shootingstarwritings

[shootingstarwritings]

Damn, sorry to hear that man. Sucks that Tumblr just keeps pushing away and punishing its niche users like these. I understand if you decide to go but I'll miss all your stories.

Not a Story: Perhaps This is the End

Tumblr said a lot of BS about not shadow-banning accounts and whatnot. But we're speaking from factual numbers here. The way my stories engagement plummeted by more than 50% after they turned off my messaging which is an indication of them blocking people's visibility to the content we created. The way none of my latest posts surpassed 150 notes (heck, one of them literally got 38 notes and yes, I'm deleting it as I'm posting this post), even the ones I thought would be well-received (and usually well-received) and very happy to come out with that story. I'm not gonna lie guys, I'm thinking to just close the whole thing off because not only I have 0 ability to engage with all of you easily, I also have some sense of pride that at this stage.....is shattered everytime I scroll through my pages and despised the fact that these latest stories didn't perform up to my likings. F Tumblr to the fullest honestly

I'll see what I do in the next 24 hours, if my account vanished by then, well, you know what that means, and no, I have zero intention to relocate to any platform or to join any chatrooms. It's Tumblr or nothing for me and I'm gearing for nothing for now (maybe I'm just emotional)

[shootingstarwritings]

"Goddamnit, I forgot it's Pride Month!

"Haaahh... oh man..." I groaned out as I stretched in this body I had been borrowing for the past few days. Didn't even know this guy's name, I just saw him at my local gay bar and quickly slithered inside him when he went into the restroom for a piss.

"Wha-AAAAHHH! Fuck!" he had screamed as my slimy, orange body slithered inside his dick. He had clutched the wall for support, body convulsing as he surrendered control to me. During the last few seconds of the possession, I could've sworn he was even moaning in pleasure from the sensation. What a perv...! Though, I could say the same for myself.

From there, the days passed by in a blur. I ended up using most of his paid time-off to just relax, masturbate, and play around with this thick, hairy body during this vacation I had stolen from him.

"What day is it even...?" I asked myself as I reached out for my host's phone. Even after several days, I still get a wild kick from just needing the facial recognition to unlock it. It felt as though I had truly dominated this pudgy fella.

My glee quickly turned to gloom as I saw the date. June 1st.

June.

The 1st.

Pride Month.

"The parades are gonna start soon!" I shouted. I shot up from the bed and quickly made my way to the door, completely forgetting that I was just wearing a pair of sexy yet revealing underwear.

Several of the neighbors walking down the halls of my host's apartment complex weren't pleased to see my half-naked body. Don't they know it's Pride? It's the one time of year we can all get together and appreciate the male form.

Well, I didn't feel like getting this adorable dude arrested, so I went back to get changed and actually grab his wallet and house keys.

I had plan to make up for lost time, and that involved getting to the airport.

~o~

When you're like me, the concept of money really ceases to have any value. That's not to say that I've gained any sort of personal enlightenment, it's simply that any cash I could want I simply take from a body that has some to spare. I'm not smart enough like other possessors to have any off-shore bank accounts, so I just get by through possessing people who are traveling to where I want to go.

And lucky for me, sitting by the terminal for New York was a hunk with restless leg syndrome just like all my other hosts.

I often had a hard time staying still, which is why I jumped from body to body so frequently, and train-of-thought to train-of-thought as well!

Ah, damn! While I was thinking fondly, he had gotten up to go to the restroom. There was my chance. I got up to my feet and followed him in, making sure to keep a fair amount of paces between us. Luckily, the bathroom was empty besides the two of us. Helped that so many flights around this wing of the airport had already departed.

While he went to one of the urinals, I slipped inside a stall and began to gather myself up in this host. I'd miss this fat cutie, but I needed to get to New York to enjoy all the pride festivals and the cuties that would be flying in.

But to give this body one last treat, I whipped out his cock and began to rub it as I began to lose all the various sensations I had come to love while being in this guy. "Nrgh, ah...haaaaah...!" My previous host let out a low, audible groan as my true form shot out of his dick and into the floor. I quickly slithered towards the hunk just as he shook the last drops of piss from his cock.

"The fuck?" It must've been providence, as his attention was briefly drawn to my old host's groans. With his distracted, I quickly slithered up his leg and shot myself into his dock. "Wha--AH. Fuck, fuck, ahhh!" Unlike my previous host, this one was a fighter. Leaning against the wall for support, he pulled on the last bits of my slimy body entering him, but he couldn't get a good enough grip. "N-No, g-get outta me...!" he whispered, eyes shut as both pain and pleasure washed over him. He gripped his head, teeth gritted as he lost all sensation.

Then, I relaxed my new face and took a look at my new form. "Niiice," I said as I flexed my new arms. However, I quickly slipped my dick back into my underwear and washed my hands. I couldn't risk missing my ride for some exploration. Besides, there'd be plenty of time for that once I got onto the plane.

New York, here I come! Hope nobody minds me borrowing them while I enjoy this year's pride!

[shootingstarwritings]

"Oh boy, I sure can't wait for shootingstarwritings to finish his body-a-day challenge or FEStival Fiasco! It'll surely happen one of these days"

[shootingstarwritings]

Worried about the Wrong Contamination

“’sup, you here by yourself, beautiful?” said Holden, waving at a girl getting two glasses of fruity drinks at the local cabana. Spring Break was on full-swing, so he made sure to speak loud enough so she’d hear. Looking closely, Holden began wondering why she seemed vaguely familiar.

His confusion was swiftly answered as the girl began giggling. “I remember you!” she said, covering half her tittering mouth with her hand. “You’re that guy that tried hitting on my girlfriend last week at Preston’s party. Sheesh, you never learn, huh?”

Holden’s ears burned as he caught several amused stares from some passersby. Trying to salvage whatever pride he had remaining, he said, “I-I didn’t take you for a lesbian. I mean, you’re not coverred in tattoos and piercings and shit.”

That only made the girl laugh even harder. She nearly doubled over, and several of the patrons joined her before moving on. “Holy shit, you’re actually the worst,” she said, her shoulders still trembling as her laughter died out. Still gorgeously smiling, she told Holden, “Get bent, dumbass. Try not to put your foot in your mouth trying to pick up girls. Ciao!”

Holden left the cabana with his gaze firmly fixed on the ground. His hands trembled both from anger and the humiliation he had just gone through. On the way back to his hotel room to sulk, he glanced at his phone and saw some of the messages from the Discord group he was in. Most of his friends were on the same boat—no hook-ups, no girlfriends, no actions while Spring Break was already halfway over. Fucking third semester of college and still no girlfriend, Holden thought. But for today, he was far too exhausted to be too angry. He quickly made his way to his hotel room and started chugging some of the vitamin water he had bought for this trip.

It was the new mantra that the alpha male scene was wholly devoted to, and thus it was Holden’s new mantra for the past few weeks. Something about estrogen contaminating the tap water, he tried to remember. He hadn’t been paying enough attention to really remember all the details, however. He was just worried about anything causing him to lose all the gains he had been making lately. So, he settled on vitamin water. There wasn’t any particular reason for his pick other than the word ‘vitamin’ on it. As a wannabe-fitness trainer, he figured the more vitamins the better.

Little did he know about what had contaminated the water he bought. It was a little gift from outer space. A little creature that fancied himself an invader that had a certain fascination for the human race; in particular, its men.

Once Holden finished chugging down his third bottle, he threw himself onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. Why can’t I even get laid? I got this rockin’ bod and all. I’m acting like an alpha is supposed to act, right? His thoughts continued until, without realizing, Holden began to doze off. He hadn’t realized just how tired he was, nor what was spreading throughout his body. Without really realizing it, his cock began to harden in his swim trunks. Damn, I’m real fucking horny right now, he thought, half-asleep—or rather, half-conscious as the alien presence began to take over his mind.

Without questioning the sudden arousal, Holden slipped a hand down his shorts and began lethargically jerking his cock. His frustrations melted away as a dopey grin spread across his face. Yeah, this is nice. Guess when no chick’s around my fist’ll have to do. It’s not so bad, though.

Holden rubbed his legs together as he slowly slid his shorts off and kicked them off. One hand jerked his cock while another began to tease and fondle his chest. I’ve never done this before, he thought as he started groaning. “Mm…! Ah! Haaaah… oh, fuck!” he said, wincing and sucking in air through his teeth as he started to explore his body like never before. He had no idea that his body could feel so pleasurable! Parts of his body that never responded so much to his own touch now felt like they were on fire.

What the fuck, I’ve never felt like this before! Why am I so sensitive?! Holden thought as he spread his legs. His free hand fondled his balls real quick before it slowly drifted towards his ass. Woah, h-hold on! M-My ass? He gasped as his finger, almost as if it had a mind of its own, teased his hole. However, his surprise and outrage suddenly dwindled. Yeah… yeah, I’ve wanted to do this for a while now, he thought to himself.His grimace relaxed as he shut his eyes with a slack-jawed smile. Any resistance faded as his finger finally penetrated his hole. “Nrgh…! Oh fuck yeah!” Holden cried out as his thoughts became filled with nothing but the desire to feel this pleasure. His legs stiffened as he forced his finger inside his virgin ass.

I’ve become so flexible and muscular to pleasure myself, Holden thought. He continued to repeat that to himself like a mantra as his memories twisted and blended together into a mess for his body’s invader. Yeah, that's right. I pushed my body to the limit so it can get fucked and cum lots of loads with loads of dudes! That's what I'm good for! Holden writhed on the bed, back curling as he continued to fuck himself like a man possessed. Finally, he could feel his core tightening and his pleasure reaching its peak.

"F-Fuck, I-I'm coming!" shouted Holden as he came so hard he whited out. His body convulsed on the bed as cum shot up high into the air before cascading all over his chest and abs.

What awoke was not quite human, but just human enough. The new Holden stood up, stretched, and immediately reached for his phone. Already having access to his human memories, Holden began taking several pictures and downloading several apps.

~o~

Adrian was an older man just recently out of the closet and searching for a connection. His female coworkers suggested a few apps that they had never tried before but "all the gays seem to be having success with." Still, he was nervous until his first match eagerly agreed to meet immediately.

"I just feel a sorta connection with ya. At least, I wanna have a nice date and maybe a nice time back in my hotel room, cutie ;D"

And so Adrian waited in this Spring Break town.

"Hey, daddy-o!" Adrian's eyes widened as he saw his hook-up walk over, hips swaying in an exaggerated manner.

The invader possessing Holden had ditched the shorts and chose to wear a speedo to help attract more mates. It didn't help that he wanted to show off more of his new host's goods.

Adrian gasped in shock and looked around. Nobody in particular was paying attention, although the two certain did receive a few passing glances. "S-So, you're Holden...?"

Holden grinned and wrapped an arm around Adrian's shoulders and pushed a bottle of vitamin water into his grip. "Here, from me to you. I actually forgot something back in my hotel room, mind if we stop by there first?"

Not seeing the harm in that, Adrian agreed and took a sip of the vitamin water. It sure was hot today...

Hot...

Yeah, he was all sweaty. The more he tried to focus the more he realized just how difficult the heat was making it to think. By the time he had gotten his bearings again, he realized he was on Holden's bed, getting jerked off.

"H-Hoooolden..." Adrian slurred out, blinking each eye individually. His body felt hot and sluggish, as though there was something going on inside of him, and the pleasure from Holden's blowjob was only making it worse... but also better. More pleasurable. He let out a moan as his climax began to approach. "D-Did... did you drug meee...?"

Holden shook his head, still grinning. "Nah, just gave ya some nice vitamin water is all. Did you know there's been some concern about something contaminating the local tap water? That's why you should always drink bottled water. It's nice and perfectly clean."

That was the last thing Adrian heard before he came and then his mind was no longer his own.

[shootingstarwritings]

Nice job! Congrats on graduating. Looking forward to all the new stories, too!

Hello Friends!

I wanted to give everyone a life update. I have been getting my master's degree and that had been taking up so much of my time which meant that I was unable to or did not have the energy to write. Well, I just got my degree and I am now FREE from school. To be honest, it feels really good to have more time to dedicate to hobbies such as writing these stories.

I hope you have been enjoying the new stories and I am excited to continue writing again. I can't thank you all enough for sticking around through all of the ups and downs. Now, I don't want to promise anything, but already my schedule has shifted so dramatically with my new job and my career that it feels good to be writing again (especially clearing out some of these drafts that needed some heavy edits).

As always, if you wanted to share a story idea feel free to message me or send me a photo! I'm happy to brainstorm. I also have been finding the world of role-play exciting so if your body is looking to be invaded by something please do not hesitate to reach out - I'm sure I have something that would enjoy taking you for a ride.

Let's have some fun,

TakeoverTales 2.0

[shootingstarwritings]

Anything to support the arts, even if I just wanna go ahead and explore these bodies I've stolen. She owes me for this, though!

That was the thought that Alan had as he made sure to pose his two little meat puppets properly for the artists and photographers gathered around.

The girl in the back taking a picture was Emily—who smirked to herself knowing just who those two random but kind volunteers for her art club truly were.

Alan rolled both of his borrowed eyes before leaning both bodies close together into a deep, sensual kiss to the awe of all the students.

~o~

"So, some of the models my club was planning on using for references are giving me issues," Emily told the slime who was currently inhabiting her boyfriend, Jakob. "Turns out that they're not in the mood for doing some 'homo shit,' even if it's for the sake of art!" She rolled her eyes and threw her arms in exasperation. "Can you believe it?! All we want is some references for our comics and drawings. Honestly, no respect to the arts."

Alan nodded, one hand running through Jakob's beard and admiring the sensation. When Emily asked again, he blinked and just said, "Whuh...?"

Emily narrowed her eyes. "Listen. To. Me," she hissed through gritted teeth. "I've endured your slimy ass inhabiting Jakob for a while, but it's time for you to owe me a favor, got it?"

Alan sighed and shrugged. He couldn't deny that Emily had a point, but he didn't want to admit it. Internally, he cursed himself for how careless he had been.

"Nrggh, ahhh..." Jakob let out a moan as he trembled on the bed, his exposed cock hardening as a strange slime slid through his cock-hole.

"Jakob, are you okay?" Emily walked in as her boyfriend let out a monstrous moan. The last of Alan slipped right through his dick and he blew a load right then and there. “What the fuck?!” she exclaimed, and Alan knew that he was doomed forever. Alan cursed to himself, having through that Emily had left for work that morning.

It was a funny little memory, but now Alan was saddled with being Emily’s little helper from time to time.

“I think I've been pretty hospitable these past few days," she said with her arms folded across her chest. Her tone reminded Alan just a tad bit of his mother, who was now a faceless figure in his memories. "How about this? Do this for me and I'll help you sneak into a host you'd like more than Jakob? You said you were interested in the next door neighbor, right?"

Bringing up that beefcake was enough to convince Alan. He knew it would be a pain, but he agreed and the two began to draft their plan.

~o~

"So, just wait here, okay?" Emily said as she opened the front door of the apartment she shared with Jakob. The two models, both looking unimpressed, nodded and took a seat on her couch. One propped up his legs on her coffee table, and she had to resist the urge to throw him out right then and there. "I just need to grab something and I'll whip something up for you two! Once taste of that and I think you'll be able to see things my way."

One of them scoffed, and Emily walked out the door and slammed the door just a bit too far behind her. "Stupid bitch," one of them muttered as he got up and stretched. "Gonna use the bathroom real quick," he said while the other model, feet still on her coffee table, took his phone out and started absentmindedly scrolling.

Perfect, thought Alan as his red, slimy form slithered from other the coffee table.

The guy before him wasn't that b ad of a looker, shame that his shorts were just so tight. Preparing himself, Alan quickly leapt into the air and landed on the model's crotch.

"Eurrgh! The fuck...?" The model looked down and saw a blobby, strange, and cold pile of goo land on his lap. His hands trembled as he stared, so shocked that he could barely react. "W-What the fuck...?!"

He tried to stand up but Alan didn't allow him. With speed that seemed unlikely for a body like his, he slithered down the shorts' waistband and engulfed the model's cock with his slimy form. "Aah...! Shit! N-Not there...!" The model could only get a few inches off the couch before he slammed back down. He threw his arms to the side and his head back as Alan's body began to jerk and suck on his cock. "Nngh... Better than any whore I've had..." The model, ashamed as he was, couldn't help but admit as Alan pumped his cock. "Fu-Fuck, I-I'm cumming..." The model lowered his voice as much as he could while his hips thrust into Alan before collapsing on the couch, panting heavily and covered in a sheen of sweat.

He raised a trembling arm in a weak protest as he said, "N-No, stop...!" But Alan was already slithered into the model's spent cock. His eyes rolled up to the back of his head and his body fell to the side and started to convulse as he was taken over.

"Hey man, heard some stuff while I was in the bathroom. You good?" asked the other model, who Alan now knew as Casey.

Michael, as Alan learned, grinned and said, "Never felt better. Hey man, c'mere. I got something to tell you." Casey, looking apprehensive, leaned in slowly. Michael tackled him to the ground and pressed their lips together.

Casey screamed into Michael's open mouth as a stream of slime invaded his body. He convulsed on the ground, jaw-slacked as he could do nothing but moan in defeat as his hot body fell under the complete control of Alan.

~o~

A week later, Emily handed a container of homemade cookies to her neighbor, a man named Elijah Summers, who lived just across the hall. "These are real good. Hope you enjoy."

The older man nodded and smiled. He took them home and began to indulge in the baked sweets.

A few minutes later, Alan enjoyed the way his new body felt and began to strip in front of the mirror.

[shootingstarwritings]

“Slime-possessed cock got me bustin’ softly and efficiently,” I read my drafted caption out-loud. I hummed, deep in thought before handing my phone over to my slime-possessed neighbor. “Do you think it’s funny? Think it’ll get me lots of likes and reblogs?”

My slime-possessed neighbor, still sweaty after the slime slithered into his cock, took my phone in his hands and stared at it, brow furrowed in concentration.

Eventually, he looked up at me and blankly said, “I don’t know. I don’t know what these words mean.” And after chucking my phone over his shoulder, he went back to stripping and exploring his new body.

~o~

Happy April’s Fools!

Link to original joke

[shootingstarwritings]

gay porn blogs will reblog the world’s most normal picture of the world’s most normal man and caption it some shit like. His farmer’s tan had consumed his life… ever since he got hit by the Farmer’s Tan Ray

[shootingstarwritings]

I made sure to rise from my grave to vote on this. I’m not gonna judge but I can’t say I’m in support of it.

And yes, I understand the irony of not approving of AI stories while having the writing speed of molasses and disappointing all my readers. But buddy; January 15, 1919 is coming. Stay tuned.

Recently a dear friend taught me how to "jailbreak" AI chats. Since then I've been playing around A LOT with the AI, creating incredibly well-written and explicit content from story ideas I never would have had the energy to write myself. Now, I would love to share these creations with you all, but at the same time I would rather not diminish the creativity, originality and effort from all the other TF writers in our community.

I'll be posting one of these AI created stories tomorrow, so you can all decide then.

I'd love to hear your takes on this, as well as any possible ideas you might have for me to work on. /Verus

[shootingstarwritings]

Body a Day #10: Table

Alex Fisher yawned as he entered the water treatment plant. It was five in the morning, but he had to be in early due to being just recently assigned to the morning shift.

His boss, an older man in his 50’s by the name of Mr. Fisk, urged him to do so to raise his motivation. He had taken a few days off for whatever reason, but came back with a perky mood, which seemed to infect everyone in the morning shift. “Everyone there is so chipper and nice. If you’re feeling unsatisfied, perhaps this new schedule will help your mood.” Alex wasn’t convinced, but soon agreed thanks to small pay bump Mr. Fisk offered.

Alex went into the company break-room to dump his lunch into the fridge, but paused when he saw a plate of doughnuts on the table. He cocked an eyebrow and looked at the note left nearby.

“Thought some of you could use a little pick-me-up!” The note said it was from Mr. Fisk.

Oh, so that’s why everyone’s so happy in the morning. Little snacks, thought Alex. He grabbed a doughnut—surprised by how warm it was—and scarfed it down before heading to his office. “Mmm! Oh, that’s good,” Alex couldn’t help but moan out-loud. With doughnuts that good, how could anyone be in such a foul mood?

Now with a spring in his step, Alex made his way up the stairs, but stopped and doubled over halfway up. “Oh, the fuck…? What was in that… urgh…!”

“Ah, there you are, Alex!” From the top of the stairs, Mr. Fisk called out and smiled Alex, who was on his knees, trembling. “I see you had one of my special treats. That’s good, boy! Just relax and it’ll all be over soon,” he said as he walked down to Alex.

“The fuck…? Boss, what’d you do to those…? Am I dying?!”

Mr. Fisk, still unfazed, kneeled down so he was at eye-level with Alex. “In a way, yes,” he said, gazing intently into Alex’s eyes. Blue film flashed over his brown eyes, which caused Alex to flinch back and nearly fall. “Hang on there, champ,” said Mr. Fisk, catching Alex easily with his strong, broad arms. “Can’t let you die and take one of my spawn with you. You’re too valuable for us.”

By now, Alex’s vision was swimming. Mr. Fisk’s smiling face was growing blurrier by the second. The pain had stopped. Instead, there was a numbing sensation spreading throughout his body. He knew he should’ve been worried, but it was difficult to think. All he could do was string together a few words. “Feels… wrong…”

“No, son, it’ll feel good very soon,” cooed Mr. Fisk before pulling Alex in for a kiss. Alex’s limp body trembled and convulsed.

A few minutes passed, and soon he was back on his feet with a smile that matched Mr. Fisk’s. “Thank you so much for the snacks, boss!” said the new blue-eyes Alex as he beamed, chest puffed out with pride.

“Not a problem, Alex. Oh, but you had green eyes, remember? Take care to fix that before anyone gets suspicious. And get back to work! Remember, our main objective can only come to pass once we take over 50% of this company. Actually, hmm… Come to my office. Seems there’s a bit of an issue we need to take care of.”

Alex looked down at the erection that threatened to burst from his slacks. The blue slime that had taken over his body was still new to the human body, so just the very sensation of being able to move such a gigantic creature like this was exhilarating. He blushed and followed Mr. Fisk like a puppy.

“Ahh, argh… oh, being a human is so great…!” Alex said, moaning as Mr. Fisk sucked him off. He sat spread-eagle on Mr. Fisk’s leather chair as his boss, on his knees, went to town on his cock. “L-Let’s spread this joy all over, Mr. Fisk. I’m your—w-woah—I’m your loyal employee! Ah, ahh!” Alex covered his mouth and tried to drown out his moans as he shot his first load as a human all over Mr. Fisk’s face. “J-Just tell me what to do, Mr. Fisk. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Patience, patience,” said Mr. Fisk as he ruffled Alex’s damp hair. “First we have to take over this water treatment plant. All employees need to know the joy of our true form before we can spread further. Now, let’s get back to work.”

“Yes, sir!”

[shootingstarwritings]

Body a Day #9: School

Being the out and proud art teacher at a high school deep into the Bible belt wasn’t easy, but Manuel ‘Manny’ Martinez did his best to make it work. Although he knew that his hometown wasn’t perfect, he simply had too many roots here to let it all go. And it wasn’t all that bad. Despite some glares from a few of the parents here and there, Manny made sure to with Pride; Pride not for himself, but for all the students that lived closeted and unsure of themselves.

Because of that, Manny tried to petition to the principal, Harrison Hayden, regarding a Gay-Straight Alliance for the students to have. “You’re quite tenacious, Mr. Martinez,” said Principal Hayden, looking quite unimpressed. “This is… what, the fifth or sixth time you’ve asked me to allow your gay club?”

Manny didn’t miss the way that Principal Hayden always used ‘Mr. Martinez.’ He called just about every other member of that by their first name. However, Manny didn’t allow that to bother him. “Well, it’s not really a ‘gay club.’ It’s more a place for students of all types to come together and—” He was cut off as Principal Hayden cleared his throat and then talked about how much the parents of the student body would protest such a club and cause a scene.

Manny tried to explain the marginalized students, but it was soon clear that Hayden wasn’t going to listen.

That night, he mentioned the whole ordeal to his partner and husband, Terry. “I have to admit,” said Manny between spoonfuls of spicy spaghetti, “This was the most PC way anyone has even told me, ‘No way faggot,’ before.”

Terry clicked his tongue. “Piece of shit, principal,” he muttered as he wound up about half his spaghetti onto his fork. “Straights just can’t comprehend the situation not only being all about them.”

Manny nodded but shrugged. He wasn’t sure what to do know. There were plenty of students that had expressed interest, but Principal Hayden didn’t seem to think they were worth considering in comparison to the rest of the school. “If only there was a way to change his mind… or just changing the principal.”

“Hmm… well, there might be a way for me to pull a few strings,” said Terry. As he hummed in thought, Manny felt chills run down his spine as he saw a familiar and maniacal grin.

“Terry, no.”

“Oh, c’mon! As if you even know what I’m thinking.”

“I don’t need to be a mind-reader to know that it’s insane. Don’t you remember what happened last time? I still have nightmares.”

“Like you didn’t enjoy me giving you that boning,” said Terry. Last Thanksgiving, Terry had offered to use some kind of technological app to allow the couple to shapeshift for the long weekend. Unfortunately, due to some kind of glitch in the program, Terry and Manny ended up turning into dogs for a few days. It was only by some divine miracle that they didn’t end up as fixed or female dogs, according to Terry. “Point is!” said Terry, motioning to move on with the conversation, “This time, I’m gonna do a test run to make sure that my little app works properly. Trust!”

Without waiting for Manny’s response, Terry rose from his seat and rushed over to his study—completely forgetting that it was his turn to do the dishes. “Never marry a programmer,” sighed Manny, but he still couldn’t help but smile. That manic look in his eyes, the excitement in his voice… Manny couldn’t help but love all of it. It was pretty hot, too.

Terry spent the rest of the night in his study, only coming out as Manny, clad in just a pair of boxers, was preparing for bed. Before Terry said anything, Manny walked over to his dresser and handed him a glass of water.

“Oh, thanks!” said Terry before gulping it down. “Hey, how’d—”

“Every time you lock yourself in your study you always forget to eat and drink,” said Manny, chuckling.

Terry smiled, almost swooning. “You know me so well, honey. So, ready for the test run?”

“Test run?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, I promise I’ll be the only doing the dangerous stuff,” he said, practically bouncing from foot to foot in excitement. When Terry was that excited, Manny found himself having a hard time rejecting him. Eventually, the couple shut off the lights and cuddled together in bed. For whatever reason, Terry hadn’t elaborated, but just insisted that they go to bed like normal. “You’ll see, just watch!”

Manny lied on his side and waited. He was the smaller spoon even though he was physically larger. But after a few minutes, Terry eventually drew back. “Hmm…? Terry?” Just before Manny looked back, he felt some kind of slimy tentacle-like creature force itself into his mouth. “Hmm?! Mm—!” Mmffm!” He tried to struggle, but found his limbs felt heavy and almost completely unresponsive.

Just what was happening? What was wrong with Terry and why did this feel so right? Manny wasn’t sure what Terry had planned, but he couldn’t help but enjoy that wonderful feeling of being penetrated. It was usually him being the top while Terry would hum or just get distracted, so allowing Terry to take the lead was a nice change of pace… whatever this was.

It truly felt as though something was robbing every part of Manny. First, the control over his fingers and toes disappeared first. Then, his legs and arms became numb as a warm yet foreign feeling engulfed his writhing body. It was like soaking in a hot spring or getting a massage by an expert masseur. “Ohh… oh god, Terry, don’t stoooop…!” Manny writhed and trembled on the bed with such intensity that he was worried his brain would short-circuit.

As Terry’s essence finally became coating Manny’s brain, Manny peeled away his boxers and began to jerk himself off. “Ohhh, it feels so good!” It was like making love together for the first time. Terry’s essence filled each crevice and wrinkle, lighting up each and every single one of Manny’s pleasure centers with such intensity that Manny’s vision went white. “OHHH, FUCK!” Manny’s hips thrust high into the air, cum rocketing out of his barely-touched cock as Manny happily became a passenger in his own body.

What had occurred was nothing short of miraculous for the young couple. Panting, they lied, together in Manny’s body, on the bed that they had each called home so many times. A slight sheen of sweated coated Manny’s face and chest, but neither of them minded. No, there was something comfortable about lying in one’s own natural musk.

Eventually, using Manny’s voice, Terry said, “Y’know our plan for tomorrow, right?” Manny, somehow knew exactly what was running through Terry’s mind. No words needed to be shared, Terry was just indulging in the subtle yet pleasurable joys of using Manny’s voice as his own. They shared one heart, one mind, and one body. It was almost depressing, for both of them, to even think about separating.

“But for tonight, we can be like this,” said both Terry and Manny. They hugged themselves and enjoyed the feeling of softly humping the sheets as they peacefully slumbered.

The following day went about as expected. “I’d like to just have a quick word afterschool,” said Terry with a smile that looked uncanny on Manny’s softer face. Principal Hayden didn’t seem to notice or care and just gave him a weary, “Sure.

“But, Mr. Martinez, I really doubt that you’ll be able to change my mind,” he said.

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that, sir,” said Terry, and inside Manny couldn’t help but chuckle.

Terry was at the principal’s door as the final bell rang. He slipped inside without knocking, a pool of Terry’s essence already filling up Manny’s mouth. “Mr. Martinez, can’t you at least knock?!” was the last thing Principal Hayden was able to say before a dark tendril shot its way into his mouth. With the waning control over Manny’s body he had left, Terry shut the door behind him to make sure no one could hear Hayden’s struggles.

Principal Hayden’s back curled into a C and his thighs quivered as more and more of Terry’s essence invaded his body. The whites of his eyes slowly filled up with that shade of dark as his weighty figure convulsed. Any struggles and moans were muffled thanks to Terry’s entrance.

Soon, all of Terry had flown into Principal Hayden’s mouth with a wet slurp! Manny rested his palms on his knees, panting. Already Terry’s lack of presence in his body weighed heavily on his psyche. It had only been a few seconds, but Manny dearly missed him.

Luckily, if everything worked out, they would be reunited much sooner than later.

Hayden’s body came under Terry’s control much faster than Manny. “Didn’t want to play around?” Manny asked with a smirk.

‘Hayden’ smiled back. “Nah, love,” said Terry as he rolled his shoulders, trying to stretch out a crick. “This body ain’t as cute as yours. But it always feels nice to dominate a homophobic fuck.” The belt became undone, and soon Hayden’s slacks were on the floor. Leaning back, Terry raised Hayden’s legs and rested them on the chair’s armrests. His ass was in full-view, ready to be bred. “Before I approve of your club, Manny,” Terry forced Hayden to say, “I need a bit of convincing. What say you and I talk, man-to-man?”

“Of course, Principal Hayden,” said Manny, unzipping his own jeans and stroking his hardening dick.

~o~

The next day was quite the blur for Principal Hayden. Not only has he apparently approved of Mr. Marti—no, Manny’s GSA club, but he had even given statements regarding the reaction from outraged parents. “All students of all walks of life are welcome in our community,” was his thesis as he spoke to news station that had covered the story.

When had he become so passionate in such a thing? Hayden wondered that to himself as he showered for the night. Strangely enough, it felt like he was waking up from a dream as he showered. Was he disassociating the whole time while he didn’t notice? No, he still remembered doing everything he had done the past few days. It felt like only just now did he realize what he was able to do.

However, one person in Hayden’s life seemed happy with his decision. As Hayden stepped out of the shower, he saw his wife, Natasha, watching the news and looking giddy. “Hey,” she whispered as he took a seat next to her. “Do you remember my sister’s kid? Well, she came out a trans recently. Her name’s Arianna now.” Natasha leaned toward Hayden and rested her head on his shoulder. With her free hand, she rubbed his belly. “Girl keeps talking about how excited she is to attend your school next year.” Natasha kissed Hayden on the cheek. “You did well today, dear. Her and loads of other kids are real happy about what you did.”

Huh, guess I did…

~o~

Manny looked up from his book as he saw Terry saunter in while panting. “What took you so long?” he chuckled as Terry collapsed on the bed.

Voice muffled, Terry answered, “Just had to make sure the bastard didn’t throw you under the bus.” He turned to his side and faced Manny. “I had to make sure he didn’t change his mind last minute or tried to screw you over, but it’s all good now.”

“Why? Did you do something to him?”

“Nah, nothing like that. Just… he realized the lesson that every bigot’s got to at some point: someone y’know’s got a flag of their own.”

“Well said, dear. So, I’m guess you’re far too tired to go at it tonight?” In response, Terry began to snore. Sighing dreamily, Manny cuddled with his husband and pecked him on the lips. “Good night, dear. Thanks for everything.”

[shootingstarwritings]

Body a Day #8: Wash

In the land of Gaia, most women were specifically banned from learning or practicing any form of magic. Marron’s house, a house that came from merchants who struck good fortune and rose to the upper echelons of society, was one of the more ‘progressive’ ones, as she received the basic fundamentals at a young age, but not much afterwards. Meanwhile, her brothers were taught until they left for a higher education in the capital.

However, Marron was still eager to learn more. She snuck into her brothers’ rooms and devoured each magical textbook and practice in the dead of night. In the morning, thoroughly exhausted, she learned how to be a good housewife for whatever lord she would end up getting married off to. By her 21st birthday, her parents arranged for a meeting with a local lord named Ector Valentine. Marron wasn’t particularly interested in the monotone man, but she remained kind, polite, and thoughtful. She laughed at his unfunny jokes and remained attentive and receptive when he spoke of his admitedly tame list of accomplishments.

Ector left Marron’s estate with nothing but glowing things to say to his parents—and so their wedding was quickly arranged. In the months leading up to it, Marron found it harder to practice magic in secret. She could feel her dreams of becoming a talented sorceress slipping through her fingers. How could she find the time to study, practice, and research while being a wife and a mother?!

However, Marron still kept the appeared of a collected, wonderful woman. She took a trip to town and caught sight of a crowd gathered around some kind of show. Curious, she walked over and saw a sight she never thought she’d ever witnessed.

Floating on a bright pink bubble was a tall, woman laughing as she spun on miraculous magic she had conjured up. She was laughing as she kept conjuring up bubbles, winds, and rainbows—putting on a show the likes of which Marron had never seen before. “Sisters and siblings, isn’t it our turn to lend our hands to the field of magic?” she asked the crowd, most of which remained nervously silent.

Several men tried to grab at the woman or even throw rocks, but a few quick hands movements and they were all blown back with streams of bubbles. “Uh-uh! No touching allowed,” she said while wagging her fingers, her face still beaming. She didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the men who tried to assault her. If anything, she almost expected it.

“My name,” the sorceress began, “is Tiffany Faye! I’m here to share my tale!” She went on to describe how she had learned how to use magic since she was young. Both of her parents, as well as several aunts and uncles, taught her how to succeed. “It’s because they believed in equality,” she said, briefly locking eyes with Marron before moving on.

More and more sorcerers came by to try and arrest Tiffany, but she easily gave them the slip while yelling to her audience, “If you wish to find me, you will. Fate is in our hands, my sisters and siblings!” Marron tried out to cry out for help, but found herself choking on her own voice as Tiffany disappeared as a stream of bubbles blocked everyone’s vision. By the time the bubbles dispersed, Tiffany was gone.

Forlorn, Marron continued her walk. She knew she should’ve put that encounter into the back of her mind, but she couldn’t. Tiffany looked so confident. So strong. She was unlike any other lady Marron had ever seen. Was it love? Marron wasn’t sure. She had never been so unsure of any of her feelings. But at the very least, she was certain she wanted to see Tiffany one more time. Just a conversation—someone to finally share these deep-seeded woes inside of her.

“Fate will bring us together,” those were her last words, thought Marron. Was leaving it all up to fate truly the right call? She wasn’t sure, but Marron sighed and just walked to wherever her legs took her, not really thinking about her destination. Was this what Tiffany meant by fate? Either way, Marron knew that eventually she needed to return home, eyes glued to the ground as her head hung low.

As Marron made her way back to her family’s estate, she heard a familiar voice that was music to her ears. “Ah, you were in the crowd. Hiya!” Marron’s eyes widened as she looked up and saw Tiffany, most of her body hidden by a thick robe. Yet her voice was unmistakable. It was so bubbly, high-pitched, and just full of life. “You look like you want to say something, so go ahead. I’m all ears.”

It would still take a bit of time to reach the estate by foot. In all honesty, Marron had all the time in the world. All she needed to do was remain calm while she spoke. Yet, as she opened her mouth to speak, her words came out in-between choked sobs as her heart, for the first time in her life, finally belt out her true feelings. “I-I want to be free. I want to be a sorceress like you…!”

Tiffany stared, face blank as Marron cried out her feelings. Then, once Marron finished, Tiffany smile and gently wiped away the tears from Marron’s burning cheeks. “It’s hard out there, for us. Now, tell me your situation. I can’t be your knight and save you from this situation, but I can give you a hand—enough that you can go ahead and go forth on your own.”

Tiffany didn’t believe in saving people—she preferred to give them the strength to fly on their own. “This is the only way we’ll be able to grant ourselves our freedom. I can’t whisk them away from their misery, but I’ll give the strength to escape with their own strength and power,” and it was with that philosophy that she gave Marron a certain talisman, a sheet of paper with just enough room to write a name on. “You envy the men around your life, don’t you? Well, this is a way to find a temporary hiding spot. From there, it’s up to you to decide what you wish to do.”

It would take a sorceress of exception talent and skill to use the talisman properly, but Tiffany assured Marron that she would be able to use it properly. And then, the two made their way to the estate. Tiffany made sure to hide herself in the hood of the oversized cloak, and a quick spell managed to disguise her voice—making her out to be a raspy, old man far too small for their old robes. Marron had to admit, it was an excellent disguise. “It’s sometimes easier to just transform the body to be male temporary,” Tiffany chuckled. “I know a sorceress or two that prefer that route, but not me. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.”

Marron could only nod, only half paying attention. The talisman, despite being just a piece of water, was heavy in her hands. Her mind was racing to figure out what she was going to do with it. There were many candidates in her mind, but she continued going back to that young man that barely interested her still. Ector… he was handsome, but he held little interest for her.

Perhaps… could there be… a chance?

Marron hoped that Tiffany did not notice her racing heart nor her sweaty palms.

Tiffany, disguised as a Sir Leon, arrived soon after with Marron in tow. She hid it off well with Marron’s parents while Marron made an excuse to return to got to bed early. As she lied on her bed, thoughts still full of Tiffany, she made herself a promise: that one day she would once again share the feelings in her heart with that woman who lived so freely.

For Marron’s plant to work, it needed to occur on a day that Ector and her were alone and isolated. She picked a day when her parents were attending a play and invited Ector over to her home. Most of the staff had finished for the day and returned to their quarters, so it was just Ector and her in one of the manor’s spacious rooms. They sat on a couch next to a lit fireplace, doing nothing but sharing stories about themselves. Marron knew that she needed to understand Ector as well as she could for her plan to go right.

"Milord, would you like for me to draw you a relaxing bath before we settle in for the night?" Ector eagerly agreed, and Marron excused herself to the wash room. Half an hour later, she called for Ector to go into the washroom.

Ector walked in, expecting to see Marron waiting for him, but he found no one there. Confused, he peered at the bath and saw the warm water with an odd shade of blue. Still, he trusted his new wife, so he quickly disrobed and climbed inside.

"Haaaah..." he let out a breath of relief as the warm water relaxed his aching muscles. He had spent the hours before joining his wife training and practicing his magical skills. There was a bit of pity in his heart regarding his wife's inability to practice such a talent, but he knew that women needed to follow their role in society.

Unbeknownst to him, Marron was making use of her talents right then and there. In the form of a liquid that resembled the bathroom and hiding just beneath the water's surface, she quickly made her invasion.

"Huh! Wh-What the--?! AAHHH, AHHH!" Ector could only moan in pain and pleasure as the liquid began suddenly entering all available orifices. From bellybutton to urethra, all of it was an opportunity for her to invade.

Once all of Marron slipped inside, Ector collapsed onto the tub, splashing water on the floor as his body convulsed. Inside, a magical battle was taking place, and he was losing. Marron swiftly bound his soul in a spiritual gag and sealed it away in the depths of his heart. Then, she spread her essence throughout his strong, virile body.

Each limb and extremity became warm as Marron took over. She wiggled his toes, flexed his thighs, licked his lips, and cracked the crick in his neck with a strong and masculine sigh. She raised his hand, looking at the back and admiring the fine hairs that ran up and down. To find true freedom within such a society, Marron needed a disguise. What better disguise than her own husband?

For the rest of the night, Marron experimented with Ector’s body and soul. It was easy for Marron to slip inside of Ector while in private and then leave his body while still having him under her influence while in public. Essentially, Ector was something of a disguise for her to wear.

~o~

Time passed, and Ector and Marron happily wed. The two settled down in a small yet still lovely little home near the border between both of their lands.

Suddenly, seemingly out of the blue, “Ector” announced to both families of his new love of research, and he wanted nothing but his wife’s company while he studied and experiment with new types of magic. He attended various seminars, met like-minded individuals, and furthered the field of sorcery with his extraordinary mind—of which none of his peers had suspected he possessed. Meanwhile, his wife remained in the background, subtly taking care of the housework and always a force of encouragement for Ector.

Marron smirked inwardly to herself as she rubbed a sleeping Ector’s back with a single finger. Another day, another list of research goals she wanted to work on. “All right, Ector. Let’s get to work.” She slipped inside of him once more by turning into the odd-colored liquid, and once more his body trembled and ached as Marron’s spirit overwhelmed her husband’s.

“There we go,” said Marron, stretching in Ector’s body and giggling as she felt the bones pop! She rose from the bed, most of Ector’s clothes laying discarded, and made her way to her study. Several tomes lay opened, and she intended to get through most of them today. Once more she began her research, finally satisfied with her life by stealing his.

[shootingstarwritings]

Lmao this'll probably be "Body a Business Day" just to make sure I have time to finish all of these.

[shootingstarwritings]

Body a Day #8: Football

Coach Bryce could feel his hair turning gray as he thought about the team’s current dilemma. “It’s a real shitshow,” he sighed, looking over to gauge the reaction of his beautiful coworker, Sharon Fletcher; she was a renowed researcher at the university and the target of the coach’s heart.

Ever since the two of them had met, Coach Bryce had tried to ask her out for some kind of date, but she was either oblivious or uninterested. However, such a cold reaction only served to fuel Coach Bryce’s passion.

Today, Sharon was once again uncaring to Coach Bryce’s bemoaning. She simply unzipped her lunch-bag and pulled out her meal. Bryce spoke again, voice just a tiny bit louder so she could definitely hear, “All of my players, suspended. Can you believe it?”

Finally, Sharon’s gaze met the coach’s. “All of them? Oh wow, I knew that they had done something wrong in that party last week, but I had no idea it was something of that magnitude.”

“Yeah, well… can’t say they don’t deserve it. But we’ve got a game coming up, so we’re gonna have to just concede it,” said Coach Bryce. He inwardly smiled to himself as he saw the normally stoic Sharon’s expression squeeze into a look of genuine sympathy. At least he had that small comfort in such turbulent times.

However, Sharon’s expression quickly turned into something akin to a predatory grin. A shiver went down the coach’s spine as she began to titter. “Tell me something, Coach Bryce,” she said, leaning in to whisper into his ear. “Can I trust you to keep a secret…? And also sign an NDA beforehand? I think I have a solution that’ll make both you and the Dean happy.

Coach Bryce, neck sweaty and goosebumps running down his arms, just said, “I-I’ll do whatever you want.”

~o~

The Delphi Project was the university’s pride and joy. It was also the most highly-guarded secret the university had. “Delphi was where Apollo’s oracle rested and delivered her visions of the future. It was believed to have been the center of the world by the Ancient Greeks, and…” Sharon continued the history lesson, but Coach Bryce soon stopped listening. Instead, he fumbled around with the buttons of the uncomfortable lab coat he had been given prior to entering. Not only that but the goggles were annoying as well.

“Please do not remove that,” said Sharon with a tight tone and a forced smile. “Lab policies, as I’m sure you’re aware. Right, coach?” Embarrassed, Coach Bryce gave a grunt of affirmation, and Sharon continued the tour. She continued to speak some nonsense or another before stopping in front of a large machine with two pods that resembled tanning booths connected to it. “The Delphi Project concerns itself primarily with human consciousness. Essentially, it is the next step to reaching the digitization and transfer of ‘the soul.’ Some of us here even believe that this is how humanity can reach this place called ‘Paradise,’ or ‘Nirvana.’”

“Oh yeah, heard of their music once or twice," said Coach Bryce, enthusiastic now that he could participate in the discussion. "Dunno if it’s my cup o’ Joe, to be honest, but to each their own!” he said with boisterous laughter.

Sharon’s smile seemed to grow even tighter and her voice became the tiniest bit more strained as she spoke. “Right. Well, as I was saying, the purpose of this machine is the transfer of consciousness. While we have been able to digitize and transfer the human consciousness—the soul, as some would call it—we haven’t been able to find any sort of machine with the space large enough to store it. Nothing… except for another human vessel.”

In other words, the only thing that could be transferred is one person to another. It took a few more explanations for Coach Bryce to understand that, but he got the basic idea. Once he understood that, he could guess what was Sharon’s plan.

“So what you want to do is transfer other people into the bodies of my team, so technically we can still play while still punishing the knuckleheads.” Technical or scientific knowledge wasn’t his forte, but his mind was still crafty and strategic. Once he understood all the pieces on the table, he could put them all together quickly. “Will the Dean even agree to this? Seems… kinda risky. And will my players be okay once this is all over?”

Sharon smile sweetly and assured him that all tests have shown that both parties have suffered no side-effects from the experiments they’ve done. “However, if there is even a single dissenting voice, we will not go through with the experiment. That last thing we would want to do is carry this out without anyone’s explicit consent. We are strict with ethics here. As for the Dean, I believe I can convince her. Delphi is our pride and joy, even if we can’t be out and proud about it. Of course, there is one more caveat to this whole thing you must agree to, coach.”

~o~

To say that the players were shocked and horrified would be an understatement. Coach Bryce gathered them all in the locker room to break the news, which only made their voices even more irritating as they echoed in the small room. Some of the players cried foul, others argued that his was invasive to their rights, while a few let out a few swears about letting a bunch of losers parade around in their bodies. “All right, that’s enough!” Coach Bryce shouted. “I know it’s a weird prospect, but if we want even the slightest chance of making play-offs, we can’t afford to forfeit this next game.”

As always, it was easy for the coach to rile up his players. None of them dared to argue when Coach Bryce brought up the incident that put them in this Catch-22. “And, if I’m being honest… I’ll be in the same boat as y’all,” he said, looking down to avoid his team’s shocked looks as he recounted what Sharon had told him.

“Day of the game, I’ll have to borrow your body in order to properly observe the test subjects during our most important trial run. Don’t worry, you’ll only lose your body for a weekend, at most,” Sharon had said with a most bewitching smile.

Thinking about her tone and voice as she said all of that, Coach Bryce couldn’t help but grow the slightest bit aroused. He hoped that none of his players could see how flushed he was recalling that night. Of course, he also omitted that last part—there was no need for the team to know how uneven the whole deal actually was.

“Even after all of this, we’re still a team!” Coach Bryce suddenly cried out. Not only did he need to convince those last few fence-sitters, but he also needed to distract himself before he got hard in front of all the players. He hadn’t been able to get off properly ever since a messy break-up with his former girlfriend, so Sharon’s siren voice kept bouncing around his skull.

A nice speech would be a good distraction for now. He continued to bellow out platitudes about staying together and how they were all in one boat at the end of the day. “So, please consider. This may be our chance to not throw away everything we’ve worked all semester for. Think about it. Later… we’ll put it to a vote. If we come to a unanimous vote, we’ll go through with it. So if anyone feels uncomfortable, we’ll decline and throw the match.” He retreated back to his office and took a deep breath. Already, there was a plan forming in his head.

When Coach Bryce returned to take the vote, he made sure that the votes could not be anonymous. Just by glancing at the expressions on the players’ faces, he could tell that the majority was willing to go through with it, but there were a few sparse dissenters spread throughout the crowd. However, when he asked, “All in favor?” everyone raised their hands. The peer pressure assured that their fate was sealed. Coach Bryce nodded and told the team that he’d email them Sharon’s instructions.

Later that night, Coach Bryce jerked himself off as he imagined the idea of Sharon being inside of him.

~o~

Game night came and went, and nobody in the audience nor the opposing team suspected any foul play. All the players performed as well as they usually did, baring a minor hiccup or two. The only anomaly that anyone noticed was Coach Bryce, usually watching with a red-face and barking orders at the team, was perfectly stone-faced the entire match, even when the team just barely clutched out a win.

Later, Dr. Sharon Fletcher looked down Bryce’s thick, hairy hands. Due to the various tests they’ve run with Delphi, being a male wasn’t new to her, but she was still surprised by just how masculine the coach was. “Ah, I got distracted again,” she said to herself as she returned to the report on her laptop. It was difficult to type at the speeds she was comfortable with, but that was the price to pay for valuable data at such a close distance.

“Overall, subjects found themselves quickly adapting to their new forms, which supports to the hypothesis that muscle memory is one of the most important factors during learning. It’s possible that…” Coach Bryce’s thick, masculine fingers stopped and stared at the screen. It was one of Sharon’s most frustrating part of being a scientist. She loved getting her hands on interesting data and interpreting it, but it was when she had to stop and write down her thoughts that she found herself unable to commit for long periods of time. “This will revolutionize the field of learning, but…” She let out a sigh before packing up her laptop to leave. Coach Bryce’s office, with all of its football posters, brights flags, and pictures was not the ideal environment to sit down and type out her reports. She would continue in the library tomorrow. With that settled, she left the office and began the trek to her home for the weekend.

Just before Sharon transferred into Bryce’s body, he had given her a copy of the key to his apartment. “It’d be odd if they saw my entering and leaving your home,” he had told her. Well, he had elaborated on the point for quite a while, Sharon hadn’t been interested in his hearing his logic. Her thoughts then and even now were, Why bother caring about who sees you spending time with you? It was nothing to do with how well you can do your job.

Either way, Sharon took the bus to and allowed his muscular legs to carry her to Bryce’s apartment. She thought about it as another opportunity to further her research, but there was something so fascinating about just moving about with Coach Bryce. His natural, mature gait was addicting. Just for research’s sake (her own fun), she continued to walk around the hallways and even up the stairs, forgoing the elevator. Even after climbing several stories, she didn’t even feel the least bit tired. In her old body, she would’ve been halfway dead and anemic by the time she reached Bryce’s apartment, but now she was hardly out of breath. Fascinating, she thought to herself, mistaking her lust for curiosity.

Without thinking, Sharon made her way to Bryce’s apartment and began to shed off his clothes until her borrowed body was clad in nothing but a shirt and a pair of boxers. Oh, huh… I hadn’t meant to take off so much of his clothes, she thought to herself, but her body had moved without her knowledge. Still, Sharon saw no reason to not allow it to continue. It was better to allow the body to continue its natural habits.

It was for that reason that, after drawing a bath, Sharon dipped Coach Bryce’s into the bathtub and relaxed his sore muscles. “Phew… oh, this feels so nice,” said Sharon. After such a long day of experiment, research, and overworking herself, it was nice to relax in a bath. If she could, she would spend all day in a bath and enjoy this nice, burly body. She raised his arms and rested them behind his head, apparently a natural position for the coach to be in with a bath. With soap and a loofah sponge, Sharon explored Bryce’s body. His personality wasn’t anything special, but she enjoyed the way that his body moved whenever he worked out in the gym or in the field outside in the lawn. The sweat dripping from his bearded chin was nice. Usually, Sharon wasn’t really interested in dating men, but their bodies were nice to look at.

And, as she groped and massaged various parts of Bryce’s body, Sharon realized just how nice it was to touch them like this. “Ohh… ohh…! Oh my god!” Somehow, this was the most sensitive body she had ever transferred into. Was the coach simply that much more sensitive than the other hosts, or was the process itself magnifying the sensitivity to touch? Sharon’s scientific mind was going on overdrive while just about every part of her was busy indulging in Coach Bryce’s appealing and overly sexual body. “C-Coach Bryce, y-you’re so… ngh… ahh…!” The moans that escaped his lips drove Sharon insane as well. It became a feedback loop: Sharon, hoping to draw out more data and more moans from Coach Bryce groped his body, which only drew out more automatic moans from her borrowed lungs.

It was also the strength and the sheer amount of command that Sharon had. The thick, almost sausage-like, fingers and powerful core and moved at her command. Coach Bryce was like a glove for her to put on, nothing more. The power behind it was intoxicated. Each muscle obeyed Sharon, and it was because she deserved it.

Coach Bryce’s body stiffened as it felt the inevitable happen. The waves of pleasure that nearly threaten to shatter her very mind. Sharon grit her borrowed teeth, groans of guttural and masculine ecstasy only just barely restrained for the first few torrents of cum that launched high into the air. However, Sharon could not contain it for much longer. She tilted her head back, tongue sticking out as Coach Bryce’s hips thrust on their own as the last of the world-shattering climax erupted through the jiggling, hairy frame.

This is the first time I’ve ever masturbated with such intensity, Sharon thought to herself. She had explored the other test subjects—other professors and coaches at the univerity—and Coach Bryce was definitely her favorite. She had to test out just how and why his body was so sensitive. Yes, she needed more tests. She needed to take over the bodies of all her previous test subjects and continue to explore and compare the pleasure that came from each of them. Only then would her hunger for pleasure and data—two things that were basically the same to her—would be satiated.

Of course, that should be easy to accomplish. Just about every person in campus owes me a favor, and the Dean will certainly enjoy this delicious data—especially if I record it all for her. I wonder how much freedom I can have if I offer to give the Dean such an opportunity? I’m sure she’ll love it now that we know it’s perfectly safe.

Sharon sighed and sank even further into the warm, now slightly milkier, water. Her new muscles certainly seemed to enjoy the sensation. Now all she had to do was to just enjoy the weekend in the perfect body for it.

[shootingstarwritings]

Body a Day #6: Mirror

Milo was the successful CEO of an established tech company. Blessed with three beautiful children, he lived life with no care in the world. It was only when he, deep into his 50’s yet still looking and feeling virile, went to the doctor’s that he discovered that he was going to die.

“It’s terminal,” said the doctor, offering his deepest condolences as he broke the news. He continued on, giving him an explanation regarding the illness, but Milo wasn't listening. His mind was still racing. He only responded when the doctor asked, “Would you like us to contact your family members?”

“No thank you, doctor. I have… a procedure for this. Family tradition, to be exact,” said Milo as he stared off into the distance. He thanked the staff and made his way home, glancing at himself in every passing reflection he could.

Arriving home in his penthouse suite, Milo sat down on his couch with a drink in hand. He stared out into the city skyline on a perfect sunset. On a normal day, he wouldn’t have given it a second glance. Now, all he could do was stare, transfixed by the transient sight, lost in his thoughts.

Which of my sons should I leave my inheritance to?

Milo was a father of three, but the youngest child, a girl by the name of Melanie, was not an option. That left two options: Matthew—who preferred Matt—and Mortimer—who didn’t like to be called Mort.

“Matthew’s a strong candidate, but Mort has his own little charms,” Milo muttered to himself, hoping that the crackling of the fire on his TV screen would help his concentration. He swirled a wine glass filled with a sugary grape juice as he hummed to himself. He wasn’t thinking particularly hard, but he figured that this was what all great thinkers usually looked like before getting hit by an epiphany, so there was merit to copying them in his current dilemma.

And yet, Milo found himself far too indecisive. After going through an entire jug of grape juice, he wandered over to his bathroom and began to monologue to his attractive face in the mirror. “Oh, my dying self,” he began, thinking back to his past as a theater actor. What should happen to my darling company and all my struggles? Will they vanish to the wind, nothing but hollow husks as they erode into dust?” He continued for quite a while before leaning into the mirror and giving it a quick kiss. “Oh, only you could understand someone like me…”

It had only been a few years since the entity was reborn as Milo. It wasn’t difficult to take over the rich CEO, but if he had known that Milo’s body would expire so quickly, he would’ve taken over one of the rotten kids earlier. Mel was still in college, but Matthew and Mort were already in high positions in the companies that Milo owned. They were set for life. However, Milo’s indecisiveness often held him back from just making a choice and doing it. Hell, taking over Milo was a choice that took about a week between him and his business partner, Niles.

Both were attractive, but after seeing Milo lounging around the steps on the company, the entity made its choice.

While the (relatively) brief period of time as Milo was great, part of that was thanks to all the cumshots Niles had pumped into his aged yet virile ass, now that it was coming to an end, Milo found himself in despair.

That was when the epiphany finally struck. Milo ran towards his room and gathered the necessary materials for the ritual. It only took about an hour to arrange everything properly. The candles were lit, the blood (hidden beneath a secret compartment in the freezer) was used and evaporated properly, and soon a burst of magic echoed into the night. Milo’s magic always looked like purple mist that smelled faintly of lavender.

“So, my other self,” Milo said, grinning at his own reflection. “Which one of my children do you wish to give your inheritance to?”

“Mmm…” said the other Milo, although it was ridiculous for them to be referred to as the ‘other.’ They weren’t two halves of a whole, but two congruent images of a soul. It was Milo and Milo. Any differences were quirks in the spellcraft and little more. “It’s amazing how we’ve ended up twice as indecisive with two of us. So instead, how about we flip a coin?”

Fate was a harsh mistress, but when looking at it from the perspective of ‘one Milo per son,’ then there was no reason for either of them to complain.

Matthew sounded excited when Milo dialed him up on the phone. “I’ll be right over there, my dear father,” he said with a honeyed yet forced voice. He was kind, considerate, and prideful to a fault; he was always so sure that his kind demeanor and charisma would give him a golden ticket through life, ignoring just how much of his father’s fortune and influence allowed him to fly through life.

There was a bit of guilt for Milo, as he had genuinely grown attached to these children that weren’t his, but he didn’t want to die. He had never died while possessing a host, and he didn’t want to risk the consequences of doing so. The worst thought was being trapped inside the dead host, unable to escape the prison of flesh as it slowly rotted away… turning into dust like that of Ozymondias’ kingdom.

Ash to ash… dust to dust… Those words always made a shudder creep down his spine. It was nerve-wracking. Horrifying. No, Milo needed to do this. They needed to do this. “Relax, myself,” his reflection assured him, smiling despite the anxiety in his eyes. “You u are no loonger alone. If one of us were to perish, the other would save him. Remember that, okay?” he said with a wink.

Milo nodded and waited for Matthew to arrive. When he did, Milo wasted no time guiding him towards his room, where a special mirror was awaiting him. As Matthew walked inside, he asked, “Why in your room, dad?” He looked around and took a quick whiff. “Hmm… it’s a nice smell. Is that… orange…?” Amazingly, Matthew wandered the room on his own, looking around various trinkets and decorations that Milo had gathered even since taking on his most recent host. “You’ve got quite the odd collection, dad. It’s… uh… huh…?” It was inevitable, but he walked right in front of the mirror.

“Must be a strange sight, huh?” said Milo, leaning against the door frame and shooting out an email from his phone. A bright light flooded the room, which made him glad that he wasn’t looking directly at it. He could hear a panicked scream from the eldest son, but Milo just shrugged and continued to look away. He knew that Matthew saw his father’s reflection instead of his own, and then saw the same image burst out of the mirror and flood his younger and more virile body.

“Quick, to the mirror!” Milo’s other half, now Matthew, cried out. For whatever reason—perhaps a fundamental law of the universe—Milo could feel his essence beginning to vanish. Was it because he was lacking a reflection? Most likely. But Milo didn’t have much time to think. He uttered a quick incantion and then jumped through the glass as though it was a pool of water. Immediately, the sensation of his very molecules being pulled apart as though being ravaged by some invisible, fearsome beast. “Phew, that was close,” said Matthew as he looked down at the panting, sweaty mess that was Milo.

“Sh-Shut up…”

“Hey, you’re alive, right?” grinned Matthew. “All right, I’m gonna give Mort a call and get him to come by. In the meantime, sit tight and get ready, ok?”

Milo sat up and looked around. Anything that was beyond what the mirror reflected was just a gray, foggy void. Essentially, he was trapped in that small pocket of a reflection until someone else looked into the enchanted mirror. “Not like I have much of a choice,” he said, looking down to see a phone with all the numbers and symbols mirrored, making it difficult to read. It also lacked any reception, which made enough sense to piss Milo off. “Just don’t take too long. Hey! Pay attention!” he shouted as the new Matthew began to strip and check out his new, stolen goods.

It took far too long to get Matthew back in control. Maybe I really should’ve recommended for him to get tested for ADHD. I had my suspicions when I took over his father for the first time, thought Milo, reflection on the oldest son’s behavior once more. But eventually Matthew dialed up Mort’s number, who picked up with his usual greeting. “Don’t call me Mort,” he said just before Matthew eagerly greeted him with a “Heya, Mort!”

The two went back and forth, and Milo, despite being in what was essentially a reality away, could still make out most of what Mort said due to all the exasperated yelling. Matthew went wildly off-script, but all it took was a mention that he was over at Milo’s place talking business for Mort to suddenly cry out, “I’m on my way! Hold up.”

Milo and Matthew shared amused smirks and awaited the middle son’s arrival. They didn’t have to wait long. Mort arrived just 20 minutes later, panting and sweay from most likely running up the stairs—forgoing the building’s elevator. “Where’s dad?!” he cried, pushing past his brother and stomping around the apartment. Matthew gestured towards Milo’s open room door, and Mort rushed inside. “Father, I have my reservations regarding—the fuck…? W-Woah, AHHH!”

~o~

Months after Milo’s funeral, Melanie found herself enjoying a family dinner for the first time in what felt like decades. The siblings had gone out for dinner and not a single fight occurred the entire meal! Melanie could feel her blood pressure lowering the more she found herself engaged pleasant talk with her siblings. They smiled, joked, and showed that they were listening to her stories. Not longer did they roll their eyes, check their phones, or just not even bother paying attention to her and instead bring up complicated business deals and numbers to each other, pointedly ignoring her.

After the meal, the three returned to Matt’s home and played a few cards game. Melanie found herself on a bit of a lucky streak by the end of night, managing to get to 21 during the last few rounds of Blackjack.

“It’s been frankly amazing!” she said to her siblings as they walked her to her husband’s car. “I can’t remember the last time we had so much fun. I…” she paused and choked back a sob. Matt pulled her in for a side-hug while Mort told her that the two of them promised each other that they’d get along better.

“Dad wouldn’t have wanted us to keep on fighting,” he told her, smiling with eyes twinging with regret. “Just wish he could see us getting along better.”

Melanie reached out and gripped Mort’s hand. “Something tells me that he can. And I’m sure he’s proudly looking down on us. Thanks for everything, you two. Good night.” With those parting words, Melanie joined her husband. She didn’t notice the knowing look Matt and Mort gave each other.

“Well my dear brother,” began Matt as he looked through his closet. After the funeral, Matt made sure to take all of his old clothes from his days as Milo. No reason to let such fashionable fabrics go to waster, after all. “Glad we made our dear sister smile again. I think tonight was a Mission Accomplished. Oooh, I think this one fits the new me,” he said as he put on a floral-patterned Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned of course, and a pair of cargo shorts. He showed them off to Mort, making sure to flex to show off his core muscles. “I think the try-hard, sweat-lord life is behind me now that my dad has passed on and left so much money and influence to me. It’s time to just relax and cruise on by.”

Mort chuckled as he stripped off most of his shoes, content with just a pair of briefs that snugly hugged his crotch. “Of course, dear brother… my other half…” he said, lying back and letting out a relaxed sigh. “These bodies of ours were so exhausted when we got to them. They deserve a vacation, don’t they?”

Matt climbed on the bed and lied on top of Mort’s, who let out a moan. “That they do, Mort. So let’s give it to them.” They pulled each other close and kissed. Their hands went wild as they explored each other’s body for what could’ve easily been the 20th time, their lustful expressions identical. For once, Matt and Mort were equals in the other’s eyes; they became mirrored halves that made the other whole.

[shootingstarwritings]

I appreciate all the support I’ve been getting for my followers. Things are still a little hectic on my end but I’ve got most of the stories for Body a Day written out finally. Now it’s a matter of finding some good pics and editing them. Hope to get back on track this upcoming Monday!

In the meantime I have a question. Which of my stories do y’all like and would like to see a follow-up on? Obviously Festival Fiasco won’t be an option since that’ll be getting some more updates hopefully by November.

[shootingstarwritings]

A Single Kiss with Matching Singlets

part 2/2

Coach Reynolds was an older man and head of the wrestling team. Standing tall and clearly proud of the team he had led to victory year after year, he intimidated most of the other coaches throughout the state. He was stern and assertive on the wrestling mat, yet patient and forthcoming in his office. Many former members of the wrestling team described him as having an ‘uncle-like’ air. Not quite immediate family, but trustworthy nonetheless. At least, that’s what Kyle gathered about the man.

Appearance-wise, he was an older, bearded, and hairy man with years of experience. He was the former champion during his days in university, and he reminded the team of that at the start of every new semester. Though the coach had grown a slight gut as he aged, not a soul doubted the muscles one could gain only through years of dutiful devotion to the sport. Perhaps he wore such tight shirts and jackets to accent the body he was so prideful of.

“It’s rare to see you so talkative,” the coach said, not looking up from the documents he was filling out. He sat by his deck with a pair of rarely-seen reading glasses.

All I said was, “Can we meet in your office after practice? I wish to talk about something personal.” Just how little does Zack even speak?’ The more time spent in Zack’s body, the less Kyle understood about him.

“So,” began Coach Reynolds. He removed his glasses with a swift and practiced flick of his wrist and set them down on the table. Smiling with the warmth that someone who was a father to his students, he asked, “What can I help you with? Come to think of it, this is probably the first time you wanted to talk to me like this. What brought this on?”

“Well, um…” How was he supposed to react? It wasn’t easy, staring at the man who was essentially his romantic rival. At first, Kyle went through a barrage of excuses to distract the coach, but he found it difficult to come up with a lie as he stared at the coach’s genuine and questioning eyes. How Kyle wished that the coach had Namba’s shaggy hair to cut off the eye-contact.

Lowering his gaze, Kyle’s eyes locked onto the golden band that Coach Reynolds always wore proudly wore to work. Kyle knew the story. They had split a few years ago, but Coach Reynolds still wore that wedding ring. Whether it was loyalty or denial, he wasn't certain. “I wish to talk… a-about love.”

Chuckling, Coach Reynolds relaxed and shifted back into his seat. “Love, huh?” he said with a playful smirk. Kyle could tell that the coach had been waiting for someone to ask him about that. “Well, this ol’ dog could certainly teach ya some new tricks. Have a seat, let’s hear you out.”

“There’s someone I love, but they clearly love someone else…” Kyle began like that, and then continued. On occasion, he would accidentally slip and say, “he,” while speaking, but aside from a curious eyebrow raise, the coach didn’t interrupt. Was it another of Zack’s quirks that influenced Kyle, or was Kyle simply waiting for someone with coach’s demeanor to influence him? Whatever it was, it certainly seemed to help get his mouth moving and his lips flapping.

Still, Kyle felt himself able to speak freely. Calmly. Not only that, but he felt… heard. Namba would sometimes tease or cut in to talk about his own opinion, but coach’s gentle prodding and listening was far more effective. “And… and that is all,” finished Kyle.

“Well, that’s certainly the intense revelation you gave, Zack,” the coach said, each word carefully measured. “But! That doesn’t mean I don’t have any advice to give you. Don’t worry, I’ve got just the thing for you.” He stood up and wandered over to his desk, giving a great view of his ass hugged by those gray sweatpants he always loved to wear.

Kyle definitely preferred Zack, but he couldn’t deny just how hot the coach was. He had seen the man sweating it out in the gym when he wasn’t coaching the players—and he loved seeing the coach drench his clothes with sweat. Kyle couldn’t help but wonder how the coach smelled. As Coach Reynolds stood up and walked over to his file cabinet—just what was he searching for?—Kyle silently stood up and made his move.

“Sorry, coach,” said Kyle with Zack’s voice as he wrapped both muscular arms around the coach’s meaty frame. As Coach Reynolds began to panic, Kyle leaned into his ear and whispered, “I do think you’re a great man, for all that’s worth,” and made his move. Exiting through Zack’s trembling torso, Kyle forced his spiritual essence to phase through the coach’s back and into his core.

Like a puppet cut from its strings, Zack fell on the ground, unconscious after over a day of not being in control.

Coach Reynolds, on the other hand, remained standing and trembling as he felt a student’s essence overpowering his own. “N-No, get outta… nrgh…! Outta me!” Coach Reynolds reached out for the door, but his legs were already under Kyle’s control. Then, his own arms betrayed him as they gracefully shed off his sweatpants, shaking his hips the whole time. “The fuck…?” was all he managed to say as his cock, bulging beneath his used jockstrap, flew at high mast and began to leak precum. His bare ass shivered as a breeze blew through the office.

Coach Reynolds struggled and moaned as he tried to reclaim control over his body, but it was too late as Kyle grabbed his shirt and windbreaker and tossed them off. Clad in just a leaky jockstrap, Kyle explored the coach’s wonderful body in the privacy of his new office. Zack continued to sleep, even as Kyle let out a roar of pure ecstasy and blew his first load all over the office, some drops even landing on Zack’s open and drooling mouth.

“I can see why you think this hunky piece of ass is your ideal man,” Kyle said, smirking as he flexed and kissed Coach Reynold’s bulging biceps. “I’ll have a bit of fun with him before asking you out on our little date.”

~o~

Sitting down on the booth of a burger joint, Tim scrolled mindlessly through a phone that wasn’t his until the burly Coach Reynolds sat down in front of him. “Ah, if it isn’t my favorite coach,” he said, putting his phone down and resting his chin on his hand, smirking. “How’s the body feeling?” He took a quick whiff and chuckled. “Already beat one out or two?”

Kyle’s eyes widened. “How did you now? You got some kinda bloodhound nose or something?”

“Nah, but Tim’s got a sharp sense of smell. Probably cuz he doesn’t wanna get glasses.” Namba shrugged. “Already ordered for ya, by the way. Asked for the, urgh, the bacon triple burger," Namba's borrowed nose wrinkled as he said that.

“Oh, thank god. Dunno why, but Coach Reynolds’ body is constantly craving meat. Was about to go insane with hunger once I was done with a quick workout and jerk-off session. I haven’t had a single fruit or veggie all day. Not even a snack. Just craving meat, meat, meat.”

Namba chuckled. “A strong soul like the coach’s will naturally force more of his personality onto you.” Grinning lewdly, Namba lifted up his shirt and rubbed Tim’s toned and distinctly hairier core. “You have to tame these hosts we’re using. Usually, you gotta force them to submit, my friend.”

“Submit?” Kyle tilted his head. He had thought that jerking off was enough to wrangle coach’s soul. At the very least, shouldn’t the possession itself be enough to force someone’s soul to submit?

When Kyle asked that, Namba wagged his finger, letting Tim’s shirt fall and regaining some semblance of modesty. “No, no. This is why you’re to remain a novice without someone like me to teach you the ropes, kiddo.”

“Don’t call me that when I’m in this body,” said Kyle, lowering his voice. “People’ll give us weird looks.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I put up a few precautions before you arrived.” As if to illustrated his point, Namba climbed up the table and lied on top of it before peeling off Tim’s cargo shorts and throwing off the shirt in just a few quick motions.

Kyle looked around, but nobody came to protest. Not even any of the staff. In fact, looking over at the staff on the counter, none of them were moving. Not even blinking. “What…?”

“Time bubble. Advanced stuff,” said Namba in between moans as he started to touch and pleasure himself. Tim’s boxers-briefs were still on, but didn’t seem to care. He still caressed and licked every bit of Tim’s body he could reach, occasionally rubbing the cock beneath the fabric as a dark spot began to form. “In public places like these are a great way to tame unruly hosts, y’know. How about we make sure that our host bodies enjoy the remainder of our three days?”

Kyle stared at the scene before him, hunger temporarily forgotten. Already, he could feel the testosterone in Coach Reynolds’ body working overtime as he beheld Tim’s naked and tempting body. “I-I… sure. Sure, let’s do it.”

“Well?” Namba spread Tim’s legs, his feet hanging off the booth’s table. “What’re you gonna do to me, coach?” he asked with a playful sincerity. “I thought we were just gonna eat together?”

“Oh, I’m about to devour the snack before me, all right,” said Kyle as he stripped himself, having already had plenty of practice with it. Coach Reynolds’ used jockstrap was the last thing he took off, and he twirled it on his fingers and a few times while playfully slapping Tim’s hole with his erect cock.

“O-Oh, now that’s a keeper…” said Namba, his expression, while still smug, growing a bit concerned. “A-Are you sure that’s gonna fit inside of me, my friend? T-Tim’s not exactly used to stuff up his ass.”

Kyle leaned in, chest resting against Tim’s own, and he said, “I’ll stretch it out real nice for ya, kid. Once I’m through with ya, you’ll be able to fit a whole cucumber inside.”

A tiny dribble of precum launched from Tim’s cock and landed on his stomach. Namba gulped and said, “Go for it.”

Kyle went was slow at first, just to make sure Coach Reynolds’ cock didn’t hurt too badly. Whenever Namba would groan in pain, Kyle would caress his cheek or give him a calming kiss as he pounded Namba’s ass.

“Ngh…! Oh, f-fuck…!” said Namba, writhing in Tim’s body as Kyle thrust in and out Tim’s tight ass. The table creaked and moaned from the sheer force that Kyle was using in the coach’s body. “F-Fuck me harder, c-c’mon!” Namba shouted, his eyes fluttering from the sheer pleasure and strength Coach Reynolds used. “We-We’re really doing this in public? Ohhh, you’re such a pervert, coach! Wh-What if someone walks in?”

Kyle forced the coach’s body to grin. “What’s wrong, Tim? ‘fraid that someone’s gonna see how much of a slut you are?” he said, punctuating ‘slut’ with a particularly deep thrust. Another strong shot of precum launched out of Tim’s cock. Namba reached down to jerk himself off, but Kyle slapped his hand away. “Oh don’t worry, boy. I’ll make ya cum hands-free!”

He lifted up both of Tim’s legs and slung them over his shoulders. With every thrust, he would pull him by the ankles to get just a tiny bit more leverage. Namba seemed to be enjoying it, as his hands gripped the sides of the trembling table until his knuckles were white.

Inside, however, was a different story. “N-No, not in public,” the voice of Coach Reynolds said inside of him. Kyle nearly stopped, but he was far too horny and far too deep inside of his new fucktoy. “G-Get out of me. This is my body!” There was a bit of pressure from inside of Coach Reynolds’ body, but Kyle didn’t mind.

“You’re mine,” Kyle found himself saying, flexing on his arms and enjoy the rippling muscles as he posed and increased the speed of his thrusts into Namba, who looked like he was about to fall unconscious. “This is my fucking body, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it! I’m a fucking stud of a man that does nothing but breed young men, and that’s the truth of it! This is who I am!”

“Yes, coach! It’s who you are!” Namba joined in, staring up in the ceiling as his mind continued to experience unbelievable pleasure. “Ohhh, breed me! Breed this hairy hole I got just for you.”

“I’m gonna breed ya and mark ya. Fuck, fuck…! I’m, I’m gonna—WOAAAAHH!” Kyle let out a cry as his climax reached its peak, and he blew his load and coated all of Tim’s inside with the coach’s thick cum.

“Holy fuck, coach!” Namba cried out as his own cock, still untouched, shot its own load. Most landed on his borrowed chest, but a few shot far enough to land on his face.

Coach Reynolds’ voice became softer and more quiet as Kyle continued to dominate his body. “I-I’m… This is your body. Use it as you like...” Coach Reynolds’ voice said before finally becoming silent.

So… I tamed him. But what does that even mean? And, is it bad that I want more? thought Kyle.

“Mm… tasty,” said Namba, knocking Kyle out of his thoughts. He reached down and scooped up some of the cum with a finger and licked it. “Tim never gets any less tasty. Though I think it’s my essence making him so delicious.” Chuckling, he lied back, head resting on his hands and hole overflowing with cum. “Drink up this sight, my friend. This is what we get with magic. See how rewarding this is?”

Kyle nodded, thoroughly exhausted. He sat down on one of the booth seats, rubbing his sore thighs. “That was… amazing!”

“Amazing and so much more, my friend,” said Namba. “So, what will you do now? Visit Michael or…?”

Nodding, Kyle said, “Yeah, that was the plan. But, honestly…” he hesitate before finally saying, “I was thinking… what if I stayed in coach’s body? What if I made this permanent?” It had only been a day and a few sexual experiences, but the urge to never leave was slowly becoming more and more attractive to Kyle. “Is that even possible?”

Namba cocked an eyebrow, his smile disappearing. “Yeah, but… you sure this is the body you want? Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad body and all, but this is a big decision. And…” he let out a thoughtful hum, tapping his fingers on the table. “I can make it for sure, but not yet. Probably not until the semester’s mostly over. Until then,” he grinned and ruffled Coach Reynolds’ short hair, “I’ll keep cooking up some of that concoction for the two of us. Build that little relationship with Michael while I research for a way to make this sorta thing permanent. And, prepare yourself. You’ll be leaving your life behind.”

“And you? Are you gonna take over someone permanently? Like Tim?”

Namba shook his head. “I wanna take over someone hot and rich. Tim’s just a nice ride to chill out in for a few days.” He flexed Tim’s much lither body and ran his hands down his torso. “In the meantime, we gotta finish up our lease and this semester, my friend.” Namba looked down at his watch. “You got one more day until my next concoction, what’ll you do?”

Now it was Kyle’s turn to grin. “Whaddaya think? I’m gonna win over my new love."

~o~

Walking around in Coach Reynolds’ body felt like a reward of its own, so Kyle elected to do that to head back to his office. Zack was long-gone, believing he had just passed out while coach asked him to stay behind for a brief talk. With the office clear and most classes done for the day, Kyle sent an email to Michael asking him to meet up to discuss the team’s future as well as discussion regarding the next captain.

As he walked back, Kyle thought back to what Namba had explained. Their hosts wouldn’t remember exactly what happened while being possessed, but their experiences would leave little marks on their souls. It wouldn’t be anything significant without repeated possessions and behavior adjustments, but it had its merit. “It’ll make it a lot easier for us to take them over. Though I’ll probably hop inside someone else,” Namba had told him. “But you can even influence their behavior even while you’re not inside.”

I could probably get coach to keep seducing Michael while I’m not inside of him, thought Kyle, a spring in the coach’s step. Then, once I take over coach forever, I’ll already be in a relationship with Kyle. It seemed so perfect that Kyle had little belief it would ever fail. With that, he soon arrived.

Michael was seated on a bench right outside the office, but brightened up once he noticed Kyle approaching. “Oh, hey coach!” he greeted with a radiant smile that Kyle knew would soon enough be reserved only for him. “Dunno how of much my experience is gonna mean much, but I’m more than happy to help out!”

With a hearty, almost fatherly, chuckle, Kyle patted Michael on the back and assured him that, “You’re far more helpful and valuable than you think, Michael.” Slowly, he allowed his hand to slide just a bit further down before pulling back. “C’mon, we’ve got a lot to talk about.” The rest of the visit was full of small touches and mild flirting and winks. Michael would flush at most of Kyle’s light advances, but didn’t shy away from it.

Throughout the next few weeks, Kyle would use the coach’s body to tease, caress, and flirt with Michael, who subtly invited them in. Towards the end of the semester, during the final of their little meetings, Michael said, “Are you flirting with me, coach…?” There was a longing tone in his voice as he looked up at Coach Reynolds’. He was hesitant, nervous, embarrassed, and hopeful.

Just how long had Kyle waited for Michael to see him like that? He wasn’t sure, but he knew that, at least, that time was at an end. With Coach Reynolds’ thick fingers, he gently guided Michael’s chin for a passionate, sensual kiss. Kyle’s borrowed tongue guided Michael’s more inexperienced one, and the two soon collapsed into a pile of tangled limbs. “I’ve waited so long for this day,” said Michael, unknowingly voicing both of their thoughts.

~o~

The day arrived. Namba served two bowls with a concoction that somehow smelled like lilacs this time. After agreeing to keep in touch, the two went their separate ways—towards their new lives. Namba went to his rich uncle’s company while Kyle paid one last visit to Coach Reynolds’ office.

Brimming with confidence, he knocked on the door and shouted, “Coach, daddy’s home!” without a hint of shame. So much had happened this semester, and now he was ready to finally embrace the future as someone new.

Coach Reynolds opened the door with dread on his face. “G-Get away from me,” he managed to utter, even as he allowed Kyle to strut inside. He shut the door and began to strip his clothes. It made the possession much easier. “H-How are you doing this…? What is happening to me?” Just speaking with his own will seemed to be a challenge for him, let alone resisting the power of Namba’s concoction.

Kyle walked over and planted a kiss on the coach’s neck. “This is your destiny, coach. This is how your story ends,” he said, placing two of his hands on both of coach’s pecs. His hands began sinking into his body as though Coach Reynolds was nothing but a pool of water. He let out a low groan, trembling. “And this is how our story begins.”

Pushing Coach Reynolds against the wall, Kyle slowly forced his way inside of his future and permanent body. “N-No! Get outta me, kid! D-Don’t do this!” Coach Reynolds clutched his head with both hands, almost ripping off his hair as he felt Kyle’s consciousness and memories swallowing his own. It was as if he was being consumed from the inside out. “You’re g-gonna kill me… I’m disappearing… N-No, please stop…!”

“You won’t die,” said Kyle. By now, most of his body was inside of the coach. All that was left was the top part of his torso and his head that awkwardly hung from coach's burly chest. “We’re becoming one, coach. Isn’t it great? You can feel it, right? How pleasurable this is for us? For me?”

Coach Reynolds grit his teeth, but soon his arms fell limp by his sides. “Y-Yes… this is hot for me,” he admitted, both ashamed and aroused as Kyle’s essence began to bind with his own. As two souls became one, Coach Reynolds became convinced that he was Kyle, that he was another half that was returning home and becoming whole. “Keep it up,” he moaned, thrusting in the air as Kyle fully dove into his body. “Ahhh! Oh, fuck! Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

Coach Reynolds slid down the wall and fell to his knees, his whole body trembling as a merging of souls occurred inside. Memories of pleasure, pain, madness, and ecstasy all blended together into a cocktail of euphoria until, “HOLY FUCK!” The new Coach Reynolds let out a guttural roar of pleasure as he achieved the most intense orgasm of his life—and the very first of his new life. Streams of cock shot high into the air. One, two, more and more until he lost count. He came his entire load until he was shooting blanks, hips still thrusting into the empty air until he just collapsed on his side, entire body alight with a pleasurable soreness.

There was no need to explore his new body, Coach Reynolds was already accustomed to it after half a semester of taking it over. He just stood up on shaky legs and stretched. Kyle was gone, but he wasn’t at the same time. A new being was born, but he still carried the name Coach Reynolds. The old coach wasn’t gone, either, but it was mainly the one who used to be Kyle in control. The new Coach Reynolds put his clothes back on and checked his phone.

One message from Michael, asking the coach when their first official date would be. Coach Reynolds smiled and gleefully began his brand new relationship to celebrate his brand new life.