swapsrus

[swapsrus]

Alien Next Door

The late afternoon sun slanted across my front porch in warm, honeyed rays when I answered the door and found Mr. Lenny - my next-door neighbor and rival dad - standing there utterly naked. His skin gleamed pink in the light, every contour of his body laid bare. He wore the same sheepish, almost-boyish grin he always did when trying to best my father, only now his bravado was entirely unclothed. My gaze flicked down to the undeniable evidence to his arousal, then back up to his face, which quivered with a strange mixture of embarrassment and want.

"I don't know what to do with this," he confessed, his voice low and rough as he wrapped a trembling hand around his stiff cock. A little electric shock of pleasure arced through him, making his spine arch and a soft groan float into the quiet are between our houses.

"Jesus Christ. Come inside." I seized his forearm, surprised by how warm and soft his skin felt beneath my fingers. He shivered as I led him past the threshold. I parted the curtain for a quick glance down the block: no neighbors peering from windows, no one gossiping in their yards. At least for a moment, we were alone.

Mr. Lenny and my father has always been locked in this toxic, testosterone-fueled contest. If Dad tinkered under his car's hood, Lenny would install a better engine. Dad planted begonias, and Lenny answered with exotic orchids in bloom. They'd paint their houses bold new colors, then swap insults across the fence as though they were school kids. The final straw had come when Lenny - drunk on pride - called me a fag in front of the entire block.

"Don't you dare say that about my son," Dad had roared from the back yard.

"Whatever, Frank," Lenny sneered over his shoulder.

"My boy's proud of who he is," Dad's fury was so thick I could taste it, "at least my son loves me," he muttered under his breath, then called Lenny a "piece of shit." I pressed my cheek to the curtain, praying he hand's noticed me eavesdropping.

How had it come to this? It started only hours before, when I'd come home from college to visit. I was crossing Lenny's freshly cultivated lawn - still wet from an early morning watering - when a tiny, saucer-shaped ship had materialized overhead and scorched the blossoms into smoking husks. I'd stared in horror as the crafted skidded to a stop in the grass. Lenny charged outside, red-faced and roaring invectives at me: "You worthless faggot!"

I'd bent down to inspect the little alien pod when it began to hum and tremble in my hand. Lenny kept shouting until a thick, pearlescent ooze burst free, lurching towards him like a wild animal. Before I could blink, the slime was clinging to his mouth, snaking between his lips.

"Do not worry, human," a calm, disembodied voice issued from the fluid. "I will take care of him. In return, I ask only for your secrecy."

I nodded. Lenny's struggled grew more frantic as the goo worked its way inward, filling his cheeks and throat. I watched, breathless, as the slime coursed up his neck in rippling waves. His limbs twitched, then buckled. He fell to all fours, head vibrating, making guttural moans that shivered through the front yard. A filament of pinkish slime rolled over his eyes, and then he collapsed.

Moments later, Lenny began to twitch and tremble, his body convulsing as if charged with an electric current. His limbs jerked unpredictably and his eyes fluttered, until, with a sudden jolt, he found himself standing upright on the lawn. The transformation was palpable; his posture was straighter, his gaze steadier, and an unmistakable aura of newfound confidence radiated from him.

"Greetings, human," he said, voice gentle and measured. He flexed long fingers, testing his new anatomy. "I apologize for the dramatic entrance. I am stranded - crash landed, you might say - and require temporary habitation within this vessel."

I stared, still felling the echoes of panic and awe. "So you're inside him now?"

"In him," it confirmed, nodding. Its eyes flicked down, and a curious, amused smile spread across its lips. "This human meant you harm. Perhaps we can improve his personality in the process."

A thrill of wicked excitement sparked inside me. "Honestly, It's be kind of hot if you just stayed in him. An alien inhabiting my sexy neighbor sounds...wild." I shrugged, heart racing.

The creature cocked its head as if contemplating my suggestion. Then it grinned, a slow, knowing curve of the lips - and, with a faint hum, a fresh wave of energy ripple through Lenny's body.

That was when I first met this creature - now It followed me as I led it cautiously toward my bedroom, every step echoing on the hallway wood floors.

Once inside the dimly lit room, the alien sighed and glanced downward. Its cheeks flushed a soft rose when it started understanding what this might mean.

"I can't seem to make it go down," it murmured, voice hushed and oddly vulnerable, as the full weight of its throbbing cock bounced in front of me.

"Even when I shake it, a small wave of satisfaction washes over me, but it never quite reaches the shore of fulfillment. I'm at a loss for what to do next." He began to sway his hips, sending them into a rhythmic motion, swinging back and forth with a loose, easy grace.

"See?" He paused, euphoric grin spreading across his face, as he looked up at me with eyes blazing.

"Look. I can help you with it. Don't worry," I murmured, moving closer with purpose. My fingers wrapped around his length, and he shivered violently, my touch igniting a storm of electric pulses through his body. He clutched my wrist with an intensity that matched his deep, guttural moan.

His confession came as a husky whisper, "I've never felt this way before." His eyes locked onto mine, a primal, insatiable lust burning in their depths, begging for more. Seeing my neighbor like this, Mr. Lenny bare and unabashed, his rugged body at my mercy, sent a wave of heat coursing through me. I pressed him against the wall, his breath hitching from the contact. He pulled me closer, his body molding to mine, his hands mirroring my movements as if dancing to an unheard thirty. His touch was electric, his hand slipping into my pants, fingers wrapping around my aching length. My eyes fluttered closed, a gasp escaping my lips at the jolt of pleasure.

"Fuck, yes," I moaned, my hands exploring the expanse of his chest, tracing the lines of his body. I turned him, his palms flat against the wall, my body pressing against his, my cock nestled against his ass.

"This is new," he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down my spine. "What are you doing with that erection?" I slapped his hand, a sharp sound that echoed through the room. He jumped, not from fright, but from excitement. "I wish you to do more," he rasped, his body arching back towards me. I could see his muscles tense as my fingers traced the curve of his ass. I grabbed his waist, my cock pressing against his entrance, pushing inside him. The pressure was intense, his body yielding to mine until suddenly, I was enveloped in his heat. He moaned, his body trembling, his cock jumping at the invasion. I reached around him, my hand wrapping around his length, stroking him in time with my thrusts.

"Wow, this human interaction is incredible," he groaned, his body writhing under my touch. I could feel his body pulsing around my cock, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Can you..." I hesitated, my voice trembling with pleasure and uncertainty. "Can you act like him?" I asked, my body shaking with need.

He grunted, a low sound that sent vibrations through his body and down to my cock. You mean treat you like he did before?" he growled.

"Yeah, but like, still beg me to fuck you. I don't know. I'm kind of - " I was interrupted by his wicked grin.

"Fuck me like you mean it, faggot," he rasped, his body tightening around my cock. "You just gonna let me get away with all the shit I've done?" His words sent a way of heat coursing through me, my fingers tightening around his waist and cock, my body aching with need.

He tapped into ap rival region of his brain where Mr. Lenny still lurked. The memories and attitude crashed onto his face like a convincing costume. I started jackhammering so fiercely that I didn't notice his cock was dripping, each thrust flicking pre-cum on the wall like a filthy paintbrush.

"That's it.," he growled, voice thick with lust. "Show me you're a real man. Fuck that ass like you own it." He was grunting like a wild beast, and I couldn't tear myself away. I gripped him so tightly, my fingers dug into his flesh like claws, desperate to leave bruises.

Just as my balls tightened, ready to explode, he flipped the script. He shoved me off, my cock popping out of his ass with a wet sucking sound, making him groan like a starving beast. He pushed me back onto the bed, climbing on top, my cock sliding back into his hungry hole, guided by his firm hand. Spreading his cheeks, he engulfed my cock again, and then he was riding me like a man possessed - which he was. He pinned my arms above my head, his breath hot on my ear.

"You're gonna fill this fucking ass," he snarled, his hole tightened around me, making me gasp. Every struggle against his grip only mane his fingers dig deeper into my skin. I was lost in the sensation of his ass grinding against my hips, my cock a mere plaything for his pleasure. His face was a landscape of raw, carnal need, eyes burning into mine. The thought of the alien beneath, puppeteering this man's body, drove me to the edge. His lips crushed mine, and as our tongue battled, I felt my cock erupt, pumping hot cum deep into his ass. Each wave of pleasure was met with his body squeezing me, milking for all I was worth.

"You really know how to use that body," I moaned, as he arched his back, playing with my cock buried deep inside him. He started to rise off me, but my cock was still throbbing, leaking desperately as I watched him. I stopped him abruptly, grabbing his cock while I remained pulsing within him. I tugged and stroked it vigorously as he lifted his arms, inhaling the raw, primal scent of his own body after he'd ridden me so hard. He ground feverishly against my grip, my cock sliding relentlessly in and out of him. My fingers tightened with each wave of pleasure that surged through me, and I watched Mr. Lenny's face twist with the unmistakable signs of impending orgasm. Suddenly, he collapsed onto me, my fingers locked around his cock as his load erupted violently onto my chest and stomach, accompanied by a primal scream.

He lay atop me, panting heavily, both of us marveling at the chaotic mess we'd created. When he finally peeled himself off and collapsed onto my old bed, I heard a distant door creak open. Moments later, footsteps echoed down the hallway. The door burst open, and there stood my dad, eyes wide with horror at the sight of our naked neighbor speared out beside me, my own load dripping from his exposed ass.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I muttered under my breath, trying to maintain my composure. "It's not what you think."

"What the hell?" My dad's face flushed an angry shade of crimson, his eyes narrowing with disbelief.

"I hesitated, a twisted sense of humor almost coaxing a chuckle out of me. The truth was absurd: that there was an alien inside our neighbor and that he wouldn't be a problem anymore. I knew that explanation would sound far-fetched, so I chose to keep that secret locked away.

"All that time you called my son a fag, and you were - what? In the closet?" His voice was thick with accusation.

"Dad, can we at least put some clothes on before you start yelling?" I pleased, felling the awkwardness prickling my skin as I glanced at the two of them. The room was a mess of tangles sheets and scattered clothing, and I had already hastily grabbed a blanket to shield my exposed body. With a frustrated huff, he turned and stormed out of the room, allowing us a moment to privacy to get dressed.

"Well, the was unexpected," the alien remarks, standing up and stretching with a series of fluid, graceful movement that emphasized the sinewy lines of his form.

"I need to think of a way to explain this, but you are going to go back home." I tossed his clothes at him. As he began the process of getting dressed, I playfully pinched his firm backside. "But I loved this," I continued with a mischievous glint in my eyes, slipping into my own clothes. "We should definitely do this some more."

"The next time I experience and erection, I will ensure to seek your assistance," he replied, pulling his shirt over his head, the fabric hugging his sexy dad bod.

"Make sure you knock on my door clothes next time," I chuckled, fastening the last button and drawing him close with a teasing grin. "I like the idea of taking all of this off," I said, giving his shirt a playful tug. He seemed to catch the undercurrent of my excitement, his eyes sparking with renewed enthusiasm.

"I'm an adult now, in college, I can do what I want," I asserted, grabbing a bottle of water, though my dad glared at me from across the counter.

"How could you let him into this house? We had a rule that that piece of shit never set foot in here." His finger jabbed the air with anger.

"Is that what you're upset about? Him being in the house? Not the fact that we were upstairs together?" I challenged, my voice wavering between defiance and uncertainty.

"Well, yes, that too, but you could have had sex at his place. I don't care who you sleep with. I have my opinions about him, but if he makes you happy, then I'm happy." His words seemed genuine, yet his face betrayed a flicker of disgust that Mr. Lenny was the one I chose to sleep with.

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry I brought him inside. Next time I won't do that." I took a drink of water, nodding, unsure if I was relieved or guilty.

"Good, now help me make dinner," my dad said, his voice softer as he turned towards the refrigerator. Although his anger appeared to have subsided, the tension still hung thickly in the air like an invisible fog. I walked over to assist him, a quiet laugh escaping my lips as I marveled at the fact that I had managed to keep the secret the alien goo had entrusted to me.

Besides, I was eager to keep the goo inside Mr. Lenny, using him as my possessed sex puppet. To keep him inside that sexy daddy I would never tell a soul about the alien next door.

[swapsrus]

[swapsrus]

Title: “Second Chance Skin”

The studio locker room smelled like sweat, cheap soap, and leather benches. Sunlight poured through the windows, casting long shadows on the tiled floor. Two shirtless guys stood in front of the mirrors, still catching their breath from the last scene.

But these weren’t really Jace Norman and Asher Angel.

Inside Jace’s body was Ezra — a ghost who’d been lost for years, now breathing again.

And inside Asher’s was Kian, another spirit, long forgotten but just as alive now.

Ezra ran his hands over the smooth muscles of Jace’s chest, eyes wide. “Bro, this is insane. Like, look at this,” he flexed lightly. “I’ve never felt a body like this before. It’s like walking art.”

Kian chuckled from the bench, towel around his neck, admiring Asher’s reflection. “Right? I was a twig back in the day, now I’m this... hunk. Feels kinda wild.”

Ezra turned, grinning. “Honestly? You look mad good. Like, I lowkey wanna steal you.”

Kian smirked, stepping closer. “If you’re trying to flirt, you’re killin’ it, man.”

Ezra shrugged, feeling heat creep up his neck. “We’re ghosts. Rules are kinda optional.”

They both laughed but kept glancing at each other in the mirror, noticing how good it felt to be seen like this—not as ghosts, but as real people with skin and muscles and breath.

“You ever think we’ll wanna keep this? Like... actually be them?” Ezra asked.

Kian smiled softly. “Honestly? I think I already do.”

They stood there, close enough to feel the warmth between them. Then, like something electric sparked in the air, Ezra leaned in slowly.

Kian met him halfway.

Their lips touched — soft at first, testing — then deeper, like they’d been holding back forever. The world faded, and it was just them. Two souls who had no business being alive again but found a heartbeat worth fighting for.

A couple weeks later, they were fully in the groove of living as Jace and Asher. They’d mastered the moves, the voices, the fans. Social media was a whole new playground.

One afternoon, Ezra (Jace) snapped a photo in the mirror, shirtless and dripping with water from a quick shower. He posted it on “Jace’s” Instagram with a cheeky caption:

“Who needs summer when you got these gains? #Blessed #NoFilter”

Within minutes, the likes and comments exploded.

Kian (Asher) smiled, pulling out his phone. “Bet I can top that.”

He went live on “Asher’s” Instagram, shirtless, flexing his biceps and joking around. “What’s good, guys? Just out here, keeping it real. Y’all better keep up or I’m stealing Jace’s spotlight.”

Then Ezra popped into the live, waving and grinning. “Yo, don’t listen to this dude, I’m the real deal.”

The fans went wild watching the two “stars” joke and tease each other on live cam — shirtless, laughing, vibing like best friends.

And behind the screens? Ezra and Kian kept stealing glances at each other, the line between pretend and real blurring with every smile and touch.

One night, after a long shoot, they found themselves alone again in the locker room. Shirtless, tired, but buzzing from the day.

Kian caught Ezra’s eye and said softly, “You feel this too, right? Like... this is more than just playing a role?”

Ezra nodded, heart pounding like never before. “Yeah. I think I’m falling for you. Like, for real.”

Kian smiled, stepping closer until their chests almost touched. “Me too.”

Without thinking, Ezra pulled Kian into a kiss that was rougher, urgent. They’d tried to hold back, but now the floodgates were open.

The kiss deepened, hands exploring, breath mingling. The locker room faded into nothing but the two of them — alive, shirtless, and finally free to be exactly who they wanted.

Months later, they weren’t ghosts anymore. They were Ezra and Kian, living in Jace and Asher’s bodies — and more in love than ever.

They had their whole new lives ahead of them.

And for the first time, it felt like home.

[swapsrus]

Stealing Brock's Reflection, Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

"Fuuuuuck yes," moaned Ethan as he lifted Brock's arm to flex, bushy pits on full display. He was alone in Brock's room, surrounded by that aphrodisiac jock smell. He and Tyler had gotten home from their outing a short while ago and each headed to their rooms to wrap up the day.

Ethan, of course, wasn't tired quite yet. He'd been pent up since the workout at the gym, smelling Brock's musk the whole time since. Finally alone, he'd wasted no time throwing off his shirt and revealing that glorious new body of his.

"You love these fucking pits," he said as he stared at the mirror, long-time fantasy of his playing out before his eyes. He took a big whiff, then licked the precious sweat from Brock's wiry hairs. It tasted salty and oh so wonderful.

He stood up and made a double-bicep pose, the obscene bulge in his gym shorts becoming prominently displayed. "You like my huge jock cock?" he smirked to the mirror, twitching his dick for good measure.

"How about these massive tits?" he continued, bouncing both pecs. He slipped off his shorts, tossing them aside. Brock's erection looked vacuum sealed in the sweaty boxer briefs he was wearing. The view didn't last long, as Ethan slipped those off and immediately brought the crotch of the underwear to his face.

He took another big sniff before sighing contentedly. "That's what a man smells like," he cockily told the mirror. "And it's 100% me."

His hand ran down his sculpted chest and abs, before pausing at Brock's blonde bush. He smeared some of that groin sweat on his hand and brought it up for another sniff. It was as potent as ever, and Ethan kept his hand there as his other hand wrapped Brock's underwear around his cock. He grunted as he started to jerk off to his reflection, giving into primal urges. He rutted into his own hand, intoxicated on his scent and drunk on the image of himself flexing.

At long last, he fully flexed his huge arms, abs, and pecs and couldn't hold any longer, cum spraying from Brock's dick. As before, there was a lot of it, much coating the mirror even though Ethan tried to catch it in the underwear. In his haze he took the cum-filled underwear and stuffed it in his mouth, afterglow mingling with the salty damp taste of ball sweat and jock cum. He rubbed his cum-covered hand over Brock's abs, enjoying the feel of it smearing over the well- muscled torso.

"I can't go back," he said, realizing the truth in his mind. Sure, he could probably return to the mirror and get his reflection back. But he knew that wasn't an option for him mentally any more. He was committed to being the new Brock. His old life could get declared missing for all he cared. Not like his dad would notice for weeks anyways.

Ethan studiously made sure to clean up his post-sex mess, though he noted the effort it took to clean up how much cum Brock produced likely influenced why there were so many cumstains on Brock's things. He tossed the used gym clothes in the hamper, then glanced at the packed suitcase in the room.

In all likelihood, the move was happening tomorrow. If Ethan went with the Rourke family, then there pretty much was no going back. He felt strangely at peace with that.

His solemn reverie was interrupted by a loud knock at the door, followed by a shout of, "Where is he, Tyler?!"

It took Ethan a second to recognize it, but that was clearly his former voice! For the sake of not getting arrested, he slipped on a pair of yellow lounge shorts, not bothering with underwear. With haste he hurried out of the room. Tyler had also just left his room and glanced in Ethan's direction. "That's totally your voice- er, your old voice," Tyler commented. "What's going on?"

"Let's find out," Ethan said, feeling a surge of confidence strengthened by his resolve from earlier.

He opened the door to see his skinny 18 year old body in the apartment hall, face contorted with rage. "Keep it down, Mr. Gawne doesn't take kindly to noise complaints," Ethan said with a smirk before grabbing his former body and pulling it inside.

"You! Why do you have my body?!" seethed Ethan's body, confirming Ethan's suspicions.

"Quite frankly, it doesn't matter," responded Ethan, towering over his former body. "Here's how things are gonna work: this is MY body from here on out. I'm moving with MY parents and MY brother tomorrow. You can chill out and leave and figure out what you want to do, or I can MAKE you leave us alone."

Brock in Ethan's body stuttered, not used to NOT being the physically dominant presence in a room. He turned to Tyler. "Dude, why are you just standing there? Don't you believe me?"

"Oh, I believe you," Tyler confirmed from where he stood across the room.

"And you're just gonna let this douchebag steal your brother's body?!" Brock practically shouted.

Tyler gave Brock a level gaze, the face of his best friend contorted in a rage foreign to it, but all too familiar as Brock. "Yeah, Brock, I am. Ethan was already my best bro, but now that bond is blood. I like him being Brock way better than you ever were. Even mom and dad see it; Ethan charmed them both all day today before they left. So they aren't gonna ask questions."

Ethan's former face looked stunned by this revelation. Brock couldn't process it. His own brother willing to sell out his body? To trap him in this scrawny dweeb with no future? For the first time in his over two decades of life, Brock began to feel the tiniest prickle of regret for his treatment of Tyler.

"Anyways, I don't care what you do with him, 'big bro'," Tyler said before turning and heading back into his room to close the door with finality.

"But- but-" Brock stuttered in impotent anger.

"But nothing," Ethan said authoritatively. "I'll give you a little bonus if you leave quietly. One last chance to be close to your body. I really have been craving someone to properly worship these muscles since I became you."

"I'm not a fag!" Brock cried.

"That tent says otherwise," Ethan said, bemused.

Brock turned beet red, covering Ethan's small bulge. "C'mon, you'll have plenty of time to think on the way back to your apartment," Ethan said.

He effortlessly picked up his own previous body and threw it over his shoulder, Brock gasping from within it. He marched down the hall to his own apartment and stepped inside, throwing Brock down onto the ground of Ethan's room before lying out on the bed in a way that showed his impressive member straining against his shorts.

Brock, overwhelmed by Ethan's body's hormones and his own deeply repressed attraction, cracked. He reached a trembling hand out and gingerly touched his former chest. Ethan responded by flexing his pecs. Brock then ran his hand down Ethan's abs, marveling at how they felt and looked from this angle. Fuck, he'd been so hot.

Ethan sat up and flexed his arms. "Worship my biceps," he commanded.

Brock complied, running his hands over the huge bicep peaks before leaning in and licking them. Ethan lifted his arm straight up, exposing his hairy pits further, a new wave of his jock musk pushing out.

"Show these pits how much you fuckin love them," he commanded Brock.

Irresistible, Brock leaned in, getting Ethan's former face buried in the pit hairs that were once his. He inhaled deeply before sticking out his tongue and desperately lapping up that godly jock sweat.

"You're such a little slut for my pits," Ethan said derisively, before pushing Brock away. Brock looked hurt to be pulled away from worshiping his former body, but that swiftly changed when Ethan slipped off his shorts, thick jock cock springing free, surrounded by his trimmed bush.

"Now worship MY fucking dick," Ethan commanded, pointing at his erection standing straight out.

Brock fell to his knees and Ethan grabbed the back of his head, shoving him into his crotch to the side of his dick. Brock took a huge whiff of ball sweat and caught the scent of lingering cum from Ethan's earlier masturbation sessions. He flicked his tongue out, lathering up Ethan's hairy thick balls.

Ethan grunted in satisfaction, before pulling Brock back again. "Open wide," he said, and then brought his head down onto his cock.

Brock was barely ready as his own former cock invaded his mouth. Ethan was slowly pushing it further and further down his throat to find his limit, and to push just past it. Brock sputtered as he nearly choked on his precious pride and joy, tears welling in his eyes, part from the choking and part from the loss of this huge fuckstick.

Ethan pulled back but left the tip in Brock's mouth before releasing his head. "Show me how much you love this big fuckin dick, you little cock sucker."

Brock still couldn't resist, nose so close to such a potent source of that jock musk, and began to eagerly, messily, bob his head up and down on Ethan's stolen cock. Ethan let out a low, slow moan as he leaned back and enjoyed the sensation. "This is all mine now," he said as he made eye contact with Brock. Brock looked like he was about to pull off Ethan's dick to respond, but Ethan firmly planted his hand on the back of his head and pushed him back down on it.

This continued for a while, before Ethan finally let Brock pull off his dick. He grabbed some lube from the night stand and grinned at the mixed look of lust and fear in Brock's eyes. He slicked up his fingers, and then pushed Brock face down into the bed. He started with one finger, slowly and surely sliding it into his own former tight asshole. Brock involuntarily moaned, Ethan's smaller dick stiffly jutting out and twitching.

Ethan simply grinned, and then slid in another finger as he moved back and forth, seeking the prostate to make Brock melt like the little bitch he was. Soon, Brock was moaning as Ethan fit three fingers into his ass.

Satisfied, Ethan pulled his hand away, and wasted no time lathering up his dick and applying a generous amount to Brock's eager hole. He ran the tip around the entrance, teasing. "God just put it in!" Brock whined, ashamed how badly he wanted it.

"What's my name?" Ethan taunted, and Brock made a pitiful sound. Ethan smacked his ass and asked again "I said, what's my name?"

"Brock," Brock said, need for dick overcoming his resistance.

"That's right," Ethan said, finally sliding his dick into the eager hole before him.

Brock gasped, thinking he'd be ready from the finger fucking but his former dick was so fucking thick. Ethan was slow but relentless as he pushed deeper and deeper, until he buried his cock to the hilt, pausing there. Brock took heavy breaths, he felt absolutely impaled, and with shame he fucking LOVED it. His own cock filling an emptiness he never realized was there until this very moment.

Ethan then began rocking his hips back and forth, slowly at first, but gaining speed as he got more and more rough. Brock felt it against his prostate and moaned more, face down in the bed. Ethan gazed at the mirror of the room, and saw a fantasy fulfilled. Brock's broad frame absolutely railing Ethan's thin body, but this time he was looking from Brock's point of view.

He roughly grabbed Brock's hair and lifted his head to make him gaze in the mirror. "Watch while I fill you up, 'Ethan'," he grunted.

He felt his orgasm finally arrive, and his stolen balls tightened up as loads of Brock's cum flooded. His dick twitched multiple times inside his own ass, warm hot cum blasting out. The sheer volume Brock's cock produced forcing it to leak out back down his cock. The feeling of it filling him up was too much for Brock and he involuntarily started to orgasm without touching his smaller dick while being forced to gaze at the reflection of his humiliation.

Ethan pulled out, his sperm leaking out of Brock's hole. He grabbed a pair of his own underwear and wiped his dick off with it before shoving it in Brock's face. "Little souvenir. Don't come around again, 'Ethan'."

Brock just lay there, fully broken, unable to even muster a response. Ethan left him that way before heading back to the Rourke apartment. He entered and Tyler came out into the living room upon hearing his return.

"He's dealt with," Ethan said confidently.

"Good," Tyler replied, rubbing the sleep in his eyes. "The move is tomorrow and then we won't have to deal with him any more."

"I'm excited," Ethan said, breaking out into a grin.

"Me too! Hey, I was thinking. Since you're gonna be slipping into his life, it's maybe best if we start referring to you as Brock from now on."

Ethan nodded in agreement. "I'd like nothing more."

Tyler moved up and wrapped his brother in a hug. "Welcome home, Brock."

********

Brock looked in the hotel mirror of his room. His younger brother and best friend Tyler had already gone down to grab breakfast. Their parents had put them up in a hotel while the move to the new house finished up. He grinned, fully accepting his new role. He flashed a pic of his hot fucking body to add to his new Grindr profile.

"Get ready, gay boys. Brock is officially on the menu," he chuckled to himself.

Epilogue

Brock (the original) hurried down the stairs to the storage units. He'd wallowed for a few days now, but finally rage had taken over. He wasn't going to let that twerp Ethan get away with stealing his fucking life. He'd take that stupid magic mirror all the way out of town if he had to.

He stopped in horror, however, at the sight of the mirror smashed to pieces. Something had happened over the last few days and now... now he couldn't ever be Brock again. His anguished scream echoed in the dank basement.

[swapsrus]

Henry was obsessed with the 70s, to an alarming degree. He only decorated with things from that time, only wore things from then, insisted on driving a 1973 VW Bug, would only listen to music on a record player and only listen to original vinyls from the 70s.

His roommate Chad had had enough and asked me for help. I made a deal with him, and later with Henry. For Henry, I gave him what he always wanted, I gave him an authentic 70s life, trapped in his own imagination. For Chad, I erased his memory of meeting me.

Now I have Henry’s sexy body, I’ve made the adjustments Chad asked for, living more on the 21st century, and he has no idea I’m his roommate.

[swapsrus]

Zachary entered the pool as an old, overweight tax accountant. But thanks to his good luck and this hot guys rudeness, he was swapped into a new body. He’s now Charlie, an OF model and trust fund baby who loves showing off.

[swapsrus]

The Ghost Hunter's Guilty Pleasure

The sun was dipping low when Dennis's black SUV rolled up the curved drive toward the old mansion. The front lawn was trimmed to perfection, the ornamental iron gates framing a riot of roses - deep crimson, pale blush, gold - intertwined with ivy that crept up the stucco walls. The mansion itself was a masterwork of craftsmanship: every cornice carved in swirling arabesques, every window sash painted in a soft cream that still bore the original brush stroke. In front, a wrought-iron gazebo stood half-stripped, its peeling paint revealing layers of history; once the restoration was complete, its filigree roof would offer a cool refuge beneath the summer sky.

Dennis stepped out to find the ghost-hunting equipment being hauled inside by his team. Black trunks lay open, revealing rows of EMF detectors, infrared cameras, voice-recording devices. The soft hum of charging batteries mingled with the distant drone of cicadas. He smoothed the front of his royal blue shirt - tailored so precisely it hints at every curve of his torso - then nodded to the owner, a gaunt man with eyes both hopeful and haunted.

"It's supposed to be a bed-and-breakfast," the over said, ushering Dennis inside. His voice echoes faintly in the grand foyer, where a crystal chandelier dangled like a cage of frozen raindrops. "We've never been able to finish the renovation - something always holds us back."

Dennis's gaze drifted upward, taking in the soaring coffered ceilings studded with rosetted. "It's breathtaking," he said, voice calm as the machines around them pulsed with quiet life.

"Thanks - hopefully you'll banish whatever's here so we can open the doors next season." The owner's words barely left his lips when a heavy gilt-framed portrait slipped from its hook and shattered across the Mable landing. The crash rang out like thunder in the a small storm. A handful of crew members rushed forward, sweeping shards of glass into dustpans before anyone could be cut.

"I promise you," Dennis said, watching the men work, "by sunrise, this place will be clear." He glanced at his team - each face lit by the glow of handheld monitors, adjusting dials, calibrating sensors until every instrument lay in perfect readiness for the night ahead.

Night fell quickly in the countryside. One by one Dennis sent his crew away, leaving only himself among the array of blinking cameras mounted discreetly to preserve the mansion's antique paneling. A soft beep told him they were all live. He began his solitary tour, pausing to breathe in each room's distinct atmosphere.

In the master suite, the scent of polished oak and aged leather lingered beneath the heavy velvet drapes. A four-poster bed with ebony-carved posts stood proud, its velour blankets folded like dark waves across the mattress. Overhead the moonlight filtered through stained-glass transoms, painting violet patterns on the oriental rug.

In the library, rows of ancient tomes rose to the ceiling. The pages smelled of dust and secrets; the leather bindings felt cool and worn under his fingertips as he brushed past. Somewhere behind a stack of encyclopedias, the cables of a microphone trailed into shadow.

Even the conservatory held its breath: ferns unfurled toward the glass dome, orchids dropped under the weight of dew, and palms arched like silent sentinels. The warm, humid air felt alive, as though something waited just out of sight. Dennis's exhale misted before him, yet the silence remained absolute.

Returning to the foyer, Dennis studied the forest of tripods and recorder boxes. For an instant, he thought he saw a slender shaft of light refract around the edge of the sofa - a shape, maybe a silhouette - before it winked out. He took a careful step forward, and a sudden breeze flicked the pages of a ledger left on a side table. The curtains fluttered, though no window was open.

A slow smile curved Dennis's lips. He reached into his pocket and pressed a small button on a matte-black box - a signal to activate his most sensitive gear. "All right," he said, voice low and confident, as if addressing a hidden guest, "here's the deal. You get one final ride inside a living vessel - one last romp through pulsing veins and racing thoughts - and then you leave this house alone." His fingers brushed the small silver hoop handing from his earlobe, ensuring it was secure. A soft beep echoed faintly from the earring after he pressed the button, confirming that everything was in place.

Silenced answered him, save for the soft electronic whirr of cameras capturing every corner. He scanned the room, eyes sharp, until a skitter of movement flickered behind the grand staircase. A cool current brushed past him, raising gooseflesh along his forearms. He planted his feet firmly.

"Come and get me," he challenged the emptiness, knowing something watched from the darkness. With deliberate theatrics, he ripped open his shirt, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest. He flexed a hand forward and let out a teasing growl, baiting the unseen presence. Dennis loved to play. Tonight would be no exception.

For those on his team, it was no secret how much Dennis relished ghost hunting. Yet, nothing thrilled him more than feeling a spirit invade his body. His rigorous workouts had sculpted his physique into a tantalizing beacon for the restless souls he pursued. Now, he stood defiantly in the foyer, bare-chested, daring the dead to possess him.

"Really? Nothing?" he called out, his voice echoing with a mix of anticipation and disappointment. But then, the air vibrated with energy. Machines erupted with insistent buzzing, bells clanged, and the lights blazed to life on by one, heralding an approaching entity. A chilling breeze surged towards him, crashing into his chest. Dennis's grin stretched wide, just as his head snapped back with a sharp gasp. "Yes!" he shouted with raw exhilaration, his head lolling ecstatically. He clawed at his shirt, ripping it open wider, desperate to grant the ghost more space to invade his flesh with its otherworldly presence.

The spirit surged forth, a fleeting glimpse that left Dennis barely catching the spectral tail as it vanished between the muscular slabs of his chest. In an instant, control slipped away; his arms jerked wildly as the phantom force clawed its way through his limbs, driving his fingers to curl and reach for his own face. A twisted smile spread across his features, but it was a grin that no longer belonged to Dennis. Each contact was electric, and the ghost within him gasped, overwhelmed by the intoxicating rush of life rekindles, a surge of vitality that made his very essence throb with intensity.

"I haven't felt like this in ages," he growled, his fingers delving beneath his shirt to clutch and knead the taut muscles underneath. "And I have never had these before." His fingertips traced around the hard ridges of his flexed abs, making them stand out like chiseled marble. Driven by an overwhelming surge of power, he brought his hands up to grasp his pecs, savoring the sheer strength he now commanded. The flood of emotions and sensations bubbled within him, sending a jolt of raw desire that was impossible to ignore. With a swift, almost savage motion, he tore his belt free and shoved his jeans down, his hands squeezing the insistent bulge in his underwear.

"This feels incredible," he moaned, his head snapping back in a storm of unrestrained ecstasy. He ripped his shirt from his body with a fervor, discarding it like a forgotten relic, and gazed hungrily at the flesh he now possessed. His hands roamed greedily over the taut, sculpted muscles, caressing and venerating them as if they were divine. He staggered slightly, momentarily forgetting the shackles of his pants tangled around his ankles, and when he collapsed onto the sofa, he kicked them off with a forceful swing, his cock straining fiercely against the confines of his briefs. Even as he stumbled through the opulently decorated rooms to a bathroom as exquisite as the rest of the mansion, with its lavish wallpaper and gleaming fixtures, he was still marveling as the unfamiliar body. The ghost inhabiting Dennis scrutinized his reflection, tilting his head to capture every angle of his chiseled jawline. With a curious finger, he traced the mustache Dennis had cultivated, chuckling as the bristles sent thrilling tingles across his upper lip.

His cock pulsed with a life of its own, the spirit nearly mesmerized by the allure of his captivating reflection, and with one decisive motion, he unleashed that formidable organ. It sprang forth, entrancing the ghost as his mustache quivered with electric excitement.

"You're quite the prize, aren't you?" the ghost declared with Dennis's voice, sliding his hands down the ridged landscape of his abs, flexing them under his touch before seizing the throbbing shaft. He groaned, the grip sending waves of almost unbearable pleasure surging through him, a sensation he had been deprived of since his death. He gasped, slamming his hand against the mirror for support as the pleasure threatened to buckle his knees. The guttural sound he emitted was primal, and if one looked closely enough, they might see the specter leaking from his pores, the visage of an ancient man peering through the mortal facade. His chest heaved as he succumbed to the overwhelming bliss, yet the old man grinned wickedly, drawing himself back into the vessel, revealing the striking face in the reflection he had commandeered.

The spirit savagely tore away the last vestiges of his clothing, stalking back into the room where the ghost hunting gear hummed, planting himself defiantly in the center. "You all enjoy the show?" he sneered, glaring at the cameras. "You little fuckers get off on watching your boss get used like this?" he pointed at a camera, posing with both arms flexed, his cock jutting obscenely. The ghost looked down at himself and then back at the cameras, a wicked grin spreading. "You want a fucking show? I'll give you a show."

He seized his cock, throwing himself down on the sofa, the discarded pants a crumpled mess by the side table. He lifted his legs, grabbing his cock with one hand while the other explored his asshole, fingers slipping in his mouth before brutally pushing against his hole with a guttural grunt. His body convulsed, pleasure and pain colliding in a brutal, erotic storm. Legs high, fingers digging at his prostate, he stroked his thick cock, glaring at the blinking camera light.

Whether someone was watching live or Dennis would enjoy the recording later, the ghost ravaged Dennis's body like it was his own. His moans were deafening, drowning out the equipment's hum, threatening to shatter the windows with his ecstatic screams. His fingers dug deeper, stroking faster, until he felt the pull, balls churning, tightening, orgasm imminent. The sofa cushions enveloped him as he thrust harder, something tugging at his ear. The cushion's embroidery caught his hoop earring, and as his body arched in a brutal, sexy spasm, the earring tore off, falling near the discarded pants. His load erupted, painting his chiseled body in glistening ropes, moans so loud they threatened to consume him.

Just as he collapsed back onto the sofa, the box in the pants pocket beeped, the earring vibrating before sending out a crackling spark meant to expel the ghost. But it was too late. The earring was too far from his earlobe, and the ghost was free to reside in his flesh as long as he wanted.

The spirit toyed with the equipment, anticipation buzzing in the air like static, waiting for the pivotal moment that would hurl him out of the borrowed body. But that moment never arrived. Instead, he prowled through every room of his old haunt, pushing Dennis's body to its limits until the first light of darn sliced through the windows. He had driven Dennis to the brink of exhaustion, collapsing into sleep in the master bedroom. The abrupt clamor of Dennis's team roused him, their presence a whirlwind of motion as they dismantled and hauled away the remnant of their ghost-hunting endeavor. One team member tossed his clothes to him, and the spirit, blinking into wakefulness, realized his possession was inexplicably intact. A fierce struggle simmered within, a battle for control, but he held dominance, luxuriating in the newfound freedom of a life reclaimed. He donned Dennis's attire, adopting his mannerisms as he mingled with the team packing up.

"So did it work?" The owner's query cut through as he stepped outside, the house now devoid of all paranormal paraphernalia.

"Yeah, I would whatever was haunting this place won't be a problem anymore." Dennis - or rather, the entity within - replied with a sly smirk.

"That's perfect. I already sent you the money, so we should be square." The owner's handshake was firm and jubilant, and Dennis marveled at the sensation of touch, a thrilling reminder of his corporeal existence. As the owner moved past him, Dennis's gaze locked onto the SUV driver, a colossal figure engrossed in his phone, obliviously waiting for Dennis to join him in the back seat. The spirit, now seated in the driver's seat of his new life, felt a ravenous hunger stir within, his eyes blazing with desire to test the limit of his new, permanent form either with the man behind the steering wheel, or any man he could get his hands on.

[swapsrus]

Stealing Brock's Reflection, Part 2

Part 1 here

Ethan took a deep breath as he started the shower up. His face was screwed into a perplexed expression as he tried to process what was going on. Even still, he couldn't help but be distracted by the sight of his massive pecs. They were so BIG now...

Ethan shook his head to clear it and then stripped off the rest of Brock's clothes before entering the shower. The warm water was a relief, helping release tension Ethan hadn't even realized was there. He grabbed Brock's Axe body wash and began to lather up as he thought through things.

He couldn't deny he was loving this. Every second in Brock's body had been pure euphoria. But Ethan had no idea why this happened. Well, obviously that strange mirror had SOMETHING to do with it. But Ethan had read enough fiction to realize magic typically has some hidden cost likely to spring up somewhere. He couldn't ask the owner of the storage unit as Old Man Kessler had vanished some time ago. And he doubted the landlord, Mr. Gawne, would take too kindly to him asking about another tenant's storage.

And where was the real Brock? He'd never come back up from when he went down to the storage space. It must have something to do with that mirror, and the fact that Ethan was now Brock. A small part of Ethan thought to himself about how it wouldn't be so bad if the real Brock never turned up.

"Hurry it up, Brock!" came an insistent knock at the door, clearly Tyler's voice.

"Sorry man," Ethan apologetically shouted back (a distinctly non-Brock way to respond).

"Uhhh... ok just wrap up," Tyler responded, clearly off guard.

Ethan finished rinsing off and stepped out of the shower. He paused a moment as he lifted his arm to apply deodorant, and took another quick whiff of that heady Brock smell before covering it up with some Old Spice.

He hurried back to Brock's room covered by his towel and closed and locked the door. That encounter had brought Tyler to the forefront of Ethan's mind. Tyler was his best friend, and Ethan didn't want to lose his friendship with him due to becoming his actual brother. Shouldn't that make them closer? Ethan resolved to figure out how to tell Tyler what had happened. He slipped on a simple and comfortable outfit of grey sweatpants and a purple t-shirt. Brock's body filled out anything he wore, even something this casual. Ethan bit his lip, and then pulled out his phone to take a picture of his ass filling out those pants. Right as he did, he realized that he had Brock's phone instead of his own. He paused, then took the picture anyways and texted it to his old number just in case.

He stepped out into the Rourke household, trying his best to blend in. It wasn't too hard due to all the time he'd spent in this apartment over the years, so he wasn't stumbling around to find anything. His stomach grumbled, his huge jock body demanding fuel, so he made his way to the kitchen where Mr. and Mrs. Rourke were hurriedly putting on shoes and grabbing keys.

"Brock, glad we caught you," said Mrs. Rourke. "The real estate agent called and said there's some signing the seller forgot that we need to be present for. Your father and I are going out there now and we'll probably have to spend the night in Gravesford. You and your brother need to be packed and ready in case the movers come tomorrow before we get back. Would you let Tyler know where we are when you see him?"

"Sure thing, Mom," Ethan said, the phrase foreign to his tongue. His own mother had left before he could even remember. Mrs. Rourke leaned in and gave him an affectionate peck on the cheek.

"So helpful today," she commented, before rushing out the door with her husband.

Ethan turned to the fridge and poured a glass of milk into one of Brock's many shaker bottles, and added a generous helping of protein powder. He started to guzzle it down, when he heard Tyler's door open.

"You've been weird all afternoon," Tyler said as he rounded the corner into the kitchen, confronting who he thought was his brother.

Ethan sat down the protein shake and looked Tyler in the eyes, mind scrambling.

"You've been weirdly quiet and mostly left me alone. Plus, since when do you apologize for taking too long in the shower? You got some stupid prank planned?"

"I'm not Brock," Ethan blurted out, then face palmed.

"What does that even mean?" Tyler asked with a blank stare.

"It means what it looks like. I'm not Brock, at least not up here," Ethan pointed at his head. "I'm Ethan."

"Oh that's rich," Tyler chuckled. "Gotta say Brock, this is a new one. Not sure how you thought it would go."

"In 9th grade we got caught by Mrs. Gretchen trying to skinny dip at the hot springs on the school trip to Yellowstone. We swore we'd never tell another soul," Ethan said, cutting right to the chase.

Tyler's eyes bugged out, clearly trying to figure out how his jerk older brother had found that out. He knew there was no way Ethan would have told someone, ESPECIALLY not Brock. The gears in his head turned for a moment longer before he finally accepted it.

"Ethan? What the hell man, how are you Brock?!" Tyler asked.

Ethan gave him the quick version of encountering the mirror in the storage unit and how he'd suddenly found himself in Brock's body.

"This is honestly so awesome," Tyler responded as Ethan finished his story. "Brock's a total insufferable dick and has been for years. But now my best friend is in his place? This is gonna rock."

"Well, I'm glad you're on board. I... I really like being in Brock's body. Dude's a fucking TANK," Ethan said, compulsively flexing his massive arm.

"Yeah but now I actually like the guy driving the tank," Tyler chuckled. "E, since you're in the driver's seat, wanna get some dumb payback?"

"Doing what?" Ethan asked.

"Let's make him wear something dumb he wouldn't be caught dead in.

--------

The pair of best-friends-turned-brother hopped into Brock's car, shoving aside protein bar wrappers. Tyler complained about the constant sweaty smell in it but Ethan just smiled as he put on Brock's aviators. "Give me a smile, 'Brock'," Tyler said, holding up his phone for a picture. Ethan made a face and flexed his arm as Tyler took the photo.

"Imagine, I'm actually looking forward to spending time with that brute," Tyler said with a fond look at Ethan.

Ethan just laughed as he parked the car at the parking lot of a local strip mall. The pair immediately made their way to the thrift shop to see what finds they could put on Brock's body. Initially, they were pretty disappointed by the selection when Ethan found just the thing. He held up a t-shirt with the word "macho" bedazzled on it with sequins.

"Oh, his fragile masculinity wouldn't let him even think of wearing that," Tyler commented as he rushed Ethan to the changing room. Ethan slipped the shirt on and added Brock's aviators for good measure as he took a selfie before stepping out to show Tyler.

"Honestly, it doesn't look bad on you at all," Tyler said.

"I know! I feel like this body could rock anything I wanted!" Ethan reveled. "I'm definitely buying this, though."

The pair paid and as he pulled out his wallet, Ethan noticed Brock's gym ID- for the gym in this same strip mall. He turned to Tyler and showed it to him. "I gotta get in a workout to put this body through its paces," he pleaded with Tyler.

"Alright, I guess we can swing by his gym before we head home. Brock's never taken me with him before, I hear they have killer massage chairs."

The front desk was run by a young athletic man who gave Ethan a familiar smile. "Hey Brock, didn't realize you were coming in again today."

"Wanted to show my little bro the place before we move," Ethan said, slipping into Brock's speech patterns easily. "Plus wanna have a nice pump."

"Well enjoy your workout, and nice to meet your brother!" the receptionist said, waving them in.

"OK, you do your thing. I'm heading right to the massage room," Tyler said before splitting off. Ethan looked around the gym, not too crowded at this later hour, and couldn't decide where to start. He made his way over to the barbells, where he snapped a quick selfie to commemorate his first workout as Brock.

"Fuck, I never wanna go back," he said.

After getting a nice pump, he slipped his shirt off and stood in front of the wood paneling of the gym's sauna and marveled at the sheen of sweat across his muscles. Already, that Brock smell was drifting up, causing a chub to form in Ethan's pants. "I'm Brock," he said quietly to himself. "I'm Brock!" he repeated with more confidence, flexing both arms in emphasis.

"Yeah you are," Tyler said, having caught Ethan's display. Ethan blushed a bit. "I'm ready to head home, I'm beat."

"Yeah let's get out of here," Ethan agreed, slipping his shirt back on.

--------

Brock struggled down the basement stairs, swearing under his breath. This body of some old guy was awful to be in. He cursed himself for not realizing that stupid mirror was behind his horrible evening stuck as some frail, unfit old man. He hoped that somehow the mirror would fix all this. He'd left hoping to get away from the creepy thing but now it was his only lead on getting back to himself.

He shuffled through the storage units before reaching Mr. Kessler's. He hurriedly stepped in, expecting to see his old reflection just as it had been the last time he had seen the mirror.

To his shock, the reflection of his dweeb brother's scrawny friend Ethan stared back at him. "What the HELL? Where's MY body?"

Answers were not forthcoming, and he accepted a grim fact- even Ethan's scrawny little body was probably a better option for now than this horrible old body. He reluctantly touched the mirror, the old man reflection returning to it as Brock's body shifted into Ethan's. "I'm gonna find out what the hell he did!" he vowed, rage filling his eyes.

[swapsrus]

Stealing Brock's Reflection, Part 1

(Inspired by @verus-veritas and his Stolen Reflection story. Loved the swap method of a mirror storing reflections. Turned out longer than I expected so gonna break it up into parts. Loosely a prequel to that story, so Mr. Kessler's body will end up back in that mirror eventually! Got some plans for that 😈)

Ethan Shepherd sat next to his best friend, Tyler Rourke, playing video games. While it was fun, there was an air of melancholy about the pair of 18 year old boys. The two had both lived in this same apartment complex for years, and been as close as brothers, going to high school together. Sadly that was coming to an end as Tyler's family was moving away soon. Packed-up boxes surrounded them as a constant reminder of the soon-approaching move date.

"Man, I'm gonna miss you," Tyler said as they finished the round they were on.

"Yeah, I'm gonna miss you too. It's gonna be so lonely here. Dad's pretty much never home and I don't really have anyone to hang with," commiserated Ethan.

The moment was interrupted by a loud "Hey dork! Where's my old weight bench?" from down the hall.

"Bet you won't miss him," Tyler teased Ethan whole rolling his eyes before shouting back, "Probably still in the storage unit!"

The source of the voice was Brock, Tyler's older brother and total jock. He considered Ethan and Tyler to both be total dweebs, and Tyler found Brock to be an insufferable sweaty, smelly jock. Ethan, contrary to what Tyler had said, harbored a major crush on Brock, one he kept hidden as he knew nothing could come of it.

"Ugh, I hate going down there," Brock complained. He passed by Tyler's room, dressed in a tanktop and gym shorts, sweaty and unchanged after his earlier workout.

"You still stink, Brock!" Tyler called out after him, only to get flipped off by Brock as he exited the apartment to make his way to the basement storage units of the complex.

Ethan was grateful Tyler hadn't noticed the deep breath he had taken as Brock passed by and he got a whiff of that sweaty jock musk. His dick was already half-chubbed from that alone.

********

An hour or so later, Ethan entered his own apartment after wrapping up with Tyler. To his disappointment, Brock hadn't returned from the basement for Ethan to ogle at one more time. He wasn't sure how many more times he'd get to enjoy Tyler's company and view that Brock offered before the move, so he tried to savor every second.

On the counter top was a note from his Dad-- with one of the usual excuses for his absence. "Hey E, work needed me out of town, will be gone a few days. Fridge is stocked and pizza money is in my desk drawer. PS I need you to get my old suitcase from storage. Thanks!"

Ethan sighed. His father's work often kept him late, and when it didn't it would take him out of town. At this point Ethan was pretty used to the apartment being empty, but without Tyler to help him fill the time, he could see it getting real lonely.

Deciding to stave off the inevitable depressing silence of the empty apartment, Ethan figured he'd go take care of his dad's request. The walk to the basement storage units wasn't a long one, thankfully. Opening the metal door at the base of the stairs, Ethan entered, nose assaulted with the smell of the dust of the ages. The complex had been around for years and years, and some of this stuff had clearly been here since the first tenants moved in.

As he walked towards their storage unit he caught an unmistakable whiff of jock sweat and he paused. There was the unit Tyler's family owned, unlocked, but Brock's weight bench still sat there, unmoved. "Odd," Ethan thought, curious what would have distracted Brock from bringing the bench back up to the apartment. He glanced around and noticed something strange in the unit across the hall, the one marked "Kessler". For some reason its lock had been cut off by some bolt cutters.

The light had caught an odd mirror and Ethan thought he saw Brock standing there, causing him to nearly jump. But when he glanced away, he was alone still. "What in the world..." he pondered.

He stepped closer to the unit with the mirror, ignoring the other odds and ends. There was Brock, clear as day, yet Ethan couldn't see where he was. He glanced more directly at the mirror and started when Brock's eyes met his. Apparently Brock was startled too as he did the same. Like, exactly the same. "Wait..." Ethan spoke and saw the Brock in the mirror do the same. Testing the insane theory he was developing, Ethan raised an arm above his head. Mirror Brock did the same, showing his hairy pits.

"No way!" Ethan said, excitement growing. He didn't know how this was possible but he was already growing excited at the things he could do with Brock's reflection. He slipped his shirt off, mirror Brock taking off his tanktop and revealing his muscular torso. Ethan took out his phone to snap a picture, imagining Brock at the gym taking a selfie for him.

Ethan continued to stare in awe at the perfection that was Brad, shirtless and all for him. Ethan flexed, normally embarrassed of his skinny arms, but Mirror Brad followed and his muscles bulged enticingly. "Oh fuck me," Ethan whispered softly. He slid his hands down his smooth stomach and mirror Brad slid down his defined abs. Ethan couldn't resist slipping his hands into his pants and nearly came right there as mirror Brad seductively grabbed his crotch as well.

"BRAD!" came a shout from the entrance to the basement and Ethan was shocked out of his reverie. In his haste, he stumbled against a box and reached a hand out to steady himself, touching the mirror. He felt a jolt, something he couldn't describe, unlike any simple static shock he'd ever felt. In the mirror, his scrawny 18 year old body looked back at him. He felt a wave of disappointment. Seems like his fun was already over.

He sniffed, and caught a sudden strong whiff of sweat, like the source was right under his nose. Odd, had he really gotten so sweaty so quickly? Aware that someone else had apparently come down here, he reached to grab his discarded shirt. His hand met damp fabric and he looked in surprise at none other than Brad's sweaty tank. It was then he saw how meaty his arms were, and suddenly a lot clicked. "Holy shit, I'm-"

"There you are, Brad!" came a voice from the hall. Ethan looked up to see Tyler's dad. "I know you wanted to get your weight bench but stop goofing off and bring it up. We still need you to help pack."

"Uh, sure thing... dad," Ethan said, unsure of what to do.

Mr. Rourke turned and grabbed a box from the storage unit and looked expectantly at Ethan. Ethan grabbed the weight bench, surprised at the relative ease that Brad's body had with the task. He followed all the way back to the Rourke's apartment, where he set the bench down.

"OK, your brother is helping your mom with packing up the kitchen. I need you to help me get the furniture ready for the truck, whenever they finally get here," Mr. Rourke said authoritatively.

Ethan simply nodded, and got to work. It took about an hour of hard physical labor but everything got done. Ethan marveled at the pure strength he had as Brock, and tried to contain how excited he had been hearing his own body grunt as he hefted heavy furniture around. He was drenched in fresh sweat, almost intoxicated by it.

"Thanks for your help, champ. Honestly expected more complaining out of you but you really stepped up there. Hope this change sticks around, Broccoli," said Mr. Rourke, using an affectionate name Ethan KNEW Brock despised. "But kid you really gotta shower. Get to it."

"OK, will do Dad," Ethan said, feeling oddly warm at the fatherly praise. He stomped over to Brock's room to grab some fresh clothes.

Once inside, he paused. It was the first time he'd been in Brock's room. He was usually a huge jerk about it to Tyler and Ethan, even though they hadn't ever tried to go in his room. He surveyed the place. The air is thick with Brock’s scent, raw sweat, cheap Axe body spray, and a lingering funk of unwashed gym clothes that clings to everything.

The centerpiece is the unmade bed, a full-size mattress sagging under a tangle of gray sheets, stained with sweat and who-knows-what-else. The sheets smell like Brock’s body, all musky, primal, with a faint whiff of cum from nights he didn’t bother cleaning up. A pair of red boxer briefs, crusty with dried sweat and maybe a quick jerk-off, dangles off the edge of the bed frame.

In the corner sits Brock's weights, a set of dumbbells for his use at home. Brock had apparently situated it so the full length mirror hanging from the bedroom door could be used to check himself out while pumping iron.

Ethan sat down on the bed, feeling it creak under Brock's bulk, and stared at his hands. "Holy shit, I'm Brock. I'm Brock!" he whispered to himself in shock. He peels off the sweaty tank top and shoves it to his face to inhale deeply. He loves the way Brock's facial hair brushes against the fabric as he immediately grows fully hard at the scent of his best friend's brother. He lies back and slips off the gym shorts, leaving him alone in Brock's bed with just his underwear on.

Ethan gaped at the bulge in Brock's tight boxer briefs, the way his huge legs stretched out the fabric. The waistband had caught as he pulled off the shorts and Brock's massive muscle ass was teasingly visible. The abs and pecs formed a beautiful trail down to that big Brock bulge. Ethan twisted and buried his face in his new pits to get that potent musk right from the source and involuntarily moaned. His free hand ran up and down Brock's muscles, and he gasped as he brushed against the jock's perky nipples. He began playing with them as he sat up and looked in the mirror. He ran his other hand up and down Brock's powerful frame, moving his huge body in a more sensual way than he'd ever seen it. "Ugh, you smell so good, Brock," he said, voice low and husky as he turned to take another whiff of his pits. He paused and the flexed his arms, licking the massive peak of his biceps. He slid the underwear all the way off at this point, with Brock's massive cock springing free and standing at attention.

"God you're huge!" Ethan whispered to himself as he wrapped Brock's big hand around the stolen cock. Brock was uncut, unlike Ethan's original cock, and Ethan took his time discovering the pleasures of his new foreskin, rubbing the copious precum Brock produced all over it. He looked back in the mirror, seeing Brock all hot and bothered, then flexed again, giving himself a little show.

It was finally too much for Ethan and he gasped as Brock's sizeable balls pulled up and his orgasm arrived. It was mind-blowing and better than anything Ethan had ever experienced. And Brock came a LOT. When the orgasm finally subsided, Brock's broad and muscular torso dripped with his spunk. Ethan scooped some into his hand and licked it up, relishing the warm stickiness of Brock's cum- though it tasted just as bad as you'd expect for a careless jock bro, it was 100% Brock's which was all Ethan cared about.

He paused then and looked back at the mirror. There he lay in Brock's body, absolutely covered in cum, and he felt some of that post-orgasm clarity kick in. This whole situation was ABSURD! Here he was in his best friend's brother's body and he's acting like a desperate whore. He wiped his chest down with Brock's sheets, then scrambled to grab at least enough covering to go down the hall to the shower as was expected. He slipped on a pair of lounge pants and a blue jacket that he didn't bother to zip up. As he made his way through the Rourke household, thoughts of what in the world he would do lingered over a deeper feeling, one he was scared of. One of satisfaction with this change.

[swapsrus]

Haunted: Prologue

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

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

Haunted: Prologue

Note: This story only works as an introduction to a new series related to possession and body switching, its name is “Haunted”. Being only a prologue, it is somewhat short.

Benjamin was not the most popular at school. He wasn't a social laggard, he had friends, no one bothered him but he had no real “impact”, no one really placed him. He was just one among many.

He wasn't a genius, nor did he have many talents, he was perfectly average - maybe too average.

That didn't weigh heavily on him. His life was quiet, normal, sometimes fun, he had everything he wanted, didn't he?

Although sometimes he felt lonely. He had friends, yes. But he felt from time to time that he was just someone in the background, who gets left behind, or who they don't talk to as much. In the sense of love... he was completely alone.

He thought he was not ugly, he considered himself attractive, but he was not an eminence. He didn't have big muscles, or a striking physique.

But finding a gay person in his town seemed to be very difficult, he knew he was surely not the only one - or was he? - But maybe no one else had dared to come out of the closet.

It's a small town, he supposed.

That morning passed normally. Benjamin was in history class while eating a couple of gummies, distracted.

He listened to the teacher talk about the civil war, the sides, important places, he wanted to pay attention but they seemed so... boring. Like a constant “blabla”, his gaze was lost in the window, as he popped another gummy in his mouth.

I tried and tried again. He was too distracted to forget to chew.

The gummy passed with difficulty down his throat, until it stopped halfway.

He felt the air begin to rush past him, he stood up in anguish, interrupting the class. His hands on his neck as he clutched it nervously, beginning to turn almost purple. His classmates and the teacher himself swirled around him, all confused by his actions but frightened as well. The guy tried to explain what he was feeling, but his voice wouldn't come out, just as the air wouldn't pass.

Everything around him felt fuzzy, until he fell to the ground unconscious.

He did not know how to describe exactly what he felt. It was like a halo of light that spread strongly throughout his mind, memories of his whole life and then... darkness.

Complete darkness, plus a strange sensation of something stuck in his throat.

He heard sounds all around him, but could see nothing.

- Is he... dead? - he heard a voice coming from a guy, albeit in a high-pitched tone.

- It seems so, but where is his spirit? - a slightly more masculine voice sounded, but it had some appeal in its tone.

- Maybe... They took him upstairs.

- Or downstairs - another voice. It sounded raspier, though.

- Tobias.

- What? I'm just stating a possibility.

They mumbled a couple of things I couldn't make out, accompanied by a long silence.

- So what, then?

- Maybe he did leave.

- Too bad... - a new voice emerged, deeper but at the same time honeyed, like a constant flirt - It would have been a nice acquisition.

- Wait! What are they doing to him?

He felt again an intense movement, as if he was being lifted into the air to be whipped again. It went on for a long while until he felt a sensation in his throat that gradually rose to his mouth.

And suddenly, light.

He spat hard on the gummy as if it were a hairball, all his classmates were around, and the teacher's hands against his body. He had given him a heimlich maneuver.

- Dude! Are you okay? - His friend Peter moved to the side, the professor finally pulled away and everyone seemed to disperse to their places as Mr. Thompson quietly denied and said he should be more careful.

- Yes... - he whispered in denial. He felt like everything was spinning around in his head. He couldn't even focus properly, he looked up, slowly making out his surroundings.

Then he saw them. They were four boys about her age, though they were all dressed differently, as if they weren't from this era.

On the far left, there was a muscular boy, wearing a college-style jacket, his eyes were striking brown, and his complexion was somewhat tanned.

Next to him was a slightly stooped boy with a dark complexion, thick round glasses, quite thin and small. With an outfit that looked "retro".

Next, there was a guy in a green uniform, consisting of a sweater, black pants, he had an elegant bearing but also a gothic vibe... gothic. Kind of dark.

And finally, a guy with clothes a little more to the time. Denim jacket, a polo shirt and dark glasses, plus a smile.

He had never seen them before in his life. He knew everyone at school, especially those in his subjects; but these guys were complete strangers.

- So... He was never dead? - the jock muttered, raising his eyebrow.

- Apparently not.

- Or they managed to save him for next to nothing - the one who seemed to be more flirtatious (and mocking by the looks of it) let out a laugh.

I swallowed, staring at them.

- Wait. Can he see us? - the nerd muttered.

- Ben, is everything all right? - Peter asked. The boy just nodded nervously - You look like you just saw a ghost.

- You have no idea - The boy whispered. Before sitting back in his chair.

----

Hello everyone!

This will be a new series of stories called “Haunted”, set in a school and will feature lots and lots of possessions, body changes and more. I know this little prologue doesn't have many pictures or exploration themes, but it's just to mark the beginning of this new universe and the why of things, I hope you liked it and you're ready for lots and lots of possessions with armpits, sweat, muscles and feet included.

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

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

---

[swapsrus]

I went to bed with stiff knees, a bad back, and decades of wear and tear. Now, I wake up in this young, lean body, looking into a mirror at a man I don't recognize. My joints don't creak, my skin's smooth, and... are these... abs!?

My skin, once wrinkled and worn, is smooth. I don’t know who this guy used to be, but he took care of himself in ways I never did. Now, here I am, in the prime of youth again, with muscles I didn’t earn and tattoos I never got. The weirdest part? I’m starting to get used to it. Being able to touch and explore a body like this—my own body-it's intoxicating. I feel the rush of freedom. The way men look at me now, the way I can feel their gaze linger-it's something I never let myself have before, and now I want more. I want it all.

[swapsrus]

[swapsrus]

[swapsrus]

AUSSIE TWINKS!

Recently, I employed Harris to join me for engineer work as I needed some extra help, plus I get extra bonuses from the government for taking on a fresh student out of university.

Harris was your typical Australian twink. He had the body, boyish looks, and bright personality. I knew he was the one from the moment I met him. He was going to be a prime asset for my business in the long run especially I'm reaching my retirement and struggling to do the daily jobs.

So, a few weeks went by as I got to know Harris on a personal level. My guess was right about him being openly gay but I still haven't met that man to meet his needs on a daily basis.

I was waiting for the right time. One evening, he got really drunk at the bar with drinks from me that had an extra solution that was going to change us forever.

I had to take him back to my place as he was totally out of it. This was it!!! The moment.

As I laid him down on the bed, I drank the final solution, and I felt new heat radiating from my big old fat stomach! I looked at his mouth, and I climbed into him. Some reason it was simpler than expected. Harris was moaning as he felt his body expand for hours while I was invading his brain. Each memory slowly became mine as we both were in a deep sleep.

Next morning!

I stretched my arms and opened my eyes! I felt fucking horny as I saw my body? Fuck it was Harris body or I say my body! I couldn't help touching my feet, legs, chest and my raging twink cock. I laid there starting jerking off, saying all different lines like Harris did. Each time I spoke, it made me more honry! The testosterone in this body is fucking insane!. I suddenly released the thickest biggest loads in my life as it went over my new bare chest. I just couldn't help myself to taste myself. It was salty but tasted great knowing that it was my new taste!

I got up and showered before finding my new clothes

I couldn't help myself but don't I look fucking great now! Good thing I already transferred all the assets over into my new name. It's like a God sent that I got the body of dreams with a successful business at the age of 18. Everything set in stone.

Honestly I can't wait to see who I can pull at the bars over the weekend as I need to experiment to see what position I prefer, good thing my ass hasn't been used yet so I get to experience my first time again!

The weekend! Look at me showing off my ass for you all to see!

Damn I'm one lucky Aussie now!

[swapsrus]

The Serpent's Puppet

The crate outside my neighbor's house looked like it had survived a war - splintered wood, black lettering smeared across every side like warnings. It had been dropped off by a man who moved like he wanted nothing more to do with it. He slapped a letter onto the front door, then ran back to the truck, disappearing into the passenger seat just as the engine roared and the vehicle tore down the street.

I watched from behind my curtain, coffee cooling in my hand, as my neighbor returned home a few minutes later. He looked excited as though he had been waiting a long time for whatever was inside this battered delivery.

He crouched low, pressing his face to the crate, trying to see inside. When he finally noticed the letter, he barely gave it a glance before flinging it through the doorway. Then, with a kind of effortless strength, he lifted the whole thing and carried it inside - as if it weighed nothing. It tracked, I suppose. The only times I'd ever seen him outside were at the gym, or walking past the animal sanctuary where he worked.

Not even an hour later, I heard the scream.

It wasn't the kind of sound you forget. It was sharp, raw - something between fear and agony. And it came from right next door.

I slipped back behind the curtain, fingers tightening around the fabric as I eased it open. The scream still echoed faintly in my mind, and I wasn't sure what I hoped to see - only that part of me hoped it wasn't him.

Across the way, the red curtains in his window trembled, disturbed from within. For a moment, they danced like something breathing just behind them. Then - violently - they were thrown apart.

He stood there, motionless, illuminated by the soft glow of a lamp behind him. His bare chest rose and fell slowly, like he's just exhaled after holding his breath too long. Coiled around his neck was a serpent, scales glinting faintly, its head resting near his jaw like a whisper. Both of them were staring at me - intently, hungrily. A slow, deliberate smiled pulled at his lips. He raised a hand and pointed at me and then toward our backyards.

I went.

By the time I reached the fence, he was already there - waiting. The snake wrapped around him like a glistening scarf, dressed in nothing but a tight pair of white boxer briefs, clinging like a second skin. The sun caught the sheen of swear on his collarbone, the taut lines of muscle across his chest and stomach. But it wasn't just the way he looked - it was the stillness of him, the way his body radiated something predatory.

"Are you okay?" I asked, the words catching in my throat. I knew better - every part of me screamed that something was wrong - but I asked anyway.

He tilted his head slightly, as if amused, as if he already knew I'd come. I tried not to stare, but my eyes betrayed me, lingering over the curve of his hips, the way the snake hung loosely around his neck and on his arm like it, too, was at ease. As I looked over his body, something told me the scream wasn't the last one I would hear tonight.

"You're quite nosy, aren't you?" My neighbor said, his voice slipping over the air like velvet pulled too tight - pitched low, slow, deliberate. Almost as though something was tasting the words before letting them escape his lips.

"What?" I asked, my voice barely steady.

"I saw you watching me. Right before this human arrived. Through the cracks in my prison, I felt your gaze. Curious. Intrigued." He extended a hand, and the serpent stirred. It slithered toward his fingers with a grace that felt rehearsed. I took a step back, heart quickening.

"I think I'm confused, you seem...fine."

"You seem afraid." His hand stayed raised, unwavering, as if inviting more than contact.

"Not at all." I extended my hand to meet the challenge. The snake rose to meet me, tongue flicking, tasting my scent. Then it was moving - slowly, sensually - curling up my arm, pressing itself against my skin as it wound around me shoulders. It felt heavier than it should have. Warmer, too.

"This human is a conduit," He said, "his mind hollowed out for me. His body - well, wearing a body properly requires a certain kind of intimacy." I tilted my head before I realized I was mimicking him. The serpent settled against my collarbone like a living necklace.

"I don't understand." I whispered.

"You don't need to." His eyes never left mine. "What I find more interesting is that you're not pulling away. You're letting it touch you. Letting me touch you." The snake's body slid along the side of my neck, and I gasped - not in fear, but something else. The sensation was too precise. Too knowing. It lingered where nerves gathered and practically made my spine melt.

"Are you going to hurt me?" I asked, not sure if I wanted the answer to be yes or no. The serpent slipped from my shoulders, gliding across the space between us to return to him. He watched me as it joined him, sliding over his bare chest, disappearing into the waistband of his underwear like it belonged beneath his skin.

"Why would I hurt a friend?" He smiled again "I think I'll keep this one a while longer. You seem to appreciate what I've made of him." The thing behind his eyes watched me closely as he knelt down and placed the snake gently in the grass. The moment stretched long, heavy with something I couldn't name. I couldn't tell whether I was witnessing something sacred or profane. Only that I was watching - entranced - and that a large part of me didn't want to stop.

My neighbor quickly shifted his attention away from the snake. With a swift motion, he tugged his underwear down just enough to reveal his round, fleshy backside. He leaned forward ever so slightly, extending his arms backward. With deliberate care, he spread his cheeks apart, unveiling the taut, pulsating orifice that the serpent was going to use as an entry point.

The snake's sinuous body coiled around my neighbor's leg, its scales glinting like tiny shields under the light. It paused, forking tongue flicking, a ir fixed its glassy, we eyes on me. Then, with a chilling deliberation, it turned towards his exposed hole. Like a predator striking it unsuspecting prey, the snake launched itself forward, its blunt head pushing against the puckered flesh, insistently demanding entrance. The scaly body, a grotesque rope of living muscle wriggled and pushed, as my neighbor began to emit a low, guttural groan.

I circled his prone body, his face now a portrait of raw, unbridled sensation. His mouth was slack, jaw loose, as a deep, resonant moan escaped from his throat. His eyes fluttered, rolling back to reveal the whites, as waves of pleasure, too intense to bear, crashed over him. His fingers dug into the flesh of his cheeks, knuckles blanching, as the snake's body, inch by inch, was swallowed by his rich, pulsating hole. The snake's tail whipped around his fingers before finally disappearing, consumed by his eager, quivering flesh.

"What the fuck," was all I could utter as my neighbor's eyes fluttered closed and his expression twisted in discomfort. The snake was settling inside his skin, like a tailored suit he was happy to wear forever. I watched, transfixed, as bumps surfaced along his muscular back, the creature adjusting within him. His spine arched suddenly, and his hips thrust backward as the snake claimed his new vessel.

"You are going to need to fuck this body," my neighbor said through gritted teeth. His eyes snapped open, wide and intense, fixing on me with a desperate, urgent stare. Without hesitation, I scooped him up and hurried him back into his house.

The living room was a scene of chaos, with the remnants of a broken crate scattered about. The snake had ripped through the wooden planks effortlessly, shards embedded in the furniture like shrapnel. We stumbled throughh the wreckage, instinct guiding me - or perhaps some unseen force - towards the bedroom.

I threw him onto he bed, and he sprawled out, his body moving like he was slipping into a snug sleeve. His fingers curled and flexed as though testing new-found control. Satisfied, he twisted his body, presenting himself with an urgency that was palpable. "Do it now. I need it. I want this body. I want you," he urged, his voice thick with more than just the snake's influence. His eyes burned with a lust that consumed him, a hunger that demanded to be sated.

I tore away my clothes, shredding the fabric as I fought to free myself from their constraint. My cock had been rock hard since the backyard, and now I was grinding my erection against my neighbor's firm ass. He reached back, spreading his cheeks, offering me unhindered access to his hole, as if I didn't already know where I was going to plunge my cock. I took the silent invitation, ramming my length deep inside him. The residue from the snake writhing into his muscular body made me growl as I slid in, unsheathed and raw. I dug my fingers into his wait, thrusting into him with brutal force, my balls slapping against his flesh. I could feel the serpent coiling around my cock, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me.

"Fuck, this is insane!" I roared, pounding into him harder, the bed scraping against the floorboards, our groans echoing through the house. The bumps on his back began to vanish, and suddenly he arched, his cock erupting beneath him, his load creating a slick pool as if my neighbor's very essence was ejected out through his cock, reducing him to nothing but a quivering mess beneath us.

"Your turn." He pulled away, my cock sliding out of his hole with a pop. He was no longer my neighbor; he was a confident vessel for this creature. Grabbing my hands, he made me feel the snake's control, every flexing muscle, every pulsating vein. Then, he yanked me towards him, our mouths crashing, one hand gripping me tight while the other stroked my cock.

Leaning back, he lifted his legs, inviting me back in. I plunged my cock into his hole, holding his legs on my shoulders. His head dug into the pillows with each thrust, and he clenched his hole, playing with me, driving me to the edge.

"I'm going to cum," I gasped, panting like an animal. He held my head, making me look into his eyes as I exploded inside him. His eyes were as glossy and reptilian as the snake that now possessed him.

We tumbled onto the bed, the frame creaking and almost snapping under our weight. He gazed at me, much like he had when he was leaning against the fence in the backyard. But this time, it felt different - less like a test and more like attraction. Maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see.

"Thanks for your help," he said, his hand brushing against his chest, a fingertip lightly touching his nipple, causing a visible shiver. I realized I couldn't look away. I was watching him as intensely as he was watching.

"So, what are you?" I asked, knowing he wasn't just an ordinary snake.

His eyes sparkled, and his lips curled into a playful smiled. "I can be whoever you want me to be, but you might consider me a demon. I was kicked out of hell for being a bit too mischievous with humans, as I'm sure you've already figured out."

"Have you always looked like a snake, or were you just playing into the stereotype?" I smirked, leaning back slightly.

"I take the form that suits my needs. In this case, it was a snake. Your neighbor has been saving money for one and got more than he expected." His hand rested nearby, and I could smell a hint of his body odor. It made my pulse race.

"What's the plan? Live in him for a while and then move on?" I curled up, nestling into his side and looking up at those dark, beady eyes.

"I'm having more fun that I've had in ages, but I guess the ultimate goal is to experience as much of human life as possible by jumping from body to body. My little addiction to human husks is why I was kicked out after all." He shrugged.

"Would you like company?" The words slipped out before I could think.

He grinned. "I think I'd love to have you along. You'll make an entertaining little companion." He started to climb on top of me, stretching and looking down from above. His muscles tensed, and I bit my lip, watching him move. My heart raced faster.

"Oh, I'm more than just a companion." I said, flipping him off me in a swift move and pinning him down. I began to grind slightly, my tongue finding his nipple and licking it. He grinned and pulled me close, his hand squeezing my ass as our bodies pressed tightly against each other.

"I know you will be," he said, his eyes flickering back to normal, the snake eyes retreating but still lurking just beneath the surface.

[swapsrus]

BFB: Part One

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

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

BFB: Borrowed From Bro

Luca and I have been friends since we were about six years old, and for as long as I can remember... I've had a crush on Beckett, his older brother.

We were four years apart, but gosh... he was always so funny, with a unique charisma. Or well, that was a few years ago, suddenly he became cold, cutting, hardly ever wanted to spend time with me or Luca; but he had become hot...

He had really focused on improving his physique, he wasn't a sportsman as such, but he spent all his time in the gym, flexing those fat, sweaty muscles… It was like martyrdom.

I was about to turn eighteen in about three days. I was pretty excited at the thought of it plus all that it entailed like the party, the presents. However, my parents would not be there because of their work, they used to travel a lot; actually it was not the first time they missed my birthday, but it felt a strange emptiness to turn this age without them being there.

Although, Luca's family gladly accepted to receive me in their home, because of our closeness, it almost seemed like another one of their children. And his parents were almost like my second parents.

- Do you already have an idea for your birthday? - Luca's mother asked with a smile.

- Maybe something simple, I don't want to be a bother.

- Not at all, Jamie. You know you're family.

I could only smile softly.

- Seriously, something quiet.

- Well, if you insist - she denied - in the garage we have a couple of party things, tell Luca and Beck to help you.

My heart was pounding and nervous. There was no problem with Luca helping me, of course. But imagining Beckett was...

- Oh, no. I'm sure Beckett has more important things to do, he shouldn't be bothered - I said laughing nervously.

- No, no. He must help you - I swallowed.

- It's really okay, don't worry - I denied, starting to move backwards to run out to the garage. But then Beckett came in.

- There you are! Help your brother and Jamie find the party decorations in the garage.

He was pouring himself a glass of water, set the pitcher down on the counter, it was a thud. He fell silent to nod dryly, didn't even say anything else. I bit my lip nervously, what had I done to make him act that way with me, had he realized I liked him and that pushed him away?

I quietly thanked him and left for the garage. The worst happened next, though. Luca had left hours before, he would be back until the afternoon, so I was alone with Beckett for the day.

There was no noise at all, all was silence beyond the rubbing between the cardboard boxes as they were moved or lowered. I must admit it was quite a treat to watch the boy of my dreams carry boxes, to see his biceps swell and his stern expression as he bore the weight. It was so hard not to get "excited".

Sometimes we would exchange glances, he would stare at me until I ended up getting uncomfortable and looked away before hiding in a pile of boxes.

- And... How was college?

- Fine.

He answered almost with a grunt. I sighed at my vain effort, tried to pull a box from a high shelf, had to stretch a lot though it ended up falling abruptly, opening.

An elegant mirror ended up sliding on the floor, fortunately without a scratch. I took the artifact in my hands to examine it, it certainly looked elegant, somewhat heavy. It seemed to be made almost of gold.

I looked at the surface, I swear I saw it glitter for an instant.

- What is it? - Beckett murmured to take it in his hands, snatching it from me.

- A mirror...

He said nothing. He saw himself in it for an instant and then handed it to me.

- Be more careful, put it away. Maybe it belongs to my grandparents.

I nodded and obeyed, put it away and put it back in the box, putting it back in its place. After a while, we ended up finding everything we needed for the party. I took the boxes and brought them into the house, Beckett looked at me again for a while, with that same cold expression before going up to his room and locking himself in. His parents went out to buy some things for the party like food and drinks to get everything ready.

So I went to the guest room (which was almost my room, since I was always in it), lay on the bed with my eyes staring at the ceiling. I sighed, it felt pretty… wrong how Beckett treated me. Surely he was straight, I know he would never reciprocate, but the feeling of rejection, how he saw me, the mere fact that he wouldn't even speak to me, burned in me with anguish.

I started to feel drowsy, maybe I was too tired from carrying boxes - how pathetic it sounded - I tried to resist the feeling, but I ended up closing my eyes.

I don't know how much time passed. At least several hours, I opened my eyes confused, feeling sweaty. I gasped in annoyance at the sensation and the... shit, it stank.

Everything was dark but I couldn't help but feel heavy, I stood up. I felt my footsteps echo through the room as I fumbled for the room's blackout. I felt that something was not right at all. And when I turned on the light, I found myself in a room completely foreign to my own.

It wasn't unfamiliar, though.

I looked at Beckett's awards, his car posters, his computer. It was all there.

- What on earth? - came out of my mouth. Then I felt my voice sound completely different, deep, masculine. My gaze lowered, I gasped as I saw my new build: two big pecs and shapely abs. While my body wasn't bad, it wasn't this built.

I lifted my armpit a little to sniff, it stank... but it was such an intoxicating, exciting aroma. Soon I found myself sniffing like crazy, licking and sniffing insistently. I was grinning like a fool, I didn't know what was wrong with me, I didn't even know what body I was in but now I was so... lost in continuing to smell my stench.

It was until my gaze stopped at the mirror that I saw my reflection.

- Fuck! - I screamed.

I rushed to the mirror, pressed my hands against the surface and saw him: Beckett. His body responded in parallel to my actions, exactly the same. His expressions were the same as mine, everything... even the relief on his pants. I wanted to hold on. I swear I did, but I ended up taking off every garment until it was just me and Beck's sweaty skin.

My chest rose and fell nervously, I began to caress his pecs, enjoying the softness and how easy it was to squeeze them, I let out a loud gasp as I squeezed again and again hard.

- Fuck, yeah - it was like touching the stars to see the boy who was driving me crazy to be panting and with a goofy, lustful expression - do you like the way I look, Jamie?

A shiver spread through my body just hearing him say my name in that tone.

I pulled out his phone - or now mine?

To start taking pictures, I immediately sent them to my number. I had to have this if it wasn't permanent... I flexed my arms hard, widening my big new biceps and letting the stinky stench come out more freely. Stinking up the whole environment.

- I'm fucking hot.

I muttered. I walked over to the mirror, watching myself closely. My heart was pounding, I'd loved Beck forever, and now he was so close to me… I knew part of it didn't count because it wasn't him, it was me in command of his huge muscles.

But I didn't care.

- You look so good, Jamie... - again, it was pure ecstasy. My name across his silky lips - I have loved you for so long...

And I immediately slammed my lips against the mirror, my sweaty muscles and upturned manhood against the coolness of the reflective surface. It was a chaos of sweat, saliva and the sounds of my body crashing over and over against the mirror.

- You feel so good, Jamie...

I grunted, feeling that I was closer to releasing my seed. I continued to lick, gasped and rolled my eyes in pleasure, when I heard the door open.

- Beck, hey, do you know how long Jamie has been asleep? - Luca walked in, I didn't even have time to react or restrain myself. I turned to him as he gasped and I felt buckets of thick goo spill out onto the floor as I had a goofy expression on my lips.

- Ugh...

- Beckett, what the fuck! - Luca looked at me with some disgust, closing the door immediately - Yes you are going to do those things for sure!

- Luca, wait...

- What?

I swallowed hard, how could I tell my best friend that I was inside his brother without him taking me for crazy.

- I... I'm not Beck.

- Right, and I'm Nicki Minaj. Don't play games, asshole. You better cover up!

I covered myself with my hands.

- I'm telling you the truth, man. I'm Jamie.

- ... What the hell got into you today, Beckett? First you do this and now you're using Jamie for this stuff.

- It's the truth!

- Is it? Tell me something you'd only know if you were Jamie.

- When you were six, you wet your bed at a sleepover of mine, you tried to justify it by saying it was the cat but my cat had escaped a week ago. Then one time you stole Beckett's boxers to make fun of me because I like him, and...

- All right, all right, all right! I believe you... Shit, how is that possible?

Luca started circling around me confused but curious.

- I don't know, man. I just... I got sleepy and when I woke up, he was here.

- This is unbelievable! - he seemed fascinated - Let's go out!

- We're going out! What?

- Yeah, yeah! Let's get your body out there!

He didn't even give me time to say no, he quickly put on my clothes, took my hand and rushed me out of the room. I wanted to resist, but Luca was too insistent.

- Wait, what about Beckett? What if he's in my body?

- Fuck that! He's asleep, completely lost.

- And your parents?

- They're not back yet! Hurry, let's go!

And we were out of the house.

- And how will we leave?

- In Beckett's car.

- Are you out of your mind? He won't let anyone touch it.

- Yeah, but you're him now. He can't say anything if it's your own car, can he?

He smiled broadly.

I sighed, nodded and we ended up taking the car. I drove for a while until we got to the address he indicated.

- Where are we?

- At his gym.

- Luca, what's wrong with you?

- Nothing! But don't you see the possibilities? This is great. Now you're him, you've got his strength, you've got his body... You have everything!

I nodded softly. His gaze rested on me for a while, and he leaned in to kiss me. I pushed him away immediately.

- Dude, what the fuck!

- I'm sorry. Yeah?

- Luca, it's your brother's body!

- But it's hot! And don't tell me you don't think so too. It's so... big, sweaty. And now you're in the pilot's seat, and I can...

My heart was pounding, I felt his hand come up to my thigh to slowly caress it.

- Luca...

- My friend... Give me this. When could I have this? Never. Please... Technically you and I are just friends, there's nothing wrong. No?...

I swallowed.

- Fine.

He took me by the chin to start kissing me, it was an intense and sloppy kiss, our tongues colliding, his soft gasps, a little saliva escaping his lips as he kissed me more and more.

Until I pulled him apart again.

- Let's go to the gym.

- What for?

- Trust me.

We both got out of the car, went inside. The receptionist looked at me for a moment, I just waved before he nodded and gave me a smile.

That made me feel strangely... confident.

I lifted my chest and strode confidently forward among the machines and other sports equipment. I found one that caught my attention, I had no idea what these things were called, but I put as much weight on it as I thought would be enough, grabbed the ends, pulled the pulleys and started flexing towards my chest and back.

I loved the feeling… I felt strong, powerful, extremely masculine. How my chest puffed out, how well my arms burned. I felt like I could break a rock with one punch.

- Wow, dude...

I smiled when I heard him, looked at him and winked.

- Do you like what you see?

We went on like that for quite a while, every time I touched a machine it was as if I knew exactly what it was for, and I did one exercise after another. I loved feeling my muscles pumping!

And I loved even more letting Luca take pictures of me, posing, flexing, reeking of pure masculinity.

I also took pictures of myself and sent them to my number. I knew it was a risky thing to do, we didn't know if Beckett was inside my body, or if I was in charge of his while he was still in here. But he definitely had to send me evidence of this.

I loved feeling my body heat, how the seat was soaked with my scent and sweat, wet and warm. Leaving the trace of my huge back or my fat buttocks for having been there.

I ended up exhausted. But it felt incredibly satisfying, like I had won a marathon or something. I felt like everything on me was sweaty and stinky, but I didn't care, gosh, I was addicted to this stinky, potent stench...

I didn't even bother going into the locker room. I preferred to go to the car like this, there was something inside me that I had never known; I didn't know if it was confidence, arrogance or narcissism, but I felt amazing. I lifted my armpit in the driver's seat and immediately Luca was against it, licking and sniffing desperately as if hypnotized.

We drove home and on the way I let him bend over so he could lick my new tool. Leaving is entirely wet, full of his dripping saliva and my thick seed running down his face.

I parked the car, noticing that his parents' van was already at the gate.

- What shall we tell your parents? They're here.

- Nothing. We'll tell them we went out and that “Jamie” was very tired, that's all.

He wiped what was dripping on his face to quickly put his fingers in his mouth and get out.

I followed him, and it really was quick. We just waved, said we were going out for a while, that “Jamie” had finished exhausted and we'd go upstairs. His parents just said it was nice to see us hanging out and didn't ask any more questions.

We went straight to Luca's room.

- Dude, it's awesome to be your brother.

I flexed to show him my arms along with the armpits that were driving him crazy.

- It sure is... - he whispered as if he was watching a steak, almost drooling.

- Do you think it will be the same tomorrow?

- I hope so - he smiled - It's nice to have you like this.

- Nah, you're just saying that because you enjoy this - I joked flexing my arms for him again.

- A little yes - he lifted his shoulders without interest - but I also have to admit that it's the closest I've been to my brother in years. It’s... cute.

We both fell silent, I decided to settle his hair just to break the awkwardness a little.

- Well, I'll go to sleep now. Tomorrow we'll see if I'm still like this.

I said goodbye to him, he hugged me softly, watched me and then stole a little kiss.

- Just in case.

I shook my head with a laugh, pressed him against my armpit as a joke and left his room.

I walked over to mine, but kept hearing “me” snoring. I went into Beckett's room and closed the door. I was feeling pretty sweaty so I decided to take a shower. 

It was a quick thing but I loved running the soap all over this body, feeling his firm yet soft muscles. My upturned buttocks that bounced at the slightest movement. Even my feet... Everything about him was perfect.

I went outside and stared at my reflection in the mirror. Another photo straight to my private messages. Would tomorrow continue like this? I didn't know what would happen... If he would continue to be my eternal crush or if he would be me again, if he would be me again... It was goodbye to all this.

The last sincere smile I was getting from Beck.

I moved one last time to the mirror to give him a soft, gentle kiss.

- I like you, Jamie.

I turned off the light and lay down to sleep.

To be continued

----

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

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

---

[swapsrus]

Reckless Swapping Spree

It’s important for world changing technology to never wind up in the hands of idiots, especially kids. They’ll just use it to screw around and won’t realize the consequences until after they fuck up.

Case in point: a group of rowdy teenagers were screwing around with a body swap ray. They did the usual antics of swapping with each other and their girlfriends and making them do things that were just silly.

But then they upped their antics and started breaking into various buildings with it. The zookeepers weren’t thrilled when they went into work and started feeding the monkeys to find one of them like this: