckled and began to strip, Marcos once again grew very uncomfortable. “ What the hell are you doing! We are not fucking! I ain’t a fag! “ Marcos shouted. Cesar finally got to his underwear bulge out and looked with a very serious face at Marcos. “ For now. “ Cesar turned around with his ass to Marcos and began to crawl inside of Marcos. Marcos struggled and tried to scream as Cesar's big stinky ass feet were shoved down his throat, feeling every coarse hair on his legs in his throat. “ Don’t struggle, I’ll just enjoy it more. “ Cesar said cheekily. Marcos fell onto his back on the bed grasping his sheets while he was swallowing this man. Cesar's long thick hair thighs were making their way through with his ass in Marco’s face. 

While sliding in to make things easier Cesar ripped a long wet fart right into Marco’s face and mouth, leaving Marcos dazed and less tense. Cesar now had the hardest part to do, fitting his huge dick down in Marcos mouth, which he did after some stretching and pushing. Cesar slid all the way in, Marcos felt disoriented, there was another person inside him, changing who he was. Cesar took advantage of Marco’s vulnerable state and began adjusting himself fully. He shoved his huge feet into Marco’s stretching them to twice their size and the smell before was foul but now was far worse. Hair sprouted out of every toe and smelled as if he’d never washed them before. His legs began to thicken and hair sprouted turning his legs into two tree trunks. The hair swirled up to his ass, burning into his skin a pelt of hair around his asshole, and his ass bubbled up into two huge orbs. 

His arms grew and so did his forests of hair underneath his arms. Reeking of musk and the smell of forty grown men in the body of a nineteen year old. And of course before Cesar could forget he had to adjust his prized asset, his horse cock. Marcos already had a nice set, and if it weren’t for Cesar's sheer size he wouldn’t have to adjust it but after shoving and air thrusting his cock into Marcos cock, he was adjusted to his new nine inches. Cesar began to admire his work, sniffing his feet, feeling his face, and his favorite sticking his finger in his asshole. 

The last thing to do was to get rid of Marcos for good which shouldn’t be an issue for Cesar, he lives to do this. Cesar in Marcos rummaged around Marco’s room until he could find anything to use when he reached under the bed to find a pocket pussy. Cesar stuck his finger inside and sure enough it was used. “ At least you’ll go out doing what you loved Marcos, or should I say what we love. “ Cesar stuck his and Marcos cock into the pocket pussy, gently now that their cocks are one it is twice as sensitive. Marcos' body began to moan and he thrusted into the pussy. Cesar to make things more interesting edged the rim of his new asshole before shoving his fingers in there as he thrusted. Marcos' moans roared louder and louder as the stench in the room skyrocketed, and the sex as well. Marcos' body began to sweat profusely drenching his body in that salty liquid, marinating in all of his crevices, scenting the room. Marcos lifted his arm to his face after taking his fingers out to smell his work. 

Cesar made Marcos slobber and lick his own armpits, swishing the sweat around in his mouth and all over his face. Cesar could feel it he was close, and at this time Marcos was aware his doom was about to happen. With one last thrust and with a moan that could be hear down the block Marcos blew the biggest load ever into the pussy, overflowing it with his liquids and the old Marcos with it. Cesar now fully Marcos collapsed on the bed panting with lust and exhaust. The cum leaking out of the pussy all over his fuckstick now reeking of pure male musk and stench. Marcos rubbed it all over his sensitive tip and everywhere. He bathed himself in his cum. No where was untouched his salty spunk that he would never wash out. “ Holy fuck! I’m a sex machine. “

 He heard a knock at his door and jumped up and threw his jockstrap on and got up to answer the door. He answered the door and there was a constable and a bunch of cops outside next door. The constable looked up from his legal pad and was shocked to see Marcos in a smelly skimpy jockstrap leaving nothing for imagination. “ Uhhhh- “ was all the constable could get out. “ Sorry sir I was busy choking my fat ass cock and fingering myself before you came to the door. How can I help? “ The constable was even more floored by this. "On second thought I think we have all we need thank you. “ The constable scurried off, meanwhile Thomas ran up to him very confused and embarrassed for Marcos. “ Dude what the fuck are you doing? Why are you out here like that, and what the hell is that smell you reek?! “ Marcos grinned while licking his lips. “ Why don’t you find out sweet ass! “ Marcos grabbed Thomas inside the house and all that could be heard was the two fucking the shit out of each others brains. Luckily Thomas was a lot freakier than he led on with Marcos when he was still Marcos. And theres no worry about Marcos brother hearing the two hunks fucking. He’s been dead since Marcos went to his room the first time. But who cares, not like there’s anyone who cares enough to find out. 

Hello and Hi, I am not dead! I have been extremely swamped since I’ve graduated and college stuff now BUT I did finally finish a story for you guys I do hope you like it!! It will most likely be a hot minute till I release another story, it will most likely be on my birthday August 15th so look out for a story drop then. But please feel free to express stuff YOU yes you would like to see, dm me send photos I can always use photos. Hope you guys enjoy your horny reading! 

[amendingreality]

New Reps

Liam didn’t get why people loved the gym so much.

It was loud, it stank, and the machines looked like torture devices disguised in chrome and foam. He followed Tyler into the grungy warehouse-style gym reluctantly, already regretting the free guest pass.

“Are you sure this place isn’t some experimental government lab?” Liam asked, eyeing two identical guys spotting each other on the bench press.

Tyler just grinned. “Nope. Welcome to the shapeshift gym.”

He pointed to the big sign above the front desk:

HOUSE RULES: - Touch equipment → Become the last person who used it. - Multiple versions of a person may exist inside the gym. - Only one version may leave. - Everyone else must swap before exiting.

Liam scoffed. “That’s gotta be a joke.”

Tyler winked and said to start stretching on a yoga mat. It was brand new, so no one had used it before.

Five minutes later, Tyler used the same yoga mat—FWOOMP. In an instant, he transformed into Liam. Exact face, hair, hoodie, awkward posture. A perfect match.

The change was instant.

And suddenly… there were two Liams standing there.

One of them was him.

The other? A perfect copy, sitting casually on the yoga mat with a smirk that definitely belonged to Tyler.

“Ta-da,” said Tyler-in-Liam, standing up. His voice was now Liam’s too. “Weird, huh? You’ve got a decent spine, by the way. Super flexible.”

Liam stared at himself in horror. “That’s MY face! Dude—you’re ME!”

“Relax,” Tyler said, adjusting his now-too-baggy shorts. “It’s just a skin. Your actual body’s fine. I’m just borrowing the look.”

Liam spun around, overwhelmed.

A woman walked past him—twice. Two copies of the same woman chatting about lunch like nothing was strange. One of the treadmill runners was also standing by the water fountain, towel around his neck, like it was totally normal to be duplicated.

Tyler jogged in place in Liam’s body. “Still me up here. It’s just like changing outfits. You feel the body, though. Muscles, injuries, height, everything.”

Liam narrowed his eyes. “How do I get my body back?”

Tyler pointed to the last machine Liam had used—or anyone else who copied him had touched. “Touch something you used earlier, or something a copy of you did. It cycles back.”

Liam glanced at the leg press. “And what if someone else becomes me?”

“They’re still them,” Tyler said. “They just look like you. Act like you. It’s not mind-swapping. You’re always you.”

Liam finally gave in.

“Alright,” he muttered, walking to the pull-up bar. A tall red-haired guy had just finished a set. “I’ll try it once.”

He grabbed the bar.

FWOOMP.

Just like that—his shoulders broadened, abs tightened, his legs stretched an inch or two. His hair turned a fiery copper. He dropped down, lighter on his feet, and stared into a mirror.

He was a completely different person.

“Holy… hell,” he said, running his hands over his new face. “This guy’s HOT.”

Tyler-in-Liam cackled. “Told you. Welcome to the freak show.”

They experimented for hours.

Tyler changed into a ripped gym rat with sleeve tattoos and then into an older guy who apparently only did calf raises.

Liam became a short, stocky woman who crushed the rower, then a wiry teen who could sprint like crazy. Each time, it felt like slipping into someone else’s perfectly broken-in shoes.

Sometimes, multiple copies of the same person would end up in one corner—Liam saw three versions of the same personal trainer demoing squats together.

The whole place was like a shifting jigsaw puzzle of bodies, and everyone just… rolled with it.

Then, after Tyler spent nearly an hour body-hopping, Liam noticed something.

Tyler had left to use the bathroom—and never changed back. When he returned, he was still walking around as Liam.

“You’re not gonna go back to yourself?” Liam asked casually.

“Nah. I’ll swap again before we leave,” Tyler said, scrolling through his phone. “My quads are cramping up anyway.”

That’s when Liam made his move.

Tyler’s body was nearby—leaning casually against a bench, wiping down a machine. No one was using it.

Liam approached the equipment, heart racing. He knew the rules.

One copy could leave.

He grabbed the handles.

FWOOMP.

Broad chest. Stronger arms. Half a foot taller.

Liam looked in the mirror. Tyler’s body. His voice. His walk. His life.

And Liam wanted it—just for a little while.

Meanwhile, Tyler waited by the exit.

Still in Liam’s form, he scrolled on his phone, casually sipping from a water bottle. “Where is he?” he muttered. “We said five minutes.”

He didn’t notice the figure approaching from behind—his own original body, now with sharper posture, holding a gym bag.

“Hey, wait—” Tyler turned just as Liam (in Tyler’s body) shoved him hard.

Caught off guard, Tyler stumbled straight through the scanner.

Beep—GREEN.

The door slid open—and locked behind him.

He staggered out onto the sidewalk.

“What the hell?!”

He spun back around and slammed his fist on the glass. Inside, his body—with Liam inside—smirked back at him.

Liam gave a lazy salute and walked deeper into the gym, disappearing into the locker room.

Tyler was pissed.

Trapped in Liam’s body, sweaty and confused, while someone else walked around wearing his face. His life.

He pulled out his phone, hands trembling, and saw the lock screen.

Liam’s thumbprint.

He had nothing.

“LIAM!” he shouted at the glass, but it was too late.

The gym didn’t care who was inside.

Only one copy could leave.

Inside the gym, Liam looked down at his new arms. Tyler’s arms.

He grinned and zipped up the hoodie.

“Just for a little while,” he whispered.

He slid the phone into the pocket—Tyler’s phone now—and walked out.

Beep—GREEN.

The scanner chirped as Liam strolled through the gym’s front doors, wearing Tyler’s body like it had always belonged to him.

He stepped out onto the sidewalk just in time to hear—

“Are you kidding me?!”

Tyler was pacing furiously in Liam’s frame, red in the face, his hoodie sleeves bunched at the wrists, looking hilariously furious and wildly unfamiliar in his borrowed body.

Liam gave a slow, confident smile—the kind he never could pull off with his original face. “Hey, man. You made it out safe.”

Tyler stormed up to him. “Safe?! You shoved me out! In your scrawny-ass body!”

“Correction,” Liam said calmly, “our scrawny-ass body. You were the one still walking around in it.”

Tyler jabbed a finger into his chest—his own chest, really. “That was my body. Mine. You had no right.”

Liam didn’t flinch. “I had the opportunity.”

“You tricked me.”

“I saw a chance and I took it.”

Tyler was practically vibrating with rage. “I get it—you had fun. You played around. But you don’t get to leave in my skin, Liam! I have work tomorrow. I have a date! My face is out there, and you’re not me.”

Liam stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Exactly. I’m not you. But I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to be you. Just for a little bit. People listen to you. You walk into a room and they see you. I’m invisible half the time. And today? For the first time in my life... I felt seen.”

Tyler stared at him, jaw clenched.

“This isn’t a game,” he said. “You don’t get to cosplay as me in the real world. You’re going to mess things up. You’re going to ruin things.”

“I won’t,” Liam said softly. “I’ll take care of your life better than you do. Besides, it’s not forever. I just want... time.”

Tyler stepped back, laughing bitterly. “Wow. I bring you in to show you something cool, and you rob me blind.”

“I didn’t rob you. I left you something,” Liam said, gesturing to Tyler’s now-former frame. “You can still walk, breathe, live. You just have to... switch perspectives.”

Tyler looked down at himself—Liam’s wiry arms, smaller hands, hoodie sleeves that wouldn’t stay up. He seethed.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Liam,” he growled. “I will get back in.”

Liam nodded once. “I know.”

Then he turned and walked away—Tyler’s stride, Tyler’s confidence, Tyler’s body carrying him off into the night.

Tyler was left standing alone, trapped in the frame of his quieter, overlooked best friend.

He looked up at the glowing gym sign behind him.

His old life was still inside.

And he'd do anything to take it back.

[amendingreality]

Swapping for an A

Finals Day — 8:50 AM

The math final started at 9 AM sharp in Lecture Hall 3A. Carter strolled in early, as usual, wearing his fitted hoodie and faded jeans, a pencil behind his ear and a quiet smirk on his face. His desk was front and center, perfectly angled so he could look around the room with ease.

He had a list. A total of 23 guys had agreed to pay him $100 each to take the final in their bodies. He’d already collected the cash through Venmo the night before. No refunds. No regrets.

Carter’s power was simple: with just a touch, he could swap bodies with another guy. The catch? Each swap lasted a full 24 hours. That meant anyone he used was going to be stuck in the wrong body for the entire day. But none of them cared. Not when it meant passing math without lifting a finger.

The only problem? He couldn’t keep going back to his own body to reset. There wasn’t time. So, he’d have to hop from guy to guy, each one stuck in the body of the guy Carter had just been in.

That meant the final body — the last in the chain — would be the one Carter stayed in until tomorrow morning.

He didn’t mind. It’d be worth it.

He set his phone alarm: 30 minutes to finish his own test. 5 minutes in each new body after that. 2 hours and 30 minutes left to hop.

He cracked his knuckles and got started.

9:30 AM – Time to Hop

Carter finished his own test in record time. Folded it neatly. Turned it in. Then walked over to Santiago.

Santiago: Black, tall, skinny, famous for his perfect ass. Smart enough. Always wore tight joggers.

Carter tapped Santiago’s hand. His vision twisted, skin tingled — and suddenly, Carter was in Santiago’s body.

He wiggled in his seat. The tightness of Santiago’s pants made his new big, perky ass shift and bounce on the plastic chair. Carter blushed, turned on by how hot it felt to sit down like that.

"I need a second before I move on."

He grabbed the hall pass and slipped into the nearby bathroom, locked the biggest stall. He couldn’t resist — staring at Santiago’s long limbs, smooth dark skin, and full round butt in the mirror.

His hand slipped into the waistband. He moaned softly.

Ten minutes later, he flushed, washed his hands, and smirked.

Back in the lecture hall, he walked past the real Santiago (now in Carter’s body) who looked dazed and confused in Carter’s hoodie.

“You good, bro?”

“Uh… yeah?” Santiago said, blinking and looking at his pale hands.

Carter grinned and moved to Brady.

9:45 AM – Into Brady

Brady: White, sweet, decent build, semi-smart but awkward. He always tried to hide how attracted he was to other guys’ bodies. Carter tapped him — and suddenly he was inside Brady.

He felt Brady’s pulse quicken immediately. The moment Carter stood up in Brady’s body, he felt the awkward stiffness in the crotch of his sweatpants.

“Dude…” he whispered to himself.

Another trip to the bathroom. Brady’s body wasn’t nearly as sexy as Santiago’s, but Carter had always wondered what it’d feel like to be the sweet soft-spoken boy who had clearly fantasized about him.

Ten minutes of gentle moaning later, he zipped up and returned.

Brady, now inside Santiago, blinked like he didn’t know where he was. His ass bounced as he shuffled awkwardly to sit down — and he definitely noticed it.

10:00 AM – Body Jump Marathon

Carter moved fast, each jump taking 5 minutes now that the urge to explore was out of his system. Each new body made him stifle a laugh.

From Brady → Spencer (tall Hispanic soccer player, now in Brady’s body)

Spencer → Miles (stoned, hot, dumb, big hazel eyes)

Miles → Samuel (skinny Indian guy with a lisp)

Samuel → Kayden (nerdy, slightly chubby Asian guy)

Kayden → Maddox (short, lean, black-Hispanic basketball player)

Maddox → Jonah (athletic and secretly smart)

Jonah → Theo (short, skinny, dumb basketball player)

Theo → Landon (big, tall, overweight black guy)

Landon → Joseph (massive, white, overweight gay guy — Carter cringed at the smell)

Joseph → Mason (short, jacked, dumb)

Mason → Joel (average height, black, basketball dumb jock)

Joel → Jason (awkward Asian nerd, semi-famous for his gym boner)

Jason → Kai (massive black basketball player — muscles for days)

Kai → Andrew (dumb white guy who talked like a fake gangster)

Andrew → Simon (tall, athletic, cool Guyanese guy — finally someone calm)

Simon → Caleb (short, black, boxer, dumb as bricks)

Caleb → Max (short, lean, dumb)

Max → Maverick (average build, semi-smart)

Maverick → Calvin (light skin, tall, muscular, dumb as hell)

🧠 Reactions

Santiago (in Carter): Looks down at pale arms and an average ass, visibly confused. “Why do I feel... smaller?” Touches his face, frowns. “What the hell is happening?”

Brady (in Santiago): Glances behind, eyes widening. "Oh my god..." He does a test walk — feels the bounce. His cheeks go red. “No way this is my...?”

Spencer (in Brady): Stares at soft arms and average build. “This feels… slower. How do I even sit in these jeans?”

Miles (in Spencer): Blinks slowly, grins. “Yo... I feel fast,” he mumbles, swaying like he’s high. Then trips on the chair legs.

Samuel (in Miles): Adjusts to the tall body, grinning. “I'm hot now.” He forgets he has a lisp and repeats it proudly.

Kayden (in Samuel): Immediately touches his face. “This nose is bigger... and my tongue feels weird. Oh god, do I talk like this now?”

Maddox (in Kayden): Pokes at the new soft belly and glasses. “Bro… I got the nerd build. No bounce at all.”

Jonah (in Maddox): Rolls his shoulders, jogs in place. “Light. Fast. Damn. I could break ankles like this.”

Theo (in Jonah): Does pushups on the floor. “Ayo this dude got hops! I’m actually good now.”

Landon (in Theo): Tries to fit his big frame in the small body. “Why everything so small?! I’m like half my size!”

Joseph (in Landon): Breathes heavily just from walking. “Ugh. I thought I was getting an upgrade...”

Mason (in Joseph): Looks down at the new gut and thighs. “NOOOO! I can’t even see my toes!” Nearly cries.

Joel (in Mason): Flexes. “Yo, I’m short… but shredded.” Laughs and immediately takes off his hoodie.

Jason (in Joel): Stares at his dark, tall, athletic frame. Whispers, “Am I… cool now?”

Kai (in Jason): Screams internally. “WHERE ARE MY MUSCLES? WHY IS THIS DICK SMALL?!”

Andrew (in Kai): Laughs and slaps his own chest. “Brooooo I look hard as fuck now.”

Simon (in Andrew): Slowly backs away. “Why is everyone looking at me like I’m stupid?”

Caleb (in Simon): Tries to jog, falls, then poses. “Okay okay, I’m handsome now.”

Max (in Caleb): Throws fake punches and shouts “I’M A BOXER, BITCHES!”

Maverick (in Max): Sits down, muttering. “Damn… I’m loud. And short. And kinda dumb.”

Calvin (in Maverick): Looks down at his soft stomach and thicker thighs. “Wait... why I feel slow?” He rubs his chest — no pecs. No abs. He lifts his shirt and screams, “YO! WHO STOLE MY MUSCLES?! Where my sexy go!?”

Carter (in Calvin): Flexes. Watches Brady adjust to Santiago’s juicy ass. Grins. “This is the best $2,300 I ever made.”

Emergency Bro Meeting – “Operation Don’t Get Expelled”

1:30 PM – Outside Lecture Hall 3A

The final had ended. Twenty-four guys stood in a tight circle behind the student union, all of them sweaty, twitchy, or confused as hell — and not a single one in their own body.

At the center was Carter, now in Calvin’s outrageously muscular light-skinned body. His broad chest stretched the seams of the black compression tee. Veins popped in his forearms as he lifted his hands to speak.

Carter (in Calvin): “Alright. Shut up. Everyone, just shut the hell up and listen.”

Everyone went quiet.

Brady (in Santiago’s juicy ass body) shifted uncomfortably, glancing at his reflection in the window behind Carter.

Joseph (in Landon’s huge body) was breathing hard.

Kai (in Jason’s tiny awkward nerd body) was still muttering, “I can’t do this, bro. I got math hands now.”

Carter: “Yes, you’re in the wrong body. No, I’m not going to fix it right now. You paid for this, and I held up my end. Every single one of you passed that test. I made sure.”

A few guys nodded — especially Spencer (in Brady) and Miles (in Spencer), both still disoriented.

“The swap lasts 24 hours. That means you are stuck like this until tomorrow morning.”

Groans. Cursing. Joseph sat down with a thud.

Carter (firmly): “You’re going to act like whoever’s body you’re in. If anyone finds out something’s off — any professor, RA, coach, anyone — this could go public. And if it does? I’m expelled. You’re expelled. Some of you will be arrested for identity fraud. Not kidding.”

That shut them up.

Carter: “So here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m setting up a group chat. Everyone drops their name — your real name — and then the name of the body you’re in.”

“Then we each post a few things:

What your schedule is for today

Where you live

Who you’re supposed to be hanging out with

Anything weird about your family, job, allergies, girl, or... dude.”

That made Brady (in Santiago) look up quickly and glance at Carter.

Carter: “Trust me. You do not want to get caught pretending to be someone else’s boyfriend. Or someone else’s son.”

He pulled out Calvin’s massive phone — password was just “6969” — and started a group text under the name:

🌀 “Swap Squad – DON’T GET US EXPELLED”

One by one, people started to chime in.

📱 GROUP CHAT LOG (Highlights)

Carter (in Calvin): Carter → Calvin Schedule: Gym @ 4PM. No class. Lives in Towers 4C. Doesn’t use lotion. Do NOT try to sound smart. Important: Calvin has a hot situationship with a cheerleader named Brooklyn. She’ll text. She thinks he’s dumb and hot. Just go with it.

Santiago (in Carter): Santiago → Carter Schedule: Library 2PM with TA. Office hours at 5. Lives in West Dorm B. Important: Carter is tutoring 2 guys today. One of them is Coach’s son. Don’t mess that up.

Brady (in Santiago): Brady → Santiago No clue what this body does, but I think I just bounced walking. I live in Floor 3 of Centennial. I think I’m supposed to meet a guy named Terrance later? Someone DM me fast.

Kayden (in Samuel): Kayden → Samuel I talk weird now. LISP. This is hard. Also, Samuel’s roommate is a huge Marvel nerd and talks nonstop. Help.

Calvin (in Maverick): uhhhhhh Calvin → Maverick how do i log in i can’t find my muscles this phone slow af

Miles (in Spencer): stoned rn but feelin athletic seb got legs for days no plans, i think. just vibes

More messages came in rapid-fire. Some guys started comparing body quirks:

Joseph (in Landon): “My knees make a cracking sound when I sit. Is that normal or did I break this dude??”

Jason (in Joel): “Does this body... always flex in the mirror or is that just me?”

Kai (in Jason): “YALL I GOT A BONER FROM A BREEZE I HATE THIS”

📢 Carter’s Final Rules

Carter raised his massive hand again — easy now in Calvin’s hulking form — and looked around the circle.

“No one goes rogue.” “No one tries to swap with anyone else.” “No one hooks up with someone unless you're SURE that’s who they’re expecting.” “We meet again tomorrow. 9 AM. Right here. Don’t be late.”

He took a deep breath, cracking Calvin’s thick neck.

“And if anything goes wrong — if someone’s about to blow it — text the group. Say: ‘BRO DOWN’ and we’ll come up with a cover.”

Everyone nodded. Some slower than others. Andrew (in Kai) was just now realizing how dumb he sounded out loud.

🎭 Operation: Stay in Character Begins

As the group broke up and scattered across campus, things began to unravel almost immediately.

Brady (in Santiago) nervously adjusted joggers that didn’t fit and walked like he had a stack of books between his cheeks.

Calvin (in Maverick) waddled toward his dorm, moaning about “cardio.”

Carter (in Calvin) hit the gym early, already excited to test the limits of Calvin’s perfect body — and see who noticed.

[amendingreality]

Me and my buddy get along well but I don’t have a father and for some reason I feel like I look up to him. He’s a brunette hockey player who really cares about his body and tracks all of his cals. Any way you could spike one of his beers and give me the best exjock dad ever?

“Let’s go!” Your bro throws down his game controller and looks over at you. His confident smile adorning his handsome, angular face, “I used that same move on the ice the other day.” His clear excitement is infectious and you can’t help but smile.

It was another one of your usual game nights with your bro. The two of you sitting on the couch, controllers in hand, playing some hockey videogame. And even though he always seemed to win, you just enjoy the moment. Your friendship started out when you were younger- the two of you meeting in grade school. And as the years went on, you grew closer. You’d go to his hockey games and cheer him on. He’d fill in as that male role model you needed. When you went to college, he’d continue playing hockey, while you focused on your studies. But you continued to enjoy each other’s company. But this was your last year, and he planned to move across the country. The very thought was painful. Losing him would be tough.

“Hey, you good?” He asks, “I told you I wasn’t going easy.”

You smile, “I was wondering,” You begin, “I know you don’t like beer...”

“Gotta keep these toned.” He says, running a hand down his exposed abs.

“But it’s bro night.” You continue, “I got some special beers for us.”

He seems to consider the offer. Part of him looking a bit apprehensive. After all, he spent much of his time focusing on maintaining his body. His lean muscles and thicc hockey butt were all products of his careful diet and dedicated workouts. But he could tell it would mean a lot to you. He nods slowly.

“One won’t hurt.” He says with a grin, “Cheers to another game night.”

Part of you feels relieved. Another part of you feels somewhat apprehensive. If the man you bought this beer from was telling you the truth... well, you didn’t know what to think. It was probably some prank anyway, and you probably wasted the money. You hand him a solo cup with the beer in it.

“To bro night.” He smiles and takes a sip of the beer, “You know, I’m gonna miss this.” You feel a pang of sadness in your chest, “But we’ll always be bros.”

You nod, taking in his words. Feeling a sense of impending loss. Wishing you could just enjoy these moments forever.

“I’m gonna miss this too... dad.”

He looks over at you and raises an eyebrow, “What did you just call me?” He chuckles.

And you can see it. A few hairs starting to emerge from his once clean-shaven face. A few greys appearing in his brunette locks. Was it true? Was this stuff really going to do what the man said it would?

“Nothing, dad.”

And as the words leave your lips, your buddy groans. His youthful skin starts to lose its glow. A few wrinkles appear on his forehead. And the hair on his face sprouts into a full beard. His hands rush to scratch his new facial hair and his eyes widen.

“Bro, what the hell...” He whispers, “Something’s wrong...”

“What do you mean, dad?”

You watch as his brunette locks begin to recede and his tan vanishes. All the while, small, itchy hairs start to sprout from your buddy’s chest and abs. At this point, he stands up and runs his hands down his new body hair. There’s a look of disgust and confusion on his face, and you can’t help but feel bad for him. After all, he did pride his clean-shaven look.

“You keep calling me dad.” He says, staring at you, “And now...” He catches a glimpse of his receding hairline and aged skin in the mirror, “Bro, please. Whatever you’re doing, you gotta fuckin’ stop.”

You could tell he was getting angry. But you were still marveling over the effects of this drink. You couldn’t believe it was actually working.

“Bro, are you even listening to me?” He says, “Please! You can’t...”

“Sorry dad.” You reply, putting even more emphasis on “dad.”

The effects are more dramatic. Your buddy lets out a pained moan and falls to his knees, gripping his abs. You can see tears fall from his eyes as he realizes his firm abs are feeling softer. And in only a few moments, his abs are covered by a thick layer of fat. And another. And another. And although your buddy is too busy squeezing his new flabby stomach, you can see his pecs fill with fat and sag, resting atop his new gut.

“This can’t be...” He winces at his new, gravelly voice, “Oh god, I sound so old.” He looks up at you, tears still staining his eyes, “Dude, come on... please... I can’t be this.”

A part of you feels bad, even guilty. Your friend’s anger replaced by fear. His confidence shattered. His toned physique truly replaced by that of a middle-aged dad. Part of you wants to reverse this. But you don’t even know how.

“I...” You bite your lip, “Look, I don’t even know if I can undo this, dad.”

Your buddy shuts his eyes and shakes as the short hairs erupt into longer follicles. You watch as a forest of hairs emerge from under his shorts and travel down his legs. His new gut and soft chest are covered in a forest of gray and dark hairs. And you realize now there’s nothing left of your old buddy, at least physically. His receding hairline, gray hairs, gut, and hirsute form all scream middle-aged dad. He slowly stands up, wincing at a pain in his lower back and knees, as he becomes more familiar with his new age.

“Dude...” He whispers, “What did you do?” You can hear the anger return to his voice.

“I didn’t want to lose you, bro.” You say, “And I’ve always looked up to you. And truthfully, I’ve always wanted a dad and the beer promised it could do that. Just as long as I called whoever drank it dad.” Your friend looks shocked and picks up the solo cup.

“Good one dude.” He laughs, “Okay, okay you got me. Maybe if I drink the beer and you call me bro or something, I can return to normal.” He says hopefully, “I promise we can forget all about this.” The desperation starts to creep back into his voice, “Just... please I don’t want this.” He begs.

You’re not a bad person. You even feel a bit guilty. And part of you even wants to do as he suggests. But another thought enters your head. Would he be able to forget all about this? Would he forgive you? You bite your lip and sigh.

“I’m sorry,” You can see his eyes widen in terror, “Dad.”

He drops the beer in his hand, causing the beer inside to spray everywhere. His eyes glaze over and his jaw goes slack. A part of you worries for a moment, but slowly he smiles. There’s no evidence of concern on his face.

“Ah sorry, I spaced out there for a second.” He chuckles, “Looks like I made a mess.” He goes to bend over to pick up the cup, but winces, “Damn back’s been acting up.”

“Don’t worry dad.” You say as he sits back down on the couch, “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m good, I’m good.” He reassures, “Come on, we have to finish our game.” He says with a grin, grabbing the game controller, “You know, I was quite the hockey player back in my day. Well before this.” He chuckles, patting his beer gut.

“I know.” You reply, sitting next to him, “You tell me all the time.” The two of you start to play, and you immediately notice his videogame skills are not where they used to be. But you’re enjoying this moment- going on as if nothing changed.

“Look at that!” He cheers when he scores a goal, “I told you not to take it easy on me, son.”

You go to reply but you feel a warmth coarse through your body. You quickly shake your head and return to the game. And only a few minutes later, he scores another goal.

“You doing okay there, son?” He asks.

And again, you feel a warmth coarse through your body. You look down at the controller and can’t help but notice that your forearms look a bit thicker- your hands meatier. You shake your head and look up at your dad.

“Uh, I’m good dad.” Your voice even sounds deeper- somewhat dumb too, “I-I gotta go to my room.”

You stumble towards your room, feeling somewhat off balance. Entering your room, you’re immediately hit by the smell of intense BO. The same way your bro would smell after a hockey game. There’s gear on your bed and random posters of hockey players on your walls. You barely have time to comprehend what’s going on, when you hear your dad’s voice.

“Hey son, are you okay?”

You groan as your muscles begin to contract violently and your shirt tears from your growing musculature. You can see yourself in the mirror- abs, thicc ass, and lean muscles- the body of a hockey player. And you realize that you’re becoming your dad’s ideal son. Somehow, the beer that splashed on you had the same effects as drinking it.

“Wait dad!” You call out, wincing at the oafish jock-like tone that saturates your words, “Please...!”

“Son?” He asks opening the door.

And your eyes glaze over. Your jaw goes slack. And you feel your mind warping and changing. Any memories you had of your old life or self are being forced into the very back of your mind- all to make room for your new existence as a smelly, ripped, hockey jock. Your dad’s perfect son.

“God it reeks in here.” Your dad laughs, patting you on the back, “Must be workin’ hard out there.”

“You fuckin’ know it.” You reply, eyes dull, “It’s gonna be a good game tomorrow, pops.”

“You learned from the best, champ.” He smiles, “Now come on, we got a game to finish.” You smile, “I want to show you one of my favorite moves. Worked every time. Maybe you can try it out on the ice tomorrow.”

“For sure, pops.”

You follow your dad back to the couch. The two of you playing videogames late into the night, filling the air with boisterous cheers as you played. You couldn’t have asked for a better dad. And he couldn’t have asked for a better son.

[amendingreality]

Obsession

Ohh yes, just thinking about getting older with this sexy body makes me hard

Let me tell you how I ended up in this twink’s body.

I live in a departmental complex near the local university, most of the guests are students who attend that school. I don’t usually catch my attention to boys so young, I consider them immature and irresponsible... however, I can’t help but look with great envy how they waste their lives, see how the owners of the world think they are and do things at will, I would give anything to have the opportunity to be young again and live that stage again.

I have seen too many boys come and go in and out of my building, many of them had a dream body that made me think about them all day. However, none awakened in me the obsession that Blerick did achieve.

Blerick arrived one morning days before starting the semester, a boy with a white complexion, gray eyes, with an innocent face and a delicious body (in my eyes) not so muscular but not so thin, he was perfect. The moment I saw him, I felt something I had never felt before, an inexplicable desire to be with him, to know about his life and be part of it.

As the days went by I learned his routine, I knew his class schedule, what time he went to the gym and whenever I could I watched him in the distance without him noticing, his way of walking, the clothes he wore, who he hung out with, everything he did drove me crazy, many times I spied on him just when he arrived from the gym with that characteristic smell that he emitted, his perfume mixed with his sweat, just smelling that aroma drove me crazy. I imagined myself several times being him, talking with his voice, waking up in the morning and the first thing I see is his beautiful face, making gestures and that he reflected in the mirror returned them to me. I even imagined being fucked in his body, because yes, Blerick was very popular with boys although he always denied everything since he did not want to be classified as very easy.

One afternoon after my typical routine of spying on him I decided to masturbate thinking about him, remembering the aroma that passed in front of me minutes before because Blerick arrived from the gym, my intensity was so great that it didn’t last long and I came after a few minutes, the strange thing was that I not only expelled semen but also something else... my soul. I couldn’t believe what was happening, at first I felt a terrible fear when I thought that I couldn’t go back to my body, which was motionless in bed, but after thinking a little about things because I wanted to return to my body, I should take advantage of the opportunity and try to get a better one and there was no better option than Blerick. So I went to his apartment and went in.

I found Blerick asleep, he was lying on the couch after a long day of school and gym. Don’t hesitate for a moment and my soul pounced on his defenseless body. I thought it would be more difficult but after a few minutes I managed to have total control of him and I was able to wake up.

I felt completely different, tired yes but full of vitality, I felt lighter, taller, stronger, I looked at my hands and they were totally different, I couldn’t help but go to the bathroom and admire my reflection in the mirror.

Shit, I heard my new voice for the first time... I’m really Blerick, I’m in his body.

I couldn’t believe what I saw, in front of me was the boy of my dreams, with the smell so characteristic that it drove me crazy and the best was all mine. I took off my shirt to admire the body that drove me crazy and ran my hands all over my body feeling the softness of my skin, I took some photos to remember the moment, the moment when I was finally Blerick.

Fortunately for you it’s not the end of the story.

I decided to take an express shower, I didn’t want to waste a minute and I came up with an idea, I was curious to know what had happened to my previous body, so I left my new apartment and went to the old one. Fortunately for me my previous body was still motionless in bed, I wasn’t sure if it had died or if Blerick was inside but the truth is I didn’t care what happened, I had the body I had dreamed of so much and I didn’t plan to let it go. I took some clothes from my previous life and dressed in them.

Shit, I look fucking good and look, what a good ass I have now, surely Blerick won’t mind if I use it, anyway it’s no longer his so he shouldn’t be interested in what I do with my body.

I felt a lump grow in the middle of my legs just by seeing myself in the mirror. So it was time to get to know my new tool, I pulled down my pants and I could see a not insignificant cock of good size. I gave myself a few pulls while moaning with my sexy voice: ah yes Blerick, that’s how I like it, I didn’t know you were so sensitive much less that you were hiding all this but don’t worry that I’ll know how to use it very well.

I put two fingers in my ass and started in and out which made me moan even more, I knew that Blerick was an insatiable whore and finally confirmed it, I was so horny that I needed to feel something inside me. That’s when I remembered my previous body on the bed. It would be strange for you to fuck yourself, yes, but I wasn’t that person anymore, I was just Blerick so I shouldn’t care.

I approached the bed and began to touch his penis which to my surprise reacted, I decided to suck that cock for a few minutes and without thinking twice I sat on it, feeling how my ass was pierced for the first time was a unique experience, I moaned with my whore voice and began to go up and down while enjoying all this.

I turned to the mirror and saw a scene that I never thought would happen, it was me being in Blerick’s body being fuck, not even in all my fantasies I felt as much pleasure as the one I was feeling now, it was simply indescribable. That scene was enough for me to cum and the amount of semen that came out was very abundant, I took some with my fingers and tasted it; very delicious a flavor appropriate for this body. I continued riding and after a short time my previous body ended up inside me and I left all its seed inside me.

I decided that it was time to go home and start my new life in this sexy body, so I dressed with the first thing I saw and went out to enjoy this life, with Blerick’s body I could achieve what I wanted.

“I’ll see you later handsome” I said to myself in the mirror while he threw me a kiss and left the house

[amendingreality]

Body Suit Shopping (Pt. 2)

It’s been a year since that day in the bodysuit shop. I still remember how excited Asher was, slipping into that older body, calling himself ‘Dad’ like he’d been waiting for the role his whole life. I can’t lie—I was loving it too, especially those first few months. We both dove headfirst into our new lives. Him, strutting around as the older, wiser version of himself, owning that salt-and-pepper beard and the lines around his eyes like he’d earned them. And me, living in a body that most guys could only dream of—smooth, muscular, and young, with abs that popped and a jawline that could cut glass.

Asher loved everything about being the ‘dad,’ especially the respect and authority that came with it. It wasn’t just the body he enjoyed—it was the life, the way people looked at him differently, listened to him in ways they hadn’t before. It suited him more than I ever imagined it would.

And I enjoyed mine too… mostly. That body was a dream, but it wasn’t perfect. After a while, I started to notice the little things. The tattoo on my forearm—it was just off. I didn’t like the design; it felt too loud for me, not something I would’ve chosen for myself. And then there was the hairlessness. At first, it was fun, having that smooth, flawless skin, but over time, I missed the way my old body used to be—a little rougher, with a bit of scruff on my chest and forearms. This new body was sexy, sure, but it wasn’t me.

I tried to ignore my concerns, but they just never went away. Don’t get me wrong—I had no desire to return to my old body. In this younger hunk, I could get with whoever I wanted—older daddies, younger twinks, anyone I set my sights on. A body like this gave me power, attention, and confidence in ways I never imagined. But what could I do when it didn’t feel like me?

That’s why I decided to go back to the bodysuit store. The shopkeeper recognized me right away, probably saw that familiar mix of excitement and frustration in my eyes. I told him I was looking for something new—a hunk that fit my personality a bit better. We went through the options, flipping through catalogs of sculpted bodies, but none of them stuck out to me. They were all perfect, but maybe too perfect, too polished. I needed something else, something more me.

That’s when I asked the shopkeeper, “What if I wanted a bodysuit made from someone I know?” He said it was possible, but with a catch—the person would have to give up their body entirely, and he’d seal them into a new suit permanently. That got me thinking. There had to be a way where someone didn’t need to lose their life for that to happen.

That’s when the idea hit me: Asher. I could ask him for his body—after all, it was literally made from me, my own DNA, and I thought, what could feel more like me than my own son’s body?

Convincing him wasn’t easy. He loved his new life and body, and he was excited for us to stay in these suits long-term back when I'd first suggested it. But deep down, I think he enjoyed knowing he still had the option to swap back if he ever wanted to. I used that.

I started with what I knew would work: flattery. "Look at you," I said, watching him stand a little taller. "You’ve turned into a complete silver fox. The way people look at you now? It’s different, isn’t it? You walk into a room and everyone listens. You’ve got that dad confidence, and it’s sexy as hell." I could tell he was enjoying it. "You own this body like it was always yours."

He grinned, clearly agreeing. I kept going. "But think about your old body for a second. You were a total hunk—young, muscular. You remember how people used to stare at you, right? That body of yours was built for attention." I leaned in a bit, my voice dropping. "That’s why I want it. It shouldn’t be locked away forever. Let me live in it, show it off. I could appreciate it in ways you’ve outgrown."

I could see him thinking it over, but he wasn’t fully convinced yet. So I pushed a little harder, playing on his ego. "I think deep down, you want this to be permanent. You’ve already settled into this new life—you’ve become him."

He looked at me, a little surprised by my confidence, but I wasn’t wrong. I smirked, knowing exactly what buttons to press. "Imagine this—your old body still out there, still getting all the attention, maybe even more now. Guys coming over to rail it—think you’d get off on watching it happen. Hell, maybe you’d even join in." That suggestion clearly intrigued him.

He hesitated for a moment, thinking it over, but I could tell the idea of making it permanent was starting to excite him. After a pause, he finally nodded, a smirk crossing his face. He agreed.

From the second I slipped on the newly made bodysuit, I knew I’d made the right choice. I hadn’t seen this body in over a year, and damn, I’d forgotten just how great it really was—it didn’t disappoint. The moment I looked in the mirror, it all came rushing back. He had the perfect amount of hair, just the right balance between smooth and scruffy. His abs were carved like they were out of stone, each muscle popping in a way that made the body seem almost unreal. The biceps were massive, and his face? It always turned heads, no matter where he went. I couldn’t believe he ever wanted to give this up to become an older daddy, but I wasn’t about to complain.

As I flexed in front of the mirror, admiring how naturally the body fit me, I couldn’t help but think, Maybe I should ask the shopkeeper to make this my permanent body too. I mean, if Asher’s making his swap permanent, why shouldn’t I? This body was made for attention, made for admiration, and the way it moved, the power it had—it felt right. It felt me. I ran a hand over the taut skin of my abs and grinned.

No more doubts, no more second-guessing. This was going to be perfect.

[amendingreality]

Body Suit Shopping

Just reposting to Tumblr. Read the original story here.

"Are you sure you want this bodysuit?" I asked Asher, my son, raising an eyebrow as I looked him over. He was standing in front of the mirror, examining himself in a bodysuit that looked decades older than I was. I couldn’t help but be surprised—at his age, I would have picked something younger, stronger, more muscular. But he seemed perfectly content with his choice, a body well past its prime.

"This one’s perfect," Asher said, his voice steady as he admired his reflection. He ran his hands over the smooth, bald head, his face lighting up with a satisfied grin. The sight of him in this older form, with a weathered face and sturdy build, was so at odds with the fit, youthful appearance he could have chosen. But there he was, running his hands down the length of his new beard, clearly loving every moment of it.

"Alright, if that’s what you want," I finally said, still a bit perplexed but willing to support him. Turning to the shopkeeper, I asked, "How much for the suit?"

The man behind the counter eyed Asher’s new form for a second, then shifted his gaze back to me with a smile. "Tell you what, I've been trying to get rid of that suit for a while now. If you buy a suit for yourself, I’ll throw his in for free."

I hesitated for a moment. The idea of having a bodysuit of my own, a chance to experience a younger, fitter body, was tempting. I scanned the options in the store, and one suit immediately caught my attention. Without wasting time, I grabbed it and rushed into the fitting room, eager to try it on.

As I slid into the suit and adjusted it, I could feel the transformation. Looking in the mirror, I was taken aback by the man staring back at me—a much smoother, hairless chest, bigger pecs, and a sharp, square jawline. I flexed my arm and marveled at the thick bicep that bulged under my skin. It was like being handed a whole new identity, a body built for admiration.

Feeling the strength and tightness of this new physique, I couldn’t help but let my hands roam lower. My fingers brushed across my flat, sculpted stomach and further down until I reached the uncut cock hanging between my legs. The sensation was overwhelming. I had never experienced anything quite like it—so raw, so different.

I stood there in front of the mirror, stroking myself slowly at first, marveling at the size and weight of my cock. My breathing grew heavier as the pleasure built, my hand working faster. My reflection, a strong, virile man, stared back at me, and I was getting close—so close—when the door to the fitting room suddenly creaked open.

Asher stood there, still in his older bodysuit, a grin plastered across his face. "Looks like I’m going to be the Dad now when we’re in these," he said with a chuckle.

I froze, heart racing, my hand still on my cock as I tried to compose myself. The pleasure quickly faded, replaced by a surge of embarrassment. Clearing my throat, I let go and gave a weak smile, pretending nothing had happened.

I turned back to the mirror, flexing again as if to distract from the moment. "You know," I said, a smirk creeping back onto my face, "we could always stay in these full-time."

Asher's eyes widened, his whole body practically vibrating with excitement. "Really?!"

"Sure thing... Dad," I replied, the tension breaking with a grin of my own.

[amendingreality]

I think the swap was the best for both of us.

I had fantasized about this so many times that when I finally found myself in someone else's body I doubted it was real and not another one of my fantasies, but no! It was completely real and I was so hot as fuck the entire time that I could barely control myself.

I was completely used to waking up every day on the other side of the world as Justin this huge 26-year-old boy, however the sensation of pinching my huge tits is still as pleasant as the first time I did it, the memories of that day They are a bit blurred. I only remember going to sleep peacefully in my bed in England and the next minute I was in a USA coffee shop.

I couldn't help but take a look at my new body thinking I was dreaming, so I quickly unbutton my shirt and look under it and to my surprise I now had huge fleshy pecs, out of sheer instinct I took one of my hands and pinched one of my hands tightly. my nipples -FUCK! - I shouted with a huskier voice and unknown to me at that moment, everyone in the cafeteria turned to see me some with curiosity, others with lust but I didn't care much and I continued playing with my new tits.

My new body had such sensitive tits that I didn't stop even when I felt the gaze of everyone around me I was totally intoxicated by the uncontrollable pleasure as if I were an animal that followed its instincts, In some strange way I liked being the center of attention in that place and I did not stop I kept pinching my sensitive nipples until I noticed that the pleasure spread throughout the rest of my body, it was not only my big pecs, now my cock was also enjoying it.

I could barely massage my cock through my pants for a few seconds until a jet of cum caused a noticeable semen stain to form between my legs. I gasped and relaxed sitting in the cafeteria chair until I regained full control of myself, but… I didn't feel embarrassed by the scene I had staged, it felt good to be admired and adored.

Since then I can not stop even the friction of tight shirts is a huge pleasure for me, I have tried to contact the new Justin who now lives in my body in England but without any success, I think he does not want to return to his body he seems very happy Now that she is free of these sensitive and wonderful tits, I think the swap was the best for both of us.

----

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[amendingreality]

No Nut November

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[amendingreality]

Just Like Your Old Man

Dwain was your average scrawny man in his 20′s with a dream to get big. Once he finally got out of college and was able to land a decent job he finally had the time to get a gym membership and try working on the body of his dreams. 

“So this is the place…” Dwain entered the gym for the first time to find many men and women working out. He walked to the reception desk and showed the membership he got days prior. He dropped his stuff off in his personal locker, put on his workout clothes, and went right back into the main area. Dwain took in for the sights for just a little bit since he didn’t really have a plan on what to do if he was being honest. That’s when he saw quite the old man working out, seeming to scream at the top of his lungs.

“What’s this old man doing here? Shouldn’t he be in a retirement home? haha!” Dwain couldn’t take his presence seriously at all.

“What you say about retirement homes?” The old man heard Dwain’s comment.

“I-” Now that the old man stood up the dude was way taller than Dwain and the 20 year old couldn’t muster a single word to the old man

“Since you think you’re so fit and young to be working out how about I teach you a lesson on being an old man in the gym,” The old man walked up to Dwain and just gave him a gentle boop on the nose.

“There… see you later… son.” And the old man walked off to whereabouts unknown.

Dwain completely dumbfounded by what just happened decided to just brush it off as a strange hallucination and went to go find a machine to start his workout journey.

Dwain finally got on his first machine which was something to work on his chest why not? At first it was quite difficult, but eventually he was able to press the two weights together and get a good pump and what a good pump it was. A little too good of a pump. Dwain felt an overpowering surge of energy overcome him as he kept pumping. It felt like… his tits were growing? Dwain stopped for a second and looked down to realize he now hand two massive meat mounts obscuring the view to his feet.

“Woah! That was quick. I wonder if I can…” and Dwain proceeded to bounce those juicy meat mounds for a good minute or two. Dwain finally let the euphoria of his new tits go and was hit with a realization. 

“If i got these so quickly… then if I were to work on my other body parts would I grow just as fast?” Dwain had to know and ran as fast as he could to the next machine with his tits jiggling all the way.

And what do you know he was right. With each new machine he used his body parts would grow in a rapid pace becoming massive and godlike. In just an afternoon Dwain had big pecs, massive arms, godlike thighs, a strong neck, a sexy six pack, and more. As Dwain got off the last machine he sighed.

“Whew… what a workout. Reminds me of when I joined here 20 years ago- wait… 20 years ago? I thought I just signed up a couple days ago,” Dwain scratched his head with that weird contradiction in the timeline.

“Well that doesn’t matter right now, I got the body of my dreams in just a couple moments! It’s a miracle. Especially for my age… wait my age?” That’s when the final process began. 

Dwain’s face was obviously unaffected by anything as you don’t exactly work on your face, but in seconds Dwain’s face began to age and age. His brown hair became almost completely consumed by a sea of white hair as wrinkles showered his face and all over his body. Dwain’s clean-shaven face now told a different story as he quickly developed a beard, but with the caveat of it being mostly grey.  One final change setting in as his pecs grew a little bit of hair on them with a mix of brown and grey as a wedding ring popped onto his ring finger. Dwain a man in his 20′s now looked like a man in his 50-60′s. Dwain didn’t really feel the changes besides his beard but couldn’t help but look in the nearby mirror to look at his visage.

“I look… old?!”

Dwain couldn’t believe his eyes. Sure he got muscles in an instant but instant aging too? That was too far too soon.

“W-What am I gonna do? I look like a completely different person I’ll be fired from my job at the protein factory! Hold on… protein factory? No… I work at a… at a… augh why can’t I remember!”

“Come on son, no need to get so worked up at your age. Makes you less hot.” A familiar voice spoke from behind Dwain. Dwain was quick to turn around and see that it was the old man from earlier.

“You! You did this to me didn’t you!” Dwain began pointing at the old man with his now aged finger

“Aw son, don’t be so hard on your old man, after all we work together!” The old man gave a hearty laugh. A hearty laugh that somehow resonated with Dwain.

“Y-You’re right… let me just take a deep breath and… ah!” With the flick of a switch all of Dwain’s old memories were replaced with new, more vintage memories as 30+ years of time was put in his brain. 

Instead of being your average college graduate. Dwain pursued bodybuilding in high school as he looked up to his father Mike who was a famous bodybuilder in his time. Dwain now age 63 works with his old man in various bodybuilding product productions like protein powder. Dwain was known as the meat man in the bodybuilding world for his strong and big pecs or as Dwain liked to call them his “big jugs”. The meat man married his Highschool sweetheart Carl and have been one of the world’s most beefy couple. As the last few miscellaneous memories were put into Dwain’s brain he looked at the old man now realizing it was his father Mike.

“Feel better now, son?”

“Of course pops, I always feel great!” Dwain giving a flex with his massive biceps.

“That’s the spirit! I’m sure your husband misses you a ton so how about you head on back for today,”

“Alright father, see you in the gym soon!” Dwain gave his father a big hug and a pat on the back as he went home to see his loving husband with his pecs jiggling once more.

“That sure taught him didn’t it huh,” Mike chuckled as he walked to his next workout with a lesson well done.

[amendingreality]

“Transform me into a dad,” Jason said, handing me the ray gun. It was dark, metallic, and said DADBLASTER on the side.

I shrugged. “Okay, dude,” and pulled the trigger.

He was enveloped in a ray of green light for a moment, and when it faded, he was naked. I could see his thin, wiry body standing in front of me, hairless, and his shocked expression.

“Oh fuck,” he gasped, looking down at himself. “I feel it!”

He rubbed his chest, and sure enough I could see dark hair sprouting across it. He looked back up to me in time for a moustache to appear over his upper lip.

“Bro,” he moaned, his voice deeper. “I’m becoming a dad! Fuuuuuck!” I raised his arms up and flexed, and they bulked with muscle. Dark pit hair grew in under his arms, and his chest barrelled out with muscle.

“Feels fuckin’ good,” he groaned, growing taller before my eyes. He looked down at me and grinned. “You look so little now, dude!”

I felt so small compared to him. “You look amazing,” I said. “Transform me next?”

“Yeah, kiddo,” he laughed, picking up another raygun. “But not into a dad.” He pulled the trigger and I felt the warm light engulf me just as I caught a glimpse of the words on the side: PUP BLASTER.

Get more stories of transformation, power, and control: https://amzn.to/2zuzn1M

[amendingreality]

Built for More

At first, Jacob was confused.

He stuck to a strict diet—chicken, rice, veggies, protein shakes. He hit the gym six days a week, lifted hard, ran harder. He should’ve been shredding. But instead… his shirts started fitting tighter around his belly. His jaw softened. His shorts rode higher on thicker thighs and fit tighter across his growing ass. A soft roundness swelled across his chest, hugging the tops of his pecs. And his stomach—he could no longer deny it—was taking on a gentle curve, plush and warm to the touch.

Every week, no matter how hard he pushed himself, he packed on more softness. And with it, hair. His torso had always had a bit of it, but now there was a little more, spreading proudly across his chest, trailing down his stomach. His beard began to grow out. And hair started to grow in places it hadn't before.

At first, he panicked.

“What the hell?” he’d muttered one morning, staring at himself in the mirror, running a hand across his stomach. It jiggled slightly. His abs were gone, buried beneath a layer of something new. But strangely… he didn’t hate it.

He pulled his arms behind his head, stretching, admiring the thick tufts of hair from his pits. His chest rose with the motion, hair glinting in the light, nipples taut. His stomach rounded outward, a gentle swell that felt almost… commanding.

And the more he noticed it, the more he noticed how others noticed, certain eyes lingering on Jacob’s belly like it was something to be desired.

At the grocery store, the cute clerk leaned in closer, flirted a little longer. “You been working on that dad bod, huh?” he asked, then flushed red as his eyes dipped instinctively lower.

That night, Jacob stood in front of the mirror again, shirt off, sweatpants loose on his hips. He looked different. Not lean. Not cut. But solid. Thick. Warm. There was something magnetic about it—something that made him want to explore more.

Maybe his body was trying to tell him something.

Not to fight it.

Not to cling to the shredded, lean figure he’d fought so long to maintain. But to let a new man emerge.

The man with a belly made to hold, to lean into, to be admired. A body built not for aesthetics—but for presence. For power.

He ran a hand down the hair on his stomach and smirked.

This was who he was meant to be.

And damn, it felt good.

[amendingreality]

The Truth Changes You

Elliot had always been adorable.

Blonde hair that flopped just right, soft blue eyes behind round glasses, and a lithe, almost delicate frame that made him look years younger than he was. He wasn’t weak—he had a light tone to him from his usual cardio and light yoga—but next to his best friend Andrew, he always felt small. Invisible.

And maybe that’s why he loved Andrew. Secretly. Deeply. Painfully.

They were opposites. Andrew was tall, broad-shouldered, masculine to the core, with thick arms and even thicker legs. Tattoos, a gravelly voice, a scent that drove Elliot crazy. He was everything Elliot wasn’t—and everything Elliot wanted.

They were lounging in Elliot’s apartment, a lazy Saturday stretched out ahead of them. The air was warm, the windows cracked, music low in the background. Elliot had been quiet, fidgeting nervously on the edge of the couch. Finally, he blurted it out:

“Andrew... why won’t you give me a chance?”

Andrew’s eyes didn’t flinch. He just raised an eyebrow. “You sure you want the truth?”

Elliot nodded.

“Sometimes,” Andrew said slowly, his voice like gravel and honey, “the truth changes people.”

Elliot’s stomach fluttered, but he didn’t back down.

Andrew leaned forward, elbows on knees. “You’re cute, Elliot. But you’re not my type.”

That hit Elliot hard—until Andrew added, “I like guys with a big cock and a set of heavy balls to match.”

Elliot blinked, confused—then gasped.

His groin flushed with heat, then a weight, then a sudden throbbing pressure. His breath hitched as he looked down. His shorts were tenting, swelling, his bulge growing obscenely larger, thicker, heavier with each pulse. He groaned, the fabric straining to contain the sudden mass of manhood between his thighs. He could fill his sack stretch as his balls began to swell, fill, then hang lower.

“What’s happening?” he panted, flushed, aroused, afraid.

But Andrew just smirked. “You wanted a shot with me, right?”

Elliot nodded, squirming with need.

“Then you’ll need more hair.”

Instantly, Elliot’s skin began to itch—then tingle.

He squirmed, gasping, as soft golden hair erupted from his chest, then darkened and thickened, spreading over his pecs and down his stomach. His pits itched madly as bushy tufts sprouted, curling and musky. Hair spilled down his thighs, thickened around his calves, and climbed over his ass, finally making its way it's way to his arms. His cheeks tingled, then stubble broke through, giving him the beginnings of a rugged jawline.

“Andrew…” he moaned, half-terrified, half-desperate with desire.

Andrew leaned closer. “Not done yet. I like a man with muscle.”

Elliot’s entire body spasmed—then cramped, twisted.

He doubled over, groaning as his shoulders broadened with a cracking pop. His back grew thicker, more sculpted. His biceps swelled outward with meaty curves. His chest pushed out, forming thick pecs that bounced with every twitch. His flat stomach rippled into firm abs. His ass expanded—round, firm, strong—and his thighs surged into thick, hairy trunks. His calves bulged, and his feet stretched a couple sizes longer, filling out until he looked… massive.

Sweat poured from his brow. His glasses had slid halfway off. He was panting like an animal, lost in the heat of change. He collapsed into Andrew’s arms, trembling.

“There he is,” Andrew whispered, holding him tightly, running his nose along Elliot’s sweaty, newly hairy neck. “There’s my man.”

Elliot’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind scrambled and overwhelmed. But his body pulsed with power, desire… hunger.

Andrew stood, reached for the duffle bag he’d brought, and pulled out a black tank top, tight shorts, slip-ons, and a cap.

“Put these on,” he said with a grin. “Come on. We’re going to the park.”

Elliot looked up, still catching his breath. “The park?”

Andrew winked. “I want to show off my new man to the world.”

And as Elliot stood, legs thick, chest proud, bulge still straining his shorts… he didn’t feel like the geeky boy anymore.

He felt like a man.

And he finally got his wish - to be with Andrew, to be his guy... just not in the way he imagined it.

[amendingreality]

[amendingreality]

Making Up For Lost Time

Within the kitchen of a one-bedroom apartment, an older man nervously paced back and forth, every now and then eyeing a package sitting on a nearby counter.

“I can’t back out now…” He muttered. “It cost a fortune..” He moved over to the sink, splashing some water on his face. “C’mon, don’t be a fucking pussy Vinnie.”

Judging by his classic white T and boxer combo, it must have still been early in the morning. Even then, Vinnie was already starting off the day with a bit of an internal struggle, a great way to start one’s own birthday. As he sat down to wipe his face, his attention moved to the calendar hanging on the wall, with today's specific date taunting him. “HAPPY 55th” was written in bright red marker.

Vinnie never dreaded his birthdays. He celebrated them with flair in fact. Big parties, extravagant dinners, themes that ranged from the ridiculous to the nostalgic. The Magnum P.I. bash for his 46th was among his favorites. That really should have been everyone's first clue that he was gay.

This year was different. The first since his divorce from his wife. The first since coming out to his family.

For thirty years, fear kept him in the closet. Fear of rejection, of losing his family, of throwing away a life built on a lie. While he wasn’t necessarily unhappy all this time, he knew his life wasn’t what it could and should have been. Now he was free to be his true self, but at what cost? His prime years had slipped through his fingers. The bars he frequented were filled with younger men, their lives just beginning while he was starting over.

Hook ups were plentiful, that wasn't an issue. A good deal of young bulls in the city desired a night out with an older man such as himself. "A quick fuck", "one night stand", "friends with benefits", Vinnie would familiarize himself with these phrases very quickly. However none ever wanted a relationship that lasted longer than a night.

Vinnie tried finding men more his age, but that quickly proved to lead no where. The pickings were definitely slim.

As Vinnie looked at the calendar, a feeling ruminated in the pit of his stomach. Did he wait too long? Were his best years all behind him? What sort of life awaited a fresh out of the closet 55-year old man? These questions irked Vinny so much that he had to do something about it. That’s what led him here.

Late night web browsing and half a bottle of pre-birthday wine led Vinnie down a peculiar rabbit hole. An email got delivered to his inbox in the dead of night. Instead of dismissing it immediately, its contents captured his attention. The email knew too much, his name, his regrets, his wish for a second chance. It promised a do-over, all for a hefty price that is. Against all logic he responded. And now, here it was.

Summoning a bit of courage, Vinnie approached the package. It was a hastily wrapped box, scotch tape’d to hell and back, and didn’t look as expensive as he had made it out to be. Opening it up, Vinnie fished through the almost endless sea of packing peanuts until he finally pulled out a tiny glass vial. A note was attached:

"Happy Birthday. Use responsibly."

His hand trembled as he uncorked it, tipping the liquid into the whiskey he had waiting. Vinnie wasn't quite sure what would happen once he drank it. Would it de-age him? Turn back time? Would he find out he'd been scammed? There was only one way to find out. He hesitated for a moment, but afraid of missing another chance at happiness knocked it back in one swift gulp.

The liquid burned as it went down, partly due to the whiskey he figured. As he felt the drink situate in his stomach, he waited for something to happen. Vinnie looked at the bottom of the glass, frowning.

"A thousand dollars down the drain." He pouted.

The effects then took hold. Vinnie noticed a soft glow envelop his hands which eventually spread throughout the rest of his body. He walked over to the mirror, wanting to see what was about to happen with his own eyes.

Suddenly, a strange weightlessness overtook him, as if he were being untethered from his own body. His limbs tingled, the edges of his vision blurred. Feeling unsteady, he reached to place his hand against the mirror, but he was shocked to see his hand pass right through it.

“What the hell?”

Panic surged. He stumbled forward, phasing completely through both the mirror and wall and finding himself on the other side in his bedroom. He'd find himself still moving however, not by his own will, but as if something unseen was pulling him forward. Vinnie attempted to fight against this invisible force and for a moment it looked like he was able to stand his ground. That was until this force became too much for him to bear.

His stomach lurched as he drifted through another wall, this time into the neighboring apartment.

Roberto’s apartment.

Vinnie barely knew his neighbor beyond the muffled sounds that came through the thin walls they shared. Heavy metal, loud action movies, the occasional passionate night with a woman. Few words were ever spoken between the two, yet Vinnie still had a good idea of who he was. He was young, mid-20s, full of life and energy. Everything Vinnie was not.

Then Vinnie saw him, standing at the bathroom sink, unaware. The pull intensified. It was Roberto whom Vinnie was being pulled towards, like a black hole. He tried to resist, but it was useless. His very essence surged forward, colliding with Roberto’s body in an instant, a quick flash filling the room in that moment. Vinnie was gone. A deep, guttural grunt left Roberto’s lips as his body jerked.

Vinnie gasped.

He was hunched over the sink, breathless, gripping the porcelain with unfamiliar hands. His hands. Roberto’s hands. Slowly, he lifted his head. The reflection staring back at him wasn’t his own.

Dark, messy hair. A short beard framing strong cheekbones. Tattoos etched into tan, youthful skin. His ears were pierced, his body lean and firm beneath the black tank top and tight shorts Roberto had worn.

Vinnie turned his hands over, flexing his fingers, watching the muscles shift beneath the skin. He pressed a palm to his chest, feeling the steady, strong heartbeat. His heartbeat.

He ran his hands over his face, mapping the new terrain, the sharpness of the jaw, the fullness of the lips. He contorted his face into strange expressions, expressions he'd never seen Roberto make, and was surprised when the reflection followed suit.

His hands drifted lower, skimming down his torso, tracing the contours of his abs. He pulled the tank top down, getting clearer look at his pecs, decorated with a bit of dark chest hair. His breath hitched.

“This… this is real.” He smirked, and the reflection smirked back.

Vinnie murmured, rolling his shoulders, testing the newfound flexibility of his joints. There was no ache, no stiffness. Just boundless energy.

Roberto must had just gotten back from a morning run. His shirt was soaked his sweat. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Roberto’s cologne mixed with the musk emanating from his pits. Almost by instinct, Vinnie lifted up his arm and admired himself in the bathroom mirror.

Vinnie exhaled, gripping the edge of the sink again, his mind racing. This is not what he expected to happen. He thought the magical drink would turn back the years, make him younger. Instead he was pulled into the body of the nearest young man around.

And what of Roberto? Was he still in here somewhere? Vinnie's jubilation halted as he started feeling the gravitas of his situation. As much as he wanted to start life anew, live out the rest of his life the way he wanted to, he knew he couldn't do it without the guilt of what he did hanging over him.

"Vinnie, you need to set it right." The words flared with a deep Latin accent.

Vinnie had to get back to his own body, and give Roberto back the life he inadvertently stole. The first step in doing that was determining where that package came from.

[amendingreality]

Who’s the latino guy you used in the AI? I think he’s hot!

I just typed a prompt and this guy was created 😅