trickorswitch

[trickorswitch]

Break Out

"Psst! Hey! Hey, Red!"

I tossed my ginger curls out of my face, looking up at the fellow detainee across from me. ‘Red...’ such a dumb fuckin’ line, everyone drops it thinking they’re the cleverest person in the room. I have red hair, hardy har, so people call me Red, tee hee, give me a break.

He’s short, maybe a hair over 5’6”, but a fireplug of a man. Sure, darker blonde, but a fireplug. Even in his baggy clothes, I could tell that he was pretty beefy, like in a got a little too into juicing after high school kind of way.

“What’ll it be, Yellow…” I mumbled back.

He shoots me a weird look. I mime at my hair. He narrows his eyes and shakes away the confusion.

"Give me 50 pounds!"

I shot him an even weirder look than he gave me, and he just gestured back and forth to me and himself excitedly, with both of his wrists tied together with the thick, industry standard zip ties that the pigs always carry around by the dozen at protests.

“What?”

“Jss—Fuckin’ give me 50! I’ll get us outta here!”

“… Pounds.”

“Yeah, c’mon!”

I scoffed, “You can eat 50 lbs of shit.”

“Dude, just—ARGH, just say it, man! Trust me! You can spare it, you’re a big dude! Look, I promise I’ll get us out of here.”

He wasn’t wrong, I probably weighed the same as him. Sure, on a frame easily half a hoot taller than him, but I’ve paid my dues at the alter of vain size building. Anything to at least minimize the amount of ginger jokes I had to endure in school. Thanks a lot, South Park… Wait, 50 lbs of…?

“50 lbs of what then?”

“You, dude! Muscle, size! C’mon dude, we gotta be quick!”

Great, stuck in holding, again, with another horny tweaker, again. It’s like I’m a magnet for this type of shit.

“You want 50 lbs of muscle from me, huh? What, you’re gonna Superman your way outta here?”

“W—I mean, kinda,” he chuckled and shrugged as I rolled my eyes with a grin. I had to admit, Yellow was charming, in a dorky, too much adrenaline kind of way. “And ‘our’ way outta here, man!… C’mon, I’ll give it right back! Trust me, like, we were at the same protest, we’re already on the same team?”

I chuckled behind my grin, “Even you gotta admit that turned into a little more than a protest.”

He shrugged again behind a smirk, “No justice, no peace.”

I outwardly laughed this time. I scratched my knee with my wrists bound together, feeling my forearm graze against the slight chub I was forming. This guy’s clearly got a few screws loose but his charisma was undeniable. Was it because he was built to exactly my type? Whatever, may as well play along, we were likely going to be spending the next few hours together in holding.

He caught me studying him, and opened his palms upwards and raised his eyebrows in a game show host imitation.

I snorted, “Fine, Yellow. You can have 50 lbs of my muscle. Now, how a—!”

My breath caught in my throat and my jaw shot open as I sucked a whooping gasp, my fists clenching and my shoulders tensing up, my abs knotted up and my hips thrusted forward like I was yanked by lasso.

The moment the words left my mouth, I was instantly, fully, throbbingly rock hard. My dick was pulling like an iron rod towards him, making my sweats tent in a way I didn’t know the fabric was capable of handling. In my dizzy, star-spangled vision, I could see the same was true for Yellow. He was similarly tensed and flexed, but smiling widely and dumbly with droopy orgasmic eyes and seemed to be experiencing it much more relaxed way than I was.

He panted quietly, “Don’t worry, dude, it’s just the connection being made, you’re gonna love th—HOOOOOO!!”

It must have hit him the same moment it hit me—it felt like a massive, pillowy, slobbering set of lips smooched down onto my mushroom head, tightly forced itself down the length of my shaft, and began thirstily sucking me off! I continued with my shuddering gasps as he gritted his teeth and hissed with his eyes pinched shut, shushing me as he did, so as to… what? Not alert the pigs making calls and typing up reports? I felt like I was going zero to ten in seconds, on the very verge of busting!

Then as I was gonna bust, the wildest sensation imaginable hit me. It felt like thick, oozing, orgasmic energy like mound after mound of warm, lubricated meat was being sucked directly out of my shaft. I looked down at the throbbing tent in my sweats to get an eye of what was happening, but I would only see my mushroom head flaring over and over again, catching an eye of Yellow’s doing the same through the fabric of his pants.

As the energy shot out of my shaft towards him, I could feel what could only be described as levitating. It felt like my body was becoming lighter and lighter and lighter, with pulse after orgasmic pulse. I rolled my eyes back with lustful, dumb laughter, feeling like I could float away. With each pulse, I could feel my clothes breathing gusts of air out around my neck, arms, waist, and feet as they settled loosely on my smaller frame. As I felt my height shrink considerably, I looked down with a dumb giggle as I watched my cock throb, then thin, throb, then shorten, throb, throb, throb, then—

I pinched my eyes shut and yelped involuntarily as finally came. And came. Shit, and came some more! I swear to god I’d never had an orgasm last as long as it did. Plus, judging by the warm soupy feeling in my boxer briefs, I shot more than I think I ever had!

Then—and at this point I knew I had to be going insane—because then? Yellow was… changing.

He kept his breaths heavy but his volume low as I watched his entire body pulse, and pulse. With each consecutive pulse, his stature stretched taller, his frame stretch wider, and—

“Hhuurrrrrnnnnngg…” he arched his back with a gurgling, euphoric growl, clearly also involuntary, since he’d been such a nag about our volume, as he continued to pulse like a giant heart, only this time his muscles appeared to be joining in on the action. They swelled thicker and broader under his increasingly tightening clothes, the ones that were seconds ago basically hanging on him like a tent, making them audibly stretch and become deliciously tighter. I heard the leather of his boots creak and I watched as they appeared to inflate from within as his thighs and claves rounded with size. He gurgled again as his torso, chest, and abs widened and grew and his throat thickened, making each button down his henley pop, pop… pop pop pop down to reveal his chiseled cleavage.

He seemed to hurry now, his breath quickening, as he rushed his bound hands down to his buckle. As he did, his job was made more difficult by his expanding, bulging arms, each snaking with angry chords of veiny muscle, as he frantically undid his belt. He threw his too-tight zipper down, quickly dug in, and liberated his throbbing boyfriend cock. Ah, so he clearly knew what was coming—the sexy fucker could’ve at least warned me.

“MMMPFF, MMPF, MMMNuuhh…” he lightly moaned behind tight lips as I watched his dick bloom outwards and upwards, encouraged by his bucking hips, lifting higher and thicker into the air like a flower searching for sun, until he—! He gasped in a quick breath as he leaned over, making his bench groan under his new weight, as he erupted thick squirting volleys of cum onto the floor adjacent to us.

Splat, splat, splat, splat, splat… Splat. I watched each load shoot out of him in disbelief. Both obviously at the quantity and also what had just been shared—or exchanged—between us in… Well shit, now that the haze from my orgasm was clearing, it couldn’t have been more than 10 seconds since those last words left my lips to now! Now we were both left in a panting fog, the room saturated with our stink, as he finally started to tuck away his fresh donkey dick.

He glanced over at the splatters on the floor he’d made, “Sorry about that,” he muttered, struggling to zip up his pants. “Didn’t want to… y’know, soak my shorts.” He nodded at my sweats—not overtly soaked themselves but threatening to start showing signs, if my overflowing briefs were any indication—and laughed a bit, wincing as he slowly forced his zipper up, doubtlessly strangling his now-sizable package.

I huffed out a laugh along with him, “What—..” I swallowed dryly, hearing the cracks in my voice. “What did you d—?”

“No time, we gotta bounce,” he grinned with a rich, cocky baritone.

He stood up. And up, and up, towering over his former stature. Yellow’s face pinched with effort as I watched his arms flex angrily.

“RRRNNnngg,” Yellow grunted with an animalistic huff. I swear I could hear his guns tightening like rope! With a sharp “NTCCHuuuh…” and an accompanying defeated *SNIP!* the industrial strength zip tie broke like it was made of cheap plastic. He looked down at where it’d landed and glanced back up at me with another cocky grin.

“Well shit,” I remarked with a chuckle, panting out the last of my exhaustion from my sudden transformation. He popped his firm pecs with that cocky grin as he kneeled towards me.

He sniffed as he leaned in, “Woof! You really made a mess didn’t you?” He grinned up at me, slipping a finger then two under my zip ties. I must’ve blushed a little at the comment, because he chuckled back up at me, “No sweat Red,” He tilted his head back to the creamy puddle on the floor. We both huffed a laugh.

My “cuffs” had loosened from the transformation quite a bit. Still not enough to slip out of, but enough for him to slip two of his thick fingers through. He grunted again and pulled until mine snapped too. He tossed mine to the floor with his and held out a hand to help me up from the bench. I accepted and he lifted me up, making me bounce on me feet a little once

I felt… Hell, I looked pretty sick actually! Had a little bit of the look I remember when I was going straight into undergrad! Minus the nubbier but wickedly more sensitive hog I was now sporting. Used to get laid constantly back then, at least way more than now. But now with gig jobs, keeping a steady gym schedule, taking care of my siblings for my deadbeat folks… Who’s got the time? But… fuck! Yellow had really worked his magic… on both of us!

“You just gonna stare?” He snapped me out of it, “Or should we get out of here?”

“Y-you lead, I guess,” holding up my sweats and briefs (being sure to clutch the briefs tightly so none of my spunk dribbled out, couldn’t handle more embarrassment) the with one hand.

He approached the door to our holding room, grateful that it was some cheap office door with a shitty lock, and quickly but forcefully pushed outwards with his boulder-like shoulders. He and I both huffed out a satisfied laugh as it gave with little of his effort, uttering only a small *crack* as the lock gave up its measly effort inside and swung open.

We hurried it to the end of the long corridor of other holding rooms until it T-intersected with another hallway, and we looked both ways. On one end of the connecting hallway, we could hear the click-clacking of keyboards, the cacophony of calls coming through too-old landlines, and the hubbub of the chatter coming from the station’s staff. On the other end, a fire exit door, with the trademark red illuminated EXIT sign over it with the machinery connected to the door that would set off the alarm once the door was opened.

He leaned in to whisper to me, “We’re gonna have to split up once that alarm goes off. You know Francisco’s?”

“The diner?” I replied back. Good old Francisco’s Diner, always there late at night when you need a ton of carbs after a night of binging. “Waaay too well, yeah I know it.”

“Let’s meet up there. 7 o’clock? Gives you about an hour to get more, uh, decent?” He chuckled back at me.

“Fuck you,” I laughed back, “Ain’t my fault I need to clean up.”

“HEY! What the hell you think you’re doing?!”

We both looked down the other end of the hall, where some fatass pig was moving towards us. Both of our hearts jumped.

“Remember, 7 o’clock, Francisco’s!” Yellow grabbed onto me and shoved me in the direction of the door. I stumbled forwards, making my way to the fire exit, looking back behind me to see Yellow give the pig a linebacker’s shove, forcing him to the floor and knocking the wind out of him, then turning to sprint the way I was going.

I pushed out of the fire exit door, momentarily blinded by the afternoon light and deafened by the accompanying ring of the alarm and bolting to the right, out of the parking lot. I only looked back once to see Yellow sprinting out of the building too, laughing out loud as he ran away from the three cops uselessly chasing after him, tripping over themselves. Thankfully with all of their attention on him, the last thing I saw before I turned the corner was him effortlessly hopping the stone fence on the other side of the parking lot.

I continued running—gliding honestly, the lighter size feeling totally abnormal but thrilling—block after block after block, until I made it to the courtyard of my building. What spunk hadn’t dried against my crotch had spilled out of my briefs and down the leg of my sweats creating a sticky, cool sensation. I checked the time on the ornate courtyard clock. 5:45. Still plenty of time to get cleaned up!

Cleaned up, plus a little exploration. Damn, I felt the same way looked: svelte and sexy as hell. My nubby cock was already greedily throbbing before I unlocked my apartment door.

———

The bell hanging above the door of Francisco’s Diner jingled as I walked in (a fashionable 20 minutes late—what the hell, I got, uhh, distracted). Of the things that would’ve fit me in my closet, I settled on a skate brand tank top I hadn’t worn since college and a pair of gym shorts, drawstring tied extra tight. All of it still hung off me, I must’ve looked emaciated.

“Ay, Red!” Yellow waved over at me from one of the booths along the window. He sported an undershirt and vest along with his own pair of gym shorts, except all of his looked way too tight, compared to my way too loose apparel. What a pair we made!

I slid into the booth, grinning and sighing, “Sorry I’m late, I—”

“Had to give it all a test run, huh?” He chuckled into his coffee mug. I shrugged with a grin. “Don’t sweat it! Meee too, man, me too. I only got here like 5 minutes ago.”

“That was crazy how you got us out of there, man. Any trouble?”

“None! Actually, once I was over the fence around the parking lot, they’d basically given up. You?”

“Not at all. Thankfully all of their attention was on you!”

“Not surprised! Can you imagine what a prize it would be for them if they caught all this? I’m lookin’ like fuckin Superman now.”

He punctuated his cocky brag with a tight flex of his guns, bursting with both his and my combined strength.

“Gotta say,” I shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee he’d ordered me. “Looks fucking good on you, dude.”

“Hey, yeah?” He raised an eyebrow with a grin, bouncing his pecs at me. “You’re looking pretty good yourself there, Red.”

We sat for a few moments sipping our mugs, the obvious horny mist between us simmering and the unspoken recognition of each of our hard-ons adding to our admiration of one another’s bodies. I had to admit, Yellow had one me over. Whether it was because of his charm, his solidarity, his magic, or his bod, the short time we’d come to know each other had caused some kind of spark to ignite.

At the moment I was going to quietly ask that we go somewhere more private, he piped up, stretching and arms and back behind him against the booth.

“Well, a promise is a promise. You ready to get your size back?”

I smiled, “That would be great... Wait, here??” I remembered the mess we made at the station. Surely a mom and pop diner like Francisco’s wouldn’t appreciate a display like that in their establishment.

“I think the bathroom might be a better option. After you,” he gestured his arm out of the booth.

I sauntered over to the bathroom located behind the counter of Francisco’s open kitchen, looking back to see if Yellow was following. He’d left a $10 on the table for our coffees plus a generous tip for the staff and was already close behind me. I opened the door to the single use bathroom, while he held the door, slapping my ass inside as we both chuckled.

I heard him click the lock of the door as I turned around, “So how are we gonna d—”

Yellow had me pinned against the sink before I could finish my question, his hard body pressed against me as his lips and tongue danced against mine, pausing only to shuck his vest off with his undershirt, as I lost my tank top. We grinded our bodies together, feeling our hard tools poking into each other’s hips as we made quick work of liberating them from our shorts. Once we were both completely of our clothes, we resumed our intense make out, each of our hands ravenously feeling up the others, gripping firm mounds of muscle here, sliding fingers down cascading backs there…

“I should thank you properly for helping us both out,” Yellow panted.

He forced me down onto the toilet seat by my shoulders, then slid his hands down my torso, then gingerly tugged at my raging nubby boner. I could see that his was a throbbing, eager railroad spike as he knelt down in front of me and leaned in to swirl his tongue around my mushroom head.

“Fucking hell, Yellow, where you been all my life?” I panted with an exhilarated gasp, running my hands through his stiff dirty blonde hair, feeling his head bob up and down on me.

He released me with a sucking *pop* and grinned up at me, “I’m Doug, by the way. Douglas, but call me Doug.” He continued his greedy assault on my cock while I gasped a few more orgasmic breaths.

“C-Curtis. I’m Curtis,” we both laughed, having only just exchanged names while his mouth was around my dick. His deep laughter reverberated splendidly inside of his mouth against my leaking glans, stuffing his mouth with my pre, without a doubt.

Releasing me once more, he looked up at me. “Hey?”

“Yeah what’s up?”

“You can have your 50 pounds back, Curtis,” he grinned then quickly buried his face back into my crotch.

It happened just as quickly and just as intensely as it did the first time. I felt the same electrifying jolt of energy shoot through me, making me groan and arch my back as I felt waves of pleasure crash into me. Now fully nude, I could see the transformation affect both of us with delicious clarity. I watched my perspective grow taller and taller, seeing and feeling my legs, arms, and torso stretch back to their normal size. “Fuuuuck yeeeeaaah,” I couldn’t help but moan as I watched my arms, legs, thighs, pecs, feet, hands, abs, fucking everywhere, throb and swell with dull, increasing pressure, flexing everything as my size returned to me. Then, feeling my balls pulse and sag, I dropped my hands to his head, gripping fistfuls of his hair, as I animalistically bucked into his mouth, feeling my meat throb, lengthen, throb, thicken, throb, lengthen, throb, thicken, deeper and deeper and deeper into Doug’s throat. He gripped my rounded, swelling ass as I gripped his head, finally feeling the dam burst as I flooded his guts with another massive serving of my seed, only causing him to gag just a few times, but still swallowing it all like a champ.

Both of us gasping with exhaustion, he stood up, his cock appearing to do some king of hiccuping motion as it shrank back. He was still shrinking in intermittent spurts, his arms deflating back to their respectable size, his pecs receding back to their typically sized mounds, his arms and legs dwindling back to their normality as he shook them out. His stature had diminished back to his short king height, and I could tell my the quickening of his cock’s hiccuping motions that the last part was coming. I reached out with both hands to tug his shrinking tool and massage his balls, hearing him whine/moan as his hips bucked with my motions. Very soon after, he erupted several copious volleys at me, splattering against my arms, my pecs, and my upper chest.

He collapsed onto me with exhaustion, his thick thighs and massive ass resting on top of my thighs, both of us panting in the orgasmic fog we’d created as he leaned his smaller self against my larger. His seed squished between our heaving, panting chests as he and I wrapped arms around each other to make out again.

Doug was unlike anyone I’d ever been with… Shit, by a long shot. And it’s crazy how much, though unspoken, he and I were both into this whole size play thing. Hell, I could spend way more time yo-yo’ing with him, seeing how big we could really make him. Creating a gym schedule with him so we could both add more mass to ourselves and go even crazier with this gift of his. Tricking assholes to loan him some of their size so he could turnaround and dump it all into me.

As we made out more in the bathroom of Francisco’s Diner, the whole room reeking of our sex and humid with our effort, I knew that our unlikely but fortuitous relationship was only just beginning.

[trickorswitch]

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▮ male transformation ▫ male possession ▫ male body swap ▫ male hypnosis

▮ muscle growth ▫ muscle loss ▫ muscle theft ▫ weight gain ▫ merge ▫ bodysuit

▮ age progression ▫ age regression ▫ hair growth ▫ race change

▮ mental change ▫ mind control ▫ dumber ▫ language change ▫ accent change

▮ reality change ▫ identity theft ▫ role reversal

▮ straight to gay ▫ gay to straight ▫ female to male

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▮ hunk ▫ frat boy ▫ blue-collar ▫ southern ▫ wrestling ▫ go-go boy ▫ cub ▫ pup ▫ slob ▫ pig ▫ slave

▮ chronivac ▫ clothing ▫ jockstrap ▫ underwear ▫ cap ▫ shoes ▫ singlet ▫ harness ▫ collar ▫ piercing

▮ fetish ▫ musk ▫ armpit ▫ feet ▫ sweat ▫ nipples ▫ milking

▮ beer ▫ alcohol ▫ smoking ▫ cigar ▫ leather ▫ latex ▫ tattoo ▫ wish gone wrong ▫ plan gone wrong

▮ unwilling ▫ loss of body control ▫ corruption ▫ humiliation ▫ debt ▫ punishment

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[trickorswitch]

Never Going Back

“What’s wrong? You agreed to this, remember?” Kent remarked, trying to hide his budding smirk behind that handsome new bearish face of his.

“What?!” Warren shrieked in a high pitched voice, much unlike the deep baritone he was used to hearing. “I agreed to have some fun! I didn’t agree to… to THIS!” His voice cracked with a mix of anger and fear as he gestured down at the skinny twinkish body he now possessed. A far cry from the huge manly body this man had stolen from him.

“This is fun.” Kent replied. “For me anyway.” He couldn’t hold back that giddy look on his face any longer as he looked down at his new body with wonder. Seeing a forest of dark chest hair covering his huge pecs, filling him with a strong sense of pride. Almost as strong as his giant new biceps which he couldn’t help giving a quick flex. Adoring how the bulged with strength. “Fuuuuck yeahh…” He groaned in his newly deep and commanding voice before reaching his hands up towards his chest. “Mmmmphff… I should’ve done this years ago!” He groped and squeezed at his heavy new pecs with a lustful grin while his former body looked on in horror.

“But I… you… you can’t! T-that’s mine!” Warren shouted, flustered at the sight of the hunky body he owned mere moments ago checking itself out right in front of his eyes. He could still hardly wrap his head around it.

“Not anymore you little bitch. This hairy, beefy, sweaty body belongs to me now. Period.” Kent stated, using the power of his commanding new voice. “These huge juicy arms…” he brought each one of them close enough so that he could kiss both biceps with his bearded lips. “These thick trunks you called legs…” He gave each thigh a quick smack, watching the muscle wobble slightly. “These enormous furry pecs…” He proceeded to effortlessly bounce his pecs, looking down with devilish glee as the hairy muscle obeyed him. “And of course this fat raging cock!” Kent’s hand swiftly sank towards his crotch where it heartily gripped the dick shaped bulge in his underwear with a smirk.

“Uffff… fuck I’ve never had one this big before.” He commented as his newly acquired appendage only continued to grow and fatten as he got hornier. “It’s gotta be at least twice the length of that last dick I had. And definitely girthier.” Kent slipped his finger under the waistband of his underwear and pulled them open so he could get a proper look at his new equipment. “Mmmmmm… daddy dick…” he mumbled. “All mine.”

———

About an hour prior Warren had been sitting inside his local gay bar where he usually went at least once a week. He was a big man to say the least. Massive muscles bulging from head to toe, covered with a modest layer of soft fat that resulted in a thick and imposing physique. A body that never ceased to stretch whatever clothes he put on with its mass. And to top it all off he was covered in manly fur that was most prominent on his chest and belly. All that combined with his sharp masculine face and beard made him the prime example of a muscle bear. The type that could have anyone on their knees and calling him daddy with a snap of his fingers. And he knew it.

Most nights when he went to the bar he’d end up taking someone home with him. Sometimes he’d take other bears like himself for a good flip fuck and other times he’d take twinks for him to dominate instead. Tonight was the latter as a small hairless man who introduced himself as Kent began flirting with him. They talked for a while, clearly eyeing each other up in the process, and before long Warren had one of his big beefy arms slung around the twink’s shoulder as he guided the youthful looking man out of the bar and towards his place.

As soon as they were in the door, they began kissing and ripping off their clothes. Kent finally got a good look at the gigantic hairy body Warren had, not so effectively, been hiding. Soon enough Warren was picking Kent up as if he weighed nothing at all before carrying the twink towards the bedroom. But, as soon as Warren sat down on the bed with Kent in his lap, the impossible happened.

Kent’s eyes began to glow a hauntingly deep shade of red while staring directly into Warren’s eyes. The bearish man found himself unable to look away, as if he were locked into Kent’s gaze. He tried to move but his body wouldn’t respond. It was then that the world around him began to grow fuzzy. Everything around him was spinning and fading as his body seemed weightless for a moment. Only for reality to come crashing back down moments later. His senses kicking right back in only now he felt much smaller and lighter than before. And as his vision started to focus again, the reason as to why became clear. No longer was he looking across at the face of the twinkish man he’d picked up from the bar but rather he was looking at his own bearded face grinning maliciously back at him!

———

“H-how? How did you do this!?” Warren shouted, demanding an answer from the man who’d just stolen his body.

Kent looked up at him, still groping his new and improved cock. “I’m a jumper.” He stated blankly.

“A… what?”

“A Jumper.” Kent repeated. “It means I can hop from body to body as I please.” He added while giving his new beard a curious scratch, enjoying the feeling of his newfound facial fur.

Warren looked on in disbelief. “But that’s not-”

“Possible?” Kent scoffed as he finished the other man’s sentence. “I think the evidence speaks for itself.” He said while standing up from the bed and gesturing down at his thick muscle bear body while his new dick strained aggressively against his underwear.

Warren couldn’t help eyeing up the bulge he used to own. Hell, he couldn’t help eyeing up every inch of his former body as this body snatcher paraded it around. He’d always thought he was hot but seeing it from the outside was something else entirely. And not only that but seeing his old body tower over him. Why was it making him so… horny.

“I’ve been jumping from body to body ever since I was 20 year old.” Kent began. “I always found the feeling of taking over another person's life to be exhilarating. But honestly I only ever went for guys like me. My original body was skinny and hairless so for the longest time I’ve only ever swapped with dudes who were just as twinky as my original body was. I thought jumping into anything different would be… uncomfortable and strange. It’s hard to explain.” Kent looked down at his giant new body again before stealing a glance at his new reflection in a mirror across the room. “But you proved me hella fucking wrong!” He exclaimed.

With a giddy smile, Kent couldn’t help bouncing his pecs again. He never imagined being able to do that would be so fun. Or so erotic. “I just thought that since I’m always getting fucked by big hairy daddies that it might be interesting to try jumping into one for once. And fuck was I right!” He groaned while giving his nipples a strong pinch. “I feel so powerful! So manly! So…” Kent took a deep inhale through his nose, absorbing the scent of his new body. Allowing his nose to drift towards one of his armpits as he rose an arm up to expose the sweaty pit. The strong musky scent permeated his nostrils in a way that made Kent’s new cock jump. “So fuckin smelly!” He finished.

“Come on! Fuckin smell it!” He shouted at Warren. “I know you want to, you little bitch! Smell your former scent!”

Before Warren even had a chance to respond, Kent grabbed the back of his head and stuffed it into the sweaty armpit. Warren didn’t have a choice. He did as the body snatcher told and took an unwilling sniff of the pits he used to own. And it was… heavenly!

“There you go…” Kent grinned.

Warren couldn’t explain why but he quickly found himself digging his nose deeper into the pit. Snorting up the musky aroma he used to give off greedily. The manly scent was so addictive and overpowering. So much so that he found his new tiny dick starting to leak a little precum…

Seeing this, Kent pulled Warren out of his armpit with a triumphant look. “See? This isn’t so bad is it? Now you finally get a chance to worship the body you got so many other men to worship for you.” He stepped backwards a little before sitting himself back down on the bed. “All this huge hairy muscle. Just waiting to be touched and admired by you.”

Warren didn’t need to answer. The look on his face said it all. As much as he still wanted to be angry right now, he couldn’t help being turned on like hell.

“B-but if I do everything you ask then… will you give my body back?”

Kent laid back on the bed, sprawling out his mass and loving how much area his new body took up. “Hell no!” He cackled. “Now I know what it feels like to be huge and hairy, I plan on keeping this daddy bear body of yours for a good few years minimum! And when I eventually do jump again there’s no way in hell I’m going back to a body like that. When the day comes I’ll be hopping into another hot daddy! And another one after that!” Kent watched as the realisation of the situation hit Warren like a ton of bricks. “Sorry my man. I can’t thank you enough for the body but you’re never getting it back. You’re just gonna have to get used to being a skinny ass twink.”

Warren couldn’t believe it. In just a moment his body had been stolen from him like it was nothing. And now, assuming he stuck around, he’d have to watch this imposter use his former body however he saw fit. And once he got bored of it, Kent would just jump again leaving some other random man stuck in his body and parading it around instead. “But-” Warren began but he was sharply cut off.

“But nothing! I’m Warren Knox now!” Kent’s voice rumbled through the house, shortly followed by him kicking off his underwear and freeing his fat new cock at last. “Now get on this bed and worship your fuckin daddy.” He added, his voice much calmer this time as he grinned stupidly while giving his enormous biceps another flex to entice the red faced twink before him.

“Yes sir…” Warren submitted, knowing there was no other option for him. Conceding at last to crawling onto the bed on top of his former body. Now getting a true scope for just how massive it looked from inside the skinny twink body he now found himself in.

“Gooooood.” Kent grumbled as Warren began to rub and worship his biceps like the good little bitch he was now. “Once you’re done worshiping my muscles and licking daddy’s pits clean, I might let you take a ride on this cock if you’re lucky. You’d like that wouldn’t you? Getting your hole stretched by the cock you used to call your own. Getting filled with your own load. my load.”

Warren could hardly even answer. He knew he should be fighting against this. Trying to force a solution out of this body snatcher to find any possible way he could to take his body back. And yet he only found himself able to nod in agreement to what Kent was saying.

“I knew you would, boy.” Kent growled as he grabbed Warren’s head again but this time he squished the smaller man’s face between the thick hairy muscle pillows he now called pecs instead. Smothering him with how huge they were. “I’m gonna drain these fat balls into your ass every single night.” He whispered. “Until I jump into another daddy of course. After that you’ll have to beg whoever ends up in this body next to keep filling you.” Kent chuckled, already envisioning all the perverted fun he was gonna have in this body and every new dad body to come after.

[trickorswitch]

Opening Night

Stepping out of the shower, Jamie wiped off the condensation that had accumulated on the bathroom mirror. He stared at his reflection, moving his head from side to side as he touched his face, his hand brushing against his bristly beard. He inspected his facial hair, noticing how rampant he had let it grow.

Keep it or shave it off? Jamie pondered as he took out the hair trimmer. He then turned to look at his reflection again, this time taking a step back, allowing him to examine his whole self. 

Jamie frowned, pinching a bit of fat bulging out of his midsection, then cupping his pec with his hand, feeling it much more flabby than he preferred. He pulled at the thick jungle of hair lining his chest, while his eyes followed the happy trail going downwards towards his groin. 

“Might as well lean into the whole bear thing.” Jamie grumbled to himself as he turned on the trimmer, deciding to just trim the beard a bit. Once he was done he looked at the time, noting that it was almost time to leave.

Jamie had been planning on going to the grand opening of a new club in town. He was looking to unwind, have fun, maybe even meet a guy if he got lucky. After a stressful week at work he definitely needed it. What made Jamie feel uneasy however was that he was going alone. This would be his first time going out solo, something he would have preferred to have avoided, but unfortunately none of his friends accepted his offer to go out. But desperately needing to let loose after the hellish week, Jamie built up the courage to go. After taking a quick selfie with his attire of choice for the socials, Jamie headed on out.

It wasn’t long until Jamie’s Uber dropped him off in front of the club. A large neon sign hung at its entrance spelling out in huge letters “EUPHORIA”. Having second thoughts about going in alone, Jamie considered going back. Maybe just going to a bar instead. But knowing how disappointed he’d be in himself if he wimped out, Jamie once again summoned up the courage to head inside.

Jamie couldn’t even hear his own thoughts as he stepped inside the building. Loud music blared from every direction, the base from the speakers reverberated through Jamie’s entire body, causing his skin to tingle with every beat. For a club that just opened, the floor was already extremely sticky from all the spilled drinks. Jamie couldn’t help but think that he looked ridiculous as he took forceful steps while he made his way through the club.

Squeezing himself through a sea of sweaty bodies dancing to the music, Jamie eventually reached the bar, ordering himself one of his favorite fruity cocktails. The bartender looked him up and down before fulfilling his request. 

Over the next hour, Jamie would approach a few different men he found attractive, asking if they wanted to dance or if he could even buy them a drink, but unfortunately he’d be turned down every single time. Whatever confidence Jamie had would be shot to pieces by the time he returned to the bar as he solemnly ordered another drink.

“Striking out?” The bartender asked as he placed a napkin in front of Jamie, catching him off guard at his sudden intrusiveness. “Sorry but I couldn’t help but notice. I don’t mean to be nosy.”

“Yeah..” Jamie meekly responded, beginning to feel slightly embarrassed. He took a sip of his drink, the taste of alcohol feeling much stronger in this one. “I’m not unattractive am I?” He blurted out.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The bartender wasted no time responding. “I’d say you pull off the cub look quite well.”

“Cub?” Jamie was not quite sure how to respond to that comment. Not a bear or an otter or whatever other vernacular the queer community used to describe men of different body shapes. In his head, a cub denoted someone who lacked experience, a bit doe-eyed to the gay scene. Jamie was in his mid 30s, he was sure he’d be past that stage.

“You know, a young hairy guy, packing a bit of weight.” The bartender explained, oblivious to the fact that Jamie knew what he meant.

Before Jamie got a chance to respond, the lights inside the club began to dim and the loud, thumping music switched to a more electronic sound. Turning around, Jamie would notice some dancers coming up to the stage in nothing but skimpy underwear. One by one they took center stage, performing a quick little dance as the spotlight shone down on them. The club goers crowded around the stage, waving around dollar bills, those at the very front even sticking them in the waistbands of the dancers’ clothing.

One dancer in particular caught Jamie’s eye. An orange bandana matching an orange thong were the only things keeping the man clothed, something Jamie was especially thankful for as he gazed lustfully at the man’s lean and muscled body. Between the body rolls and bicep flexes, this dancer knew how to get the crowd going.

Jamie stared for a lot longer than he cared to admit. The man was obviously hot, but what Jamie took notice of was the sheer confidence the dancer emitted. Without hesitation he’d walk up to club patrons and perform these raunchy moves. He'd get as close to them without actually making contact. The smirk he’d give after people stuck dollar bills to the inside of his waistband particularly caught Jamie’s attention. He knew these people lusted after him, and was more than happy to prey on it.

“That’s Manny. He’s from Argentina, doesn’t speak a lick of English.” The bartender leaned across the bar, making it known that Jamie’s fixation on the man had become a bit obvious.

Jamie stared down into the drink swirling in his glass, his face turning red from the embarrassment of being called out. Did the bartender think that Jamie would have tried to make a move? Obviously never, that Manny guy was way out of his league. No way he'd ever give someone like Jamie the time of day. Instead of responding back, Jamie would just order another drink, hoping to drown the awkwardness.

By the time he was on his third, or maybe fourth, cocktail, Jamie found his tongue loosening. The bartender stood nearby, drying glasses and stealing glances at the increasingly tipsy patron.

“You ever... you ever look at someone,” Jamie began, words slightly slurred, “and think, I wanna be them?” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the stage. The dancer Manny was still commanding the crowd with his sculpted physique and effortless confidence.

The bartender raised an eyebrow. “You mean Manny?”

Jamie nodded emphatically, the alcohol making him more honest than usual. “Yeah. I mean, look at him! He’s like... perfect. If I looked like that, I’d never strike out. Never worry about going out alone. People would just... want me, y’know?” He sighed, taking another sip of his drink.

“Careful what you wish for,” the bartender said, his tone light but his expression unreadable. "Let's get some water in you."

The bartender brought a glass of water, but not before the somewhat drunk Jamie blurted out again. "Actually, yeah. I do wish it! Make it so!" The bartender just sighed.

The rest of the night blurred into a haze. Jamie vaguely remembered mumbling more about Manny, something about wanting confidence, wanting to be seen. But soon, the club's lights seemed to melt into indistinct shapes, the music becoming distant. Darkness enveloped him.

Jamie’s eyes fluttered open, his senses overwhelmed by the unfamiliar. His skin felt tight, his muscles coiled like springs beneath smooth, hairless skin. The room spun briefly as he sat up on a cushioned bench, the faint thudding of music beyond the walls grounding him. He glanced down at his body and froze.

“What the...?” he muttered, his voice raspier and deeper than usual. He held out his hands, which were veined and strong, his forearms corded with muscle. Looking further, he saw his torso. Lean, rippling, and sculpted in a way he had only dreamed of. His stomach was carved into a set of perfect abs, his chest broad and chiseled. And then, there was the orange thong stretched across his hips, a strikingly familiar piece of clothing.

Jamie scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding as he stumbled toward the large mirror hanging on the wall. The man staring back at him was undeniably Manny, the same lean, confident dancer he’d been fixated on all night. His jaw dropped as he touched his face, his reflection mirroring his every move. It wasn’t just the body; it was him. Somehow, Jamie had become Manny.

“Oh my God...” Jamie whispered, the realization hitting him like a freight train. Memories of his drunken conversation with the bartender surfaced. I want a body like Manny’s. Was this some bizarre, drunken hallucination?

He stared at his reflection, unable to resist the temptation. His hands ran over his chest, down his abs, and along his biceps, marveling at the strength he felt. Confidence radiated from the sight, intoxicating and new. Jamie smiled, then smirked, experimenting with expressions that felt natural yet foreign.

Before he could indulge further, the door to the dressing room swung open. Jamie turned quickly, startled, and his stomach dropped at the sight.

His own body, slouched, sweaty, and clearly intoxicated, was being half-carried into the room by the very same bartender from before. His doppelgänger’s head lolled to the side, and when he spoke, it was with Manny’s voice, thick with an Argentinian accent.

"¿Qué hiciste? ¿Por qué eres yo?" Manny growled, though his words were slurred. His glare was sharp despite his inebriation.

Jamie blinked, he had no prior knowledge of the Spanish language yet those words came out effortlessly out of his own lips. "Manny? I'm sorry but I don't know what's going on." He looked at the bartender, hoping for some kind of explanation for all of this.

The bartender, still holding Manny upright, let out a sigh and set the man down on a nearby chair. “Alright, calm down, both of you.” he said, his tone exasperated. He looked directly at Jamie. “I guess I owe you an explanation.”

Jamie’s mind raced, his new heart pounding. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “Why am I... like this?”

The bartender crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m a genie,” he said plainly, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “When you confessed your desire to have Manny’s body, well... I’m obligated to grant wishes. That’s my thing.”

Jamie’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding. Why are you working as a bartender then? Drunks must spill their desires to you all the time?" He pointed at himself as he spoke.

"Job pays well." The bartender shrugged. "I usually cut people off before they get too rambly, but I didn't figure you'd be such a lightweight." He said a bit too honestly. “You wanted confidence, a body like his. So here we are. But..” he continued, glancing at Manny, “the swap wasn’t exactly consensual on both ends, so... it’s reversible.”

Manny groaned, his head in his hands. “Reversible? Por favor, hazlo ya.” he pleaded, his voice strained.

Jamie looked between the bartender and his own body, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He had never felt so good about himself, so powerful, so free of the insecurities that plagued him. But this wasn’t his life, it was Manny’s. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t live someone else’s life, no matter how tempting it was.

“Swap us back.” Jamie said firmly, though the words stung. “This isn’t right.”

The bartender nodded, a hint of approval flickering in his eyes. “Alright. As you wish.” He snapped his fingers.

The change was instant. Jamie felt his perspective shift, his body returning to its familiar tipsy state. He was back in his own skin, with all its imperfections, as Manny reclaimed his rightful form.

Manny groaned as he stood, shaking off the lingering effects of Jamie’s earlier drinking. He glanced at Jamie, his expression softening slightly. “Gracias.” he muttered before leaving the room.

Jamie turned back to the bartender, feeling a pang of regret as he ran a hand over his softer body. “Well.” he said, forcing a chuckle, “I guess that’s that.”

The bartender gave him a sly smile. “Not quite.” He snapped his fingers again.

A warm sensation coursed through Jamie’s body. He looked down in awe as his frame began to change, not into Manny’s, but something new. His muscles swelled, his chest broadened, his beard thickened, and a dusting of gray added a rugged charm. His torso became strong and harry, his arms powerful. He kept the same layer of fat, but the gained muscle added a much more masculine touch than before.

He looked in the mirror and saw not someone else, but a version of himself he had always dreamed of. His face had much more of a gruffness to it, there was no denying that he was a man in this thirties anymore. His hair was different, shaved down to the scalp, something Jamie never thought he could pull off. Jewelry manifested itself onto Jamie, completing his new look. Jamie couldn't do anything else but flex and admire the new person he had become.

“Consider this a gift,” the bartender said. “You didn’t have to give up Manny’s body, but you did. That deserves something.”

Jamie was stunned. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice rich and deep.

“Now, go use that confidence,” the bartender said, motioning toward the door.

Jamie stepped out onto the dance floor, his new self commanding attention immediately. The very same men who denied his advances just earlier that night were now ogling at the muscle bear, but he paid them no mind. His eyes instead met those of a fellow muscular man across the room. The two gravitated toward each other, dancing close, the music pulsing around them.

When the man leaned in, Jamie didn’t hesitate. Their lips met in a deep, passionate kiss, and for the first time in a long while, Jamie felt truly alive.

[trickorswitch]

Stepping up as stepdad

My stepdad was supposed to pick me up from soccer practice when I found him passed out in the driver's seat. He was a good for nothing day drinker and he already reeked of stale beer and sweat by noon.

I tried shaking him awake but he groaned, stretching his tatted arms.

I resisted the urge of looking at his bulge. He was so dominating with his size and attitude. I wanted to hate him, but I lusted after him. Even when he drank too much and he got loud and angry. The other day he teased me, taunting me that I was just a scrawny fag, all the while he strutted around without his shirt. I especially hated how turned on I was when I heard the moaning at night, listening to the bed creaking and the animalistic grunts.

Now he was right in front of me, unconscious to the world. I wanted to reach out to him to feel his beard, trace the curves of his veiny arms and hairy abs. I wanted to feel every part of his body, to explore each crevice and hole. Better yet, I wanted to be him. I could live a better life than him.

As I reached out, I felt a strange pull as something in him sucked me in. I couldn't resist and felt my hand plunge into his warm, sticky flesh. And soon I found my face buried within his sweaty pecs. For a moment, I struggled to breathe. The meaty muscles of his chest filling my nostrils and my mouth. The next moment, I felt my shoulders sink deeper into him and deeper until I felt my feet kicking in the air. With a slurping pop, I absorbed into my stepdad.

A moment later, I felt myself take a deep breath and sigh. I reached my large, manly hands to my face, stroking my new beard. I couldn't believe it. I was him. I grabbed handfuls of my biceps and squeezed the muscles. I checked myself out, rubbing my abs. Moreover, I felt how it was being him. I felt light headed and dizzy. I guess he was drunk and I was feeling it too. It made me reckless as I unslung his monster cock that plowed pussy. I gave it several quick strokes when everything crashed together and I shot a load all over the steering wheel. I let out a moan. I came too fast, but who fucking cared. I had his body now and I jerk off as much as I wanted. Who fucking cared if I forgot to pick up that faggy brat? I'm practically a god with my looks and muscles. Women would trip over themselves to suck me off. I was a goddamn alpha.

I wiped off the cum on the steering wheel, and some old part of me must've broken through, since I brought my hand up to my lips and licked clean the spilled seed. Mmm, I moaned. The salty sweet pearls melted in my mouth. I never knew cum tasted so good. Forget women, I thought, before my stepdad's homophobic thoughts resurfaced.

Whatever happened to me, the result was clear: it was a struggle of control between me and my stepdad. Who would prevail? And would my stepdad's body become a pussy-fucking stud or a cum-swallowing slut?

[trickorswitch]

Coach needs a body.

I was chilling in the collage’s gym, exercising as we were suppose to in the lesson . I exiled myself from others at that time to be more focused on my gains that I’ve been trying to improve for a while as I was the least strongest on the team and needed to improve for football.

That was until coach primarily came over to me in a hurry. “Dan, please. Come follow me. I need you.” He said, panting and near collapse. “I can’t explain here and I’m running out of time please!” He remarked and I accepted. He led me into the locker rooms where nobody was there. He locked the door behind us and put the keys on the bench.

“I need to borrow your body Dan. I can’t believe I’m saying that but I am. Just stay in here for 5 minutes in my body that’s all. Do what you want in my body but don’t leave and don’t tell anyone please you are my last hope” he said frantically and sweating from the head down as I looked at him in bewilderment. “Uhh...-“I said “Close enough. Hold on for a second this will feel rough.” He said, putting a odd mirror contraption in the Centre of us, it started to spin and admit odd colours and turned my vision white. As my vision dilated I saw myself sitting in front of me. “Thank you! Thank you! You don’t know how much good you’ve done Dan! Thank you! I’m sorry, good you’ve done "Coach"” he said, then grabbing his keys and rushing out, locking the door again with me stuck in the changing rooms in Coach’s body

[trickorswitch]

Darrius frowned at his phone. The mostly empty MARTA car wobbled on its tracks on its way to Midtown. He was meeting a few of his friends for a night on the streets of Atlanta—classes were over, graduation had concluded, and he was looking forward to the night in a whatever-happens-happens kind of way. So the sudden FaceTime ring coming through upset the steady high he was brewing, figuratively and literally.

The fuck was Miguel doing FaceTime’ing him?

Morehouse was known for its considerably large gay population, but Miguel was easily as the head bitch on top, in a manner of speaking. Darrius wasn’t prejudiced, by any means—he and his cousin had jacked off together tons of times through the years, who hadn’t, that shit wasn’t gay—but he couldn’t stand how much Miguel flaunted it all the time. The two of them had shared plenty of classes and Miguel was never shy about the occasional grin + wink. Darrius took a sigh and hit answer.

“What do you want, Migs.” Darrius monotoned in more of a whine than a question.

“‘Migs,’ uucgh, it’s Miguel, cabron, get it right,” Miguel sassed teasingly in his quick Puerto Rican accent. Darrius rolled his eyes as Miguel waggled his finger at him with his quick camera movements.

“Whatchu want Miguel,” Darrius groaned.

“Que impaciente, fine! Hold up.” Miguel changed his camera to his front facing camera and Darrius could see that he was stepping towards his bathroom. The hell was this??

“Hey yooo!” As Miguel stepped into the bathroom he appeared in frame reflected into the bathroom mirror, completely and totally nude. He’d at least had the decency to cover his junk with his other hand, but yeah, full birthday suit.

“Aww, come on, dude! What the fuck?! You really think I—”

“Shhh shh, espera, calm down, check this out,” Miguel tapped on his screen a few times, “Aaaaaaand, mira!” He tapped one more time on his screen.

“UUOOFGH…” Both of the guys huffed out a forceful breath on opposite ends of the call as if they’d been socked in the stomach, but neither felt any pain. Instead, Darrius felt like he’d been sucked into himself a little bit, like his entire frame got a little bit tighter, and a little bit more compact. His vainly snug clothing now felt comfortably loose on him as he looked down on himself to see that these sensations were more than that. He was smaller! Not puny, not his usual ball player size, but definitely many pounds lighter without his hard-earned muscle. And…? His tighter skin looked lighter, too?

He looked back at his phone to see Miguel’s head rolled back in ecstasy, his entire frame blooming outwards with athletic strength and size. “RRNNMMF,” he gurgled/grunted deeply through the phone as he rolled his head back around, his hair lengthened outwards and upwards and his features darkened. His facial hair remained the same but his features morphed and twisted with a shake of his head. It wasn’t more than a few seconds before Darrius pieced together just who exactly he was now looking at: himself.

“Ayyyy, lookin’ good Darrius baby!” Miguel intoned deeply with a waggle of his tongue.

Darrius could see now in his tiny window on screen that he looked exactly like Miguel too!

“Migs, the fuck??!” He hissed in a sharp whisper at his phone, drawing a couple inquiring looks from the fellow passengers, along with a just few double takes from folks close by who were certain they had seen another guy sitting there moments before.

Miguel giggled excitedly on the other end, twisting and turning, getting a load of his new curvaceous angles, “Right?! Que guapoooo, no?” He let loose his hand protecting his modesty and did a saucy, gyrating, Latin step, his—Darrius’s—meat flopping around with his quick sways.

“Miguel, man, I’m serious, how th—the fuck is this?? I’m meeting up with my people tonight, Im out here in public, I’m trying to get my dick wet, I’m supposed to meet my family on Monday, why would y—?!”

“Hey, hey, tranquilo, hombre! I’m just trying to have a lil fun too! Don’t worry, baby! Look, who you seeing tonight? Angela? Krystal?”

Darrius was breathing heavy, angry breaths. He knew the two would be in the group tonight though. He allowed himself a few angry nods of the head.

“Those chicas loooove me, dude! We get along great, even though they want me. Always after mi leche, know what I mean? Fag hags, man, they always want a lil, truth! Go getchu some of that tonight, mano! I bet if you played the game right, you could bag them both at once if you wanted!”

Darrius pondered this through his angry breaths. When he mentioned getting his dick wet, he did have Krystal in mind. Hell, now that Miguel brought her up, Angela would be sick too. He knew that they hung around Miguel always, hung off him really. His mind immediately pictured the three of them fucking in knots on top of sweaty sheets, eating Krystal out while breeding Angela, catching them both off guard by his—oh, WOW, Miguel was packing. He could feel his borrowed hog swelling to obscene turgidity in his designer jeans. He leaned forward to hide its upcurved head from drawing too much attention to his tent.

Miguel must’ve noticed his change in demeanor and interjected, pleased with himself, “Seeee?! Not such bad night after all, huh?” He giggled and brought the camera close to his—again, Darrius’s!—face. “Also, I guess you just realized I’ve got you beat in at least one way, no?”

“Not funny, man. This shit’s still fucked up,” Darrius saved face.

“Still, you’re so fuckin’ STRONGGG, bro! I mean—RRRNNG!” Miguel flexed both his borrowed arms intensely, pursing his lips, lifted them up behind his head and crunched his abs into definition with another deep grunt, put one foot up on his bathroom counter and tugged on his chubbing meat as he popped his pecs a few times.

“Alright, alright, man, that ain’t what I wanna see,” Darrius had calmed down a bit.

“It’s all you, mano! Also, just enjoy the weekend, man! Don’t worry about the familia, bro, I promise I’ll call you back on Sunday and we can get this sorted back out.”

“Fuckin’ better, dude, I swear, I—”

“If you still want to.” Miguel concluded with another cheeky waggle of his tongue for the camera.

“Miguel, seriously, how—?”

“No time, amor, gotta take care of this,” he smacked his borrowed pole against his abs, “Then we both got a biiiiiig weekend ahead, right baby?”

“Migs—!!”

“Ciao, guapito!” Miguel hung up the call, leaving Darrius staring confused back at himself—well, not himself—in his phone’s screen.

What in the holy everloving fuuuuuck, he thought to himself, huffing out a breath and leaning back in his seat, his (frankly massive) tent now subsiding.

He didn’t feel terrible. He didn’t even look terrible, that was at least true. Miguel was right, girls were always hanging off him despite his disinterest in them sexually. He flaunted his looks and kept himself looking tight, like most of the Morehouse gays.

Darrius unlocked his phone—now having to input his code since his facial recognition no longer worked—and looked back at his reflection.

Clean. Svelte. Fresh. Sharp. Runner-muscled. Manicured. Almost pretty.

Hell, he could work with this!

He’d have to let his bros know he’d caught something, hopefully they’d buy it. Should they be surprised by Miguel showing up all the sudden? No, not necessarily. Miguel, as Darrius knew, had friends everywhere. Darrius’s friends may be upset for a moment by his intrusion, but after seeing how well Miguel could hang… after seeing how good of a wingman he could be… after seeing how skillfully Miguel could knock em back… after seeing how touchy-feely he and Angela and Krystal were getting throughout the night… He was sure they’d come around on Miguel in no time.

Darrius rolled his eyes with a sigh, figuring if this was how his weekend was turning out, he might as well roll with it. He started his texts to update his bros, planned his next steps, and scrolled through Angela’s and Krystal’s IG pages again, pawing at his newly well-endowed self greedily.

Hearing the intercom chime indicating his stop, he slipped his phone back into his pocket, adjusted his elephant cock under his waistband, and stepped into the hot, humid, Atlanta night air, his newly-loose clothes billowing in the thick summer breeze.

[trickorswitch]

Taking What’s Owed

Benito was always on the outs. Coming out as trans as a young kid felt empowering at first but when it came down to it kids are vicious. Benito spent years being bullied until the day he graduated from high school. When he got to college he thought he had gotten through all the childish bullying but he was wrong. The non violent bullying was over but the violent harassment can of worms was barely opening.

Benito prided himself on being resilient and he managed to get through all the harassment when he entered a professional environment, but working in sports medicine meant it was ruthless. Plus being surrounded by the stereotypical model male physique only added to his inner turmoil. One day he was finishing taping a clinic regular when someone else came in. He didn’t notice his face at first but then as he rounded the corner and locked eyes with the stud he realized it was his childhood tormentor, Hiram.

It figures that a dick like Hiram wouldn’t remember Benito. He got situated on the table essentially assuming someone would come and treat him. The man splayed himself out on the table in his tiny shorts and black muscle fit shirt. He had become one of the newest pro soccer league players and Benito didn’t know but he surely did now.

As Benito began massaging out Hiram’s quads, just the muscular legs presence in front of him presented a significantly dysphoric challenge for him. He fought the thoughts in his head to try and remember that this was his tormentor. The man who made him feel insignificant, tiny, and worthless for most of his life. Benito lost himself in the massage staring at Hiram’s sizable chest. It’s weird for a soccer player to be so built but clearly Hiram liked to maintain the look of a domineering alpha so it all checked out for him. And check out Benito did as he was nearly salivating at how squeezable and inviting Hiram’s pecs looked. He wanted to just dump his face between them and sniff, motorboat, and lick every single inch of the large and strong muscles.

Benito powered through the massage and told Hiram to undress to get into the cold plunge. The tiny twink disassociated as he chose to busy himself filling the tub with ice for Hiram. The buzzing hum of the ice machine began twisting into an echoey voice that pulled Benito’s focus. He slowed his scooping into the bucket and focused in on what the disembodied voice was trying to muster out. A disturbing and menacing voice called out….

“You can have what you desire. A silence to those inconsolable voices in your head and torment for your tormentor.” It hissed

“I’m going insane…” Benito muttered to himself

“This is very real, but what you desire comes at a cost.” A threatening laugh followed.

“What’s the cost?”

“You can only choose one. I can end the insecurity your body gives you or torment your tormentor for all those years of tribulation.”

“I really am going insane.”

“Whenever your heart decides what it truly wants….I’ll know and so it shall be.”

The buzzing hum of the ice machine began once again. Hiram stood mostly unclothed and ready to get into the tub. Benito filled up the tub with the last bucket of ice before going back to the office as Hiram soaked. His mind raced at just the idea of what the voice told him. Could he really be free of the body dysmorphia that easily? But he also believed in karma and this could be the moment Hiram got every single thing he deserved for the evil things he had permanently etched onto Benito’s psyche. The timer beeped for Hiram to get out as Benito returned to the moment….had an hour really passed by already?

“Ah you decided.”

As Benito got up, time slowed down as he turned around from his office chair to check on Hiram. Both men became disoriented and everything went black for a second. When Benito came to, his blurry vision slowly came into focus. A cold air conditioner breeze broke his conscious thought as he lowered his head and gasped. Standing below his head was a nearly naked torso drenched in freezing water. As he picked up his head he saw…..himself across the room in the dorky polo and khakis the team trainers wore. But there was no mirrors here…how?

Benito’s stomach sank as he realized he had unconsciously decided on the question he thought was hypothetical. Benito figured this would silence his tormentor and the voices in his head so maybe the voices was just playing a joke and he didn’t have to decide. A smug grin graced the new Hiram’s face as Benito felt the heftiness of the musculature and alpha frame he now possessed. With a gasp and a thud, Benito saw his former body fall to the ground after fainting from the supernatural swap. His coworkers rushed to check on him as Benito gathered Hiram’s clothes on a nearby table and sauntered back to the locker room sopping wet. Each step he’d intentionally swing his new slutty waist complete with thick quads and firm round ass. That paired with the momentum of feeling the new slabs of meat on his chest jiggling up and down in a satisfyingly dominant way. After he got back to the locker room, his new teammates had left giving him the perfect chance to explore his new body.

As a man of science Benito wanted to understand how this was possible but the new testosterone raging through his system was fueling him to feel things amplified to the max. He was feral this was the post workout horniness bros always talk about amongst each other. But Benito was giddy this would affirm the vision of himself he always saw in his head during his transition. Stacked with muscle and a dick impossibly thick and long that could get guys and girls salivating…no begging for him to give it to them.

Benito pulled down the briefs Hiram was wearing in the cold plunge to finally unwrap possibly his favorite surprise. His new body was virtually made in his dreams. As much as he hated Hiram before he was thankful to be Hiram now as his sex drive pushed his heart rate faster, blood rushed to his new beautiful and girthy tool. He gasped in shock seeing just how hung he was now. Surely this was excessive like who could take all this?!

He turned on the steamy shower and started to jerk off for the first time. Benito had been gay since he came out so it’s not like this was a foreign motion but the act of doing it on himself was something he had only fantasized about. Twisting and jerking up and down the shaft, Benito felt a pleasure electrify him as he licked up intensity.

Through the cloud of steam, Hiram now in a more diminutive body angrily came in searching for his former body only to find a perverse show being put on. There his body was on full display as steam and hot water cascaded around the body he worked so hard to attain. He watched as his body went through uncharacteristic and foreign motions of guessing speed and intensity to stroke at. He watched as the imposter moaned to himself and braced against the shower tiles. Hiram stirred inside….was he…..getting turned on seeing himself like this? Well, that does make sense, someone so vain so cocky. What could possibly turn himself on more than himself?

He started tiptoeing towards Benito. He thought maybe this is an insane fever dream because nothings making any sense. One step made a louder splash and Benito got startled and turned around to see Hiram in his former body. Channeling the original body’s confidence instead of stopping pumping Benito released his sizable shaft and sauntered over to Hiram making sure to emphasize his horse self swinging side to side. Grabbing him by the shoulders, Benito guided Hiram to his knees with his new found strength and squeezed his jaw to motion for him to lower it and open his mouth.

The pair locked their former eyes onto one another’s and just accepted their new roles in the situation. Foreign based on their past lives but accepted in this moment. Benito gently kept a grip on his former jaw as he guided his thick sausage into it gently. His former mouth having to voluntarily lower his jaw and widen its opening to allow it to enter. Hiram may have never done this back in his cis het days but Benito’s body was guiding him through it almost as if instinctual. The impossible size finally hitting the back of his throat where it continued to go down a little. Just as he was worried he may pass out a reprieve came as it slid out but not before it was quickly reintroduced. Benito began pounding his former throat as a devious grin wiped across his face. The satisfaction of humbling his former bully with his own tool was the cherry on top. This coupled with the preshow he gave was already a lot of jerking for this body. Premature to the fun he was having with his former self, he felt it. This had to be the climax. Benito relished the feeling as the warmth surrounded him, his core tightened and as he freaked out about what was coming, no pun intended, he released his hands from their exploration and placed both on the back of his former head and released down his throat. Pulse after pulse had him moaning and convulsing in pleasure. He forced Hiram to take the warm salty delight in stride.

“Oh hohohooooo yeah. Take itttttttunfhhhhhhhhh.”

After the moment was done, Benito pulled his softening yet still intimidating looking dick out of Hiram’s mouth. And as the twink stared up at his former face with a mix of fear and ferocity, Benito bent over and locked lips to give him the sluttiest make out for 30 seconds. Locked lips, tongues tied, bitten lips. Benito sauntered out of the shower before getting dressed.

He looked over at himself in the mirror…despite getting everything he thought he wanted something was gnawing at him….hmmm I need to be bigger…..need to hit the gym some more I’m looking small.

A haunting voice laughing in the distance knowing full well that just because Benito got a male body finally, he’ll never be able to outrun his own dissatisfaction with his perception of himself.

But Benito would sure try…

[trickorswitch]

The Gridiron kid hits the Pool, a "Last to Drink" spin-off

Lance had known he hit the jackpot before he even consummated the swap by drinking his dose of the potion. Seeing Jordan sip from the spiked punch was incredible. He had long felt that Jordan had it all. In high school, like many places, perception was reality. And what many students perceived of Jordan was the image of perfection.

Jordan was tall, lean, muscular, and hot. He was undeniably one of the most attractive people at the school, and even the straight boys and gay girls would agree with that. Lance was envious, and he knew he wasn't alone. He supposed on some level it was funny for a football jock to care about a swimmer. Yet, Lance was never content with his body. He had been molded into a football player from his childhood by his father. There was never a question of what sport Lance would play, for his father had already decided.

Lance didn't necessarily hate football. But he had unconsciously begun to associate it with a lack of control. He felt like his father pushed him into making his entire life football. He was interested in other things, like music, video games, girls... all that stuff and more. But when your father is a failed semi-pro athlete with an ax to grind, well - you sort of become a blank slate for them to make quite the impression on.

When Lance woke up that next day, he found some relief in knowing that he wasn't going to have his father barking at him to get up and start conditioning. What he wasn't expecting when his alarm went off was the phone alert saying it was time for morning practice. He hadn't been aware how early Jordan was up for his swim practices. Thankfully, the group of body-swapped people had had the foresight to create detailed instructions for each other to navigate their lives.

Lance set about gathering his - Jordan's - gear. And before he knew it was driving to the school to practice in the on site pool. As he drove, Lance started to wonder if he had traded one hell for another.

He would ruminate on this until he entered the locker room. What broke him from that pernicious thought, however, was when he saw his reflection in the wide bank of mirrors on the wall. He had just stripped down and tugged on the speedo when he got a good look at his new form. The other guys on the team paid little attention, but if they had they might have noticed Jordan ogling himself.

Lance was awed by his appearance. For one, there is something unique about seeing your reflection that other folks can't really understand. It's an image that is bound to you, no matter where you go or what you do, every mirror or reflective surface shows you as you physically are. And yet, for the first time in his life - the mirror showed not his familiar meathead face, but the chiseled face of a teenage god who could render an entire team of cheerleaders naked should he deign to give them his attention.

Perhaps he would have to deal with the swimming practices, the meets, and the tedium of yet another sport... but if the trade off was getting to see such a marvelous face in the mirror constantly... well, he might just be ok with that.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the town, Jordan was huffing as he ran in Lance's body. Lance's father had woken him up with a sudden and loud outburst that morning, yelling for him to get up and start with a 5 mile run.

Lance was fit, but in a way that carried the weight and strength that Jordan was used to in a much different way. For one, he was much heavier, and had shorter legs. His running was altogether a different cadence that made him feel almost like he was loping instead of doing a true jog. What's more, he was so much hairier, sweatier, and honestly - smellier. He had traded his sculpted and well-manicured body for what could only be a modern caveman's corpus.

All of these physical factors were uncomfortably and repeatedly hammered into Jordan's attention. The smell of his own body odor was repulsive, like stale fritos and something musky he would expect from a dying animal. The front of his torso was a little flabby too, the apron belly kept slamming into his body, which was a distracting and uncomfortable sensation. He wasn't even pushing himself half as hard as he would in his real body, and yet he was sweating buckets. The stained grey tee shirt he had found was already soaked through the fabric completely.

It was a nightmare, to be certain. He had hoped that waking up this morning he'd find himself back in his perfect, non-sweaty body that would court any girl in the school - teachers included. When he got back, he'd have to have a hook up that night just to remind himself of what he was missing out being trapped in this stinky, pudgy sweat-monster.

If he ever got back, anyways.

[trickorswitch]

Jaxon, my friend, loved anime. Not the girly Sailor Moon shit, but the superhero stuff like My Hero Acadamia and Naruto. When we first switched bodies, I thought his room was so nerdy; his room was covered head-to-toe in anime posters and manga. I had always been a outdoorsy type of guy and my room was a pigsty of sports equipment. Which is why we switched bodies. He wanted to experience a jock-ish body and I wanted to understand his hobby.

It had only been a week when it happened.

I don't like to talk about it, but the switch is now permanent and I'm adjusting to this new life as Jaxon.

I tried to keep up appearances with studying, reading manga, keeping to my bookish self while grieving. An entire life gone.

I've grown to appreciate Jaxon's hobbies while I don't particularly enjoy them. His books about charismatic heroes that protect the weak seem childish, but I understand their sentiment. For his memory, I try to be a good person.

After a while, I went back to my old hobbies I enjoyed as my old self. I worked out, played sports, joined teams; however, I kept my initial promise to him that I wouldn't let his grades suffer. I watched his scrawny body develop with muscle. His abs grew and became defined, chiseled, and cut. His arms bulged and his pecs grew meaty. I find myself calling it his body. But I guess it's mine. My body grew even stronger than my original.

People used to tease Jaxon for being bookish and weak. Now people seem to love him. I'm the total package, they say. I'm bookish, nerdy, and kind hearted. But I also got muscles, pecs, washboard abs, and a noticeable bulge.

As I'm getting ready to head off to college, I'm also thinking of love. I'm not sure who's desire it is, but I like guys. Whether that came with the body or myself, I don't know. Jaxon and I blended so much of our lives together, it's impossible to untangle our identities and his memory.

Whatever comes next, I'll keep that in mind.

[trickorswitch]

Reason to: Spend Summer Break as Your Dad

Because aside from the fact that no one asked you out to any group vacation, your father is also not necessarily working during the summer since he's a principal in your former high school. Yes he still planned some admin stuff, joining development programs, interviewing people or might be attending some conference or meetings with city council, the district superintendent and whatnot, but summer is pretty chill too for a principal of a small high school like him. That leaves him with ample time to arrange his schedule favorably, he just never expected you to slip into him during his sleep and hijacked his summer.

You strategically slipped into him right before his first one-week paid vacation. Yes you still have to juggle his upcoming schedule, but he took another week-long break in the next 2 weeks so it's just a matter of utilizing the time you have. Besides, the conference he needed to attend this following week is still practically a vacation for you as you planned to use it as a way to find new, random hookups that you might never even encounter again. You never have sex before this or even flirt with others, but you're pretty sure a groan of complain about your shirt being too tight and a wink later, you can get anyone, men or women, on their knees begging to have a taste of your body.

But that's for later, as for now, you just finished interviewing that hot metropolitan twink that might be a tad too desperate for a job, he'll swing by tomorrow morning to convince you why your school should hire him to become an additional history teacher. If only he can be there today lathering your hairy, muscular form with the tanning oil you just bought.......ah well, not like you cannot enjoy time with your self.

[trickorswitch]

Reason to: Hookup with That Twink

Because Jurgen need Matthias "Matt" Bauer to become part of his roster of young and aspiring bodybuilder he coached. Yet, he noticed that the boy knew how everyone paid attention to him and hyped up his potential. That caused Matt to highly viewed his value and he acted like he could hire someone with more credential than Jurgen, which of course pissed Jurgen's off. He's a literal former national champion, yes he might not be the youngest or most in-demand coach around, but he got tons of experience that he really can share to the youngsters. But, of course, deep down, he wanted Matt because he saw a future champion in him in ways he didn't see his current roster could achieve, so of course he's competitive about wanting to secure a partnership with the young talent that seemed to be closer to some of Jurgen's younger rivals

Well, Jurgen is not the type that accepted rejection on his wishes or demand easily and he got just the right tools that no one else owned to sway Matt to join his crew. It involved spiking Matt protein shake which then caused the young bodybuilder to look like he's seen a ghost and so sickly, he certainly could not and should not push for a workout session. As he attempted to walk to the locker room, he stumbled upon some machine and even dropped to the floor yet he steadied himself and telling people to not worry about him.

As soon as he entered the locker room, not only he eventually lost his balance, he also lose his consciousness and then the freak show started as something leaked out from him. It was the essence that made Matt.....well, Matt, and just like his consciousness, it was also practically vanished into thin air leaving only a crumpled skin for the submissive, people-pleasing twink the chance to slip into.

Jurgen met Rene from a casual hookup from a longing stare in the locker room that intrigued Jurgen.

The one time thing turned into quite a regular encounter and spilled out from the gym into other places including Jurgen's home. Jurgen slept with Rene weekly and somehow, the 23 years old revealed a lot about himself like his desire to be bigger (hence the occasional workout he did) as he wanted to be able to attract more DILF, his struggle to maintain his job and keep himself afloat in the economy, or how he's such a people-pleaser, he would do anything asked out of him. Jurgen decided to use all that info for his benefit as he offered Rene a chance of a lifetime

Rene instantly leaped with joy upon seeing Matt empty and lifeless skin when he walked into the locker room after Jurgen's texted him to enter the gym from the back door reserved only for the employees.

It stirred his cock to its full-length watching Rene's frail bony body easily slipped into the suit yet managed to fill it and even flexed Matt's muscles with ease and giving it a sense of.....density. Jurgen's eyes watched intently every single pressure and adjustment that Rene inflicted to Matt's body from the inside. The most arousing moment for him was how Rene's cock traveled down Matt's lower abdomen before finding the entrance to Matt's cock sheath which surged to life as soon as Rene's filled it. He knew the twink's 4 inchers that always shoot out its load a tad too early everytime they fucked and to see how it controlled Matt's 7.5 inchers soft cock caused him to leak pre because Matt's cock literally bounced and twitched looking very much intimidating despite literally being controlled by a pathetic little wimp.

As the rest of Matt's crumpled skin turned to life once more, Jurgen prepared himself to welcome the new Matt's as he stared at Rene's twinkling oceanic blue eyes for one last time before he submerged his head entirely into the void left behind by Matt's. Craning his neck and arching his body to ensure full assimilation to the meatsuit, Matt's then stood up with a grin on his face as he said

"Hey there dude, you enjoyed what you seen?" Matt said with the sarcastic "dude" emphasized

"Ohhh, I did, I really did. Call me Coach from now on though,"

"Okay, Coach. So, what do you think of my form? Anything you want to inspect first? How far should I cut? The first competition to get my pro card of the season is in a month, I wanna know your opinion," he said seductively as he purposefully flexed his muscles and exaggerated his arches

"My opinion is that you are perfect, boy. These glutes.....mmmhhhh....fuck, you put on some insane work there already. Flex that biceps for me, double bi,"

So he did, flexing both of his arms and then emphasized his triceps afterward.

"Mmmm......so round. So perfect. This must be 16 inches or something. More room to grow but you're heading to the right direction. Now turn around and face me, I wanna see you spread that lats from the mirror,"

As he turned around, Jurgen couldn't hold himself as he lunged on Matt's face, both of them kissed passionately in the locker room with no care in the world. Jurgen's finally felt a sense of relief that he might really hit the jackpot with this one. A merger of both worlds, a star pupil with form so perfect that is also a passionate and obedient sex partner? Life's only going to get better after this, he thought to himself as he groped Matt's firm ass and tried to pry it open with his fingers.

---

Within minutes after his attempt to rest, the previously pale and sickly Matthias walked out from the locker room refreshed and looking like he's ready to smash his workout from the perspective of others. Jurgen followed behind him with a smug smile knowing he got the best of both worlds, his wishes and desire, as always, never failed to materialize. What he wanted, he got it, including Matt's Bauer himself

[trickorswitch]

Auction Winner

When I heard of that "Body Auction" app thing, I thought it was all some joke some celebrity stirred, or something weirdos did for kicks. It just seemed like an easy way for someone to just donate a lot of money and act like a big deal for an hour or two. I kept seeing ads and tweets and everything else about the app. At the start I thought only fools would use it, but overtime I became more curious about it. I downloaded the app, spent a good 20 minutes looking at people. Then I found him, Marcus. He barely had any bids, but he was at the forefront of my mind. I scanned his description; Three Days, 37 years old, Full control possession. How could I say no to that. I placed the bid, waiting patiently for two minutes, hoping nobody would place a bid last second. Then I woke up, finding myself standing in front of the mirror in a public gym. At first, I thought I was dreaming. Then I flexed, accidentally. “Oh my god,” I whispered, but erupted with a deep voice. I spent a good while in that bathroom, experimenting with my new tanky physique. I couldn't stop grinning. Then again, I couldn't stop moving. I just kept flexing and shifting as I stood, always keeping my eyes locked on myself. I watched my veins pop as they danced around my muscles, filled with blood and testosterone. A hundred words could describe how I was feeling right now; Warm, Powerful, Energetic, Indestructible. it all made it so clear to me why people spent this much money, and typically that was only for a hour or two - You're telling me I am going to look like this for three days? What a deal.

[trickorswitch]

Taking What’s Owed

Benito was always on the outs. Coming out as trans as a young kid felt empowering at first but when it came down to it kids are vicious. Benito spent years being bullied until the day he graduated from high school. When he got to college he thought he had gotten through all the childish bullying but he was wrong. The non violent bullying was over but the violent harassment can of worms was barely opening.

Benito prided himself on being resilient and he managed to get through all the harassment when he entered a professional environment, but working in sports medicine meant it was ruthless. Plus being surrounded by the stereotypical model male physique only added to his inner turmoil. One day he was finishing taping a clinic regular when someone else came in. He didn’t notice his face at first but then as he rounded the corner and locked eyes with the stud he realized it was his childhood tormentor, Hiram.

It figures that a dick like Hiram wouldn’t remember Benito. He got situated on the table essentially assuming someone would come and treat him. The man splayed himself out on the table in his tiny shorts and black muscle fit shirt. He had become one of the newest pro soccer league players and Benito didn’t know but he surely did now.

As Benito began massaging out Hiram’s quads, just the muscular legs presence in front of him presented a significantly dysphoric challenge for him. He fought the thoughts in his head to try and remember that this was his tormentor. The man who made him feel insignificant, tiny, and worthless for most of his life. Benito lost himself in the massage staring at Hiram’s sizable chest. It’s weird for a soccer player to be so built but clearly Hiram liked to maintain the look of a domineering alpha so it all checked out for him. And check out Benito did as he was nearly salivating at how squeezable and inviting Hiram’s pecs looked. He wanted to just dump his face between them and sniff, motorboat, and lick every single inch of the large and strong muscles.

Benito powered through the massage and told Hiram to undress to get into the cold plunge. The tiny twink disassociated as he chose to busy himself filling the tub with ice for Hiram. The buzzing hum of the ice machine began twisting into an echoey voice that pulled Benito’s focus. He slowed his scooping into the bucket and focused in on what the disembodied voice was trying to muster out. A disturbing and menacing voice called out….

“You can have what you desire. A silence to those inconsolable voices in your head and torment for your tormentor.” It hissed

“I’m going insane…” Benito muttered to himself

“This is very real, but what you desire comes at a cost.” A threatening laugh followed.

“What’s the cost?”

“You can only choose one. I can end the insecurity your body gives you or torment your tormentor for all those years of tribulation.”

“I really am going insane.”

“Whenever your heart decides what it truly wants….I’ll know and so it shall be.”

The buzzing hum of the ice machine began once again. Hiram stood mostly unclothed and ready to get into the tub. Benito filled up the tub with the last bucket of ice before going back to the office as Hiram soaked. His mind raced at just the idea of what the voice told him. Could he really be free of the body dysmorphia that easily? But he also believed in karma and this could be the moment Hiram got every single thing he deserved for the evil things he had permanently etched onto Benito’s psyche. The timer beeped for Hiram to get out as Benito returned to the moment….had an hour really passed by already?

“Ah you decided.”

As Benito got up, time slowed down as he turned around from his office chair to check on Hiram. Both men became disoriented and everything went black for a second. When Benito came to, his blurry vision slowly came into focus. A cold air conditioner breeze broke his conscious thought as he lowered his head and gasped. Standing below his head was a nearly naked torso drenched in freezing water. As he picked up his head he saw…..himself across the room in the dorky polo and khakis the team trainers wore. But there was no mirrors here…how?

Benito’s stomach sank as he realized he had unconsciously decided on the question he thought was hypothetical. Benito figured this would silence his tormentor and the voices in his head so maybe the voices was just playing a joke and he didn’t have to decide. A smug grin graced the new Hiram’s face as Benito felt the heftiness of the musculature and alpha frame he now possessed. With a gasp and a thud, Benito saw his former body fall to the ground after fainting from the supernatural swap. His coworkers rushed to check on him as Benito gathered Hiram’s clothes on a nearby table and sauntered back to the locker room sopping wet. Each step he’d intentionally swing his new slutty waist complete with thick quads and firm round ass. That paired with the momentum of feeling the new slabs of meat on his chest jiggling up and down in a satisfyingly dominant way. After he got back to the locker room, his new teammates had left giving him the perfect chance to explore his new body.

As a man of science Benito wanted to understand how this was possible but the new testosterone raging through his system was fueling him to feel things amplified to the max. He was feral this was the post workout horniness bros always talk about amongst each other. But Benito was giddy this would affirm the vision of himself he always saw in his head during his transition. Stacked with muscle and a dick impossibly thick and long that could get guys and girls salivating…no begging for him to give it to them.

Benito pulled down the briefs Hiram was wearing in the cold plunge to finally unwrap possibly his favorite surprise. His new body was virtually made in his dreams. As much as he hated Hiram before he was thankful to be Hiram now as his sex drive pushed his heart rate faster, blood rushed to his new beautiful and girthy tool. He gasped in shock seeing just how hung he was now. Surely this was excessive like who could take all this?!

He turned on the steamy shower and started to jerk off for the first time. Benito had been gay since he came out so it’s not like this was a foreign motion but the act of doing it on himself was something he had only fantasized about. Twisting and jerking up and down the shaft, Benito felt a pleasure electrify him as he licked up intensity.

Through the cloud of steam, Hiram now in a more diminutive body angrily came in searching for his former body only to find a perverse show being put on. There his body was on full display as steam and hot water cascaded around the body he worked so hard to attain. He watched as his body went through uncharacteristic and foreign motions of guessing speed and intensity to stroke at. He watched as the imposter moaned to himself and braced against the shower tiles. Hiram stirred inside….was he…..getting turned on seeing himself like this? Well, that does make sense, someone so vain so cocky. What could possibly turn himself on more than himself?

He started tiptoeing towards Benito. He thought maybe this is an insane fever dream because nothings making any sense. One step made a louder splash and Benito got startled and turned around to see Hiram in his former body. Channeling the original body’s confidence instead of stopping pumping Benito released his sizable shaft and sauntered over to Hiram making sure to emphasize his horse self swinging side to side. Grabbing him by the shoulders, Benito guided Hiram to his knees with his new found strength and squeezed his jaw to motion for him to lower it and open his mouth.

The pair locked their former eyes onto one another’s and just accepted their new roles in the situation. Foreign based on their past lives but accepted in this moment. Benito gently kept a grip on his former jaw as he guided his thick sausage into it gently. His former mouth having to voluntarily lower his jaw and widen its opening to allow it to enter. Hiram may have never done this back in his cis het days but Benito’s body was guiding him through it almost as if instinctual. The impossible size finally hitting the back of his throat where it continued to go down a little. Just as he was worried he may pass out a reprieve came as it slid out but not before it was quickly reintroduced. Benito began pounding his former throat as a devious grin wiped across his face. The satisfaction of humbling his former bully with his own tool was the cherry on top. This coupled with the preshow he gave was already a lot of jerking for this body. Premature to the fun he was having with his former self, he felt it. This had to be the climax. Benito relished the feeling as the warmth surrounded him, his core tightened and as he freaked out about what was coming, no pun intended, he released his hands from their exploration and placed both on the back of his former head and released down his throat. Pulse after pulse had him moaning and convulsing in pleasure. He forced Hiram to take the warm salty delight in stride.

“Oh hohohooooo yeah. Take itttttttunfhhhhhhhhh.”

After the moment was done, Benito pulled his softening yet still intimidating looking dick out of Hiram’s mouth. And as the twink stared up at his former face with a mix of fear and ferocity, Benito bent over and locked lips to give him the sluttiest make out for 30 seconds. Locked lips, tongues tied, bitten lips. Benito sauntered out of the shower before getting dressed.

He looked over at himself in the mirror…despite getting everything he thought he wanted something was gnawing at him….hmmm I need to be bigger…..need to hit the gym some more I’m looking small.

A haunting voice laughing in the distance knowing full well that just because Benito got a male body finally, he’ll never be able to outrun his own dissatisfaction with his perception of himself.

But Benito would sure try…

[trickorswitch]

Understanding Him Better

(Original story posted May 30th 2023) This story has been mildly Updated

Written for @bodyswappingandshit/@bodyswappingandshit-1 ❤️

Marcy stared out of her bedroom window, looking up at the clear night sky. Her college roommates had already gone to bed but she just couldn’t sleep. There was this boy on campus on campus she’d gained a huge crush on. Alex. He was every bit her type. A strong, muscular and smooth body that pushed against clothes he wore. Youthful, charming looks that left her dizzy. An air of confidence that was balanced out by a humble nature. He was her perfect man. Except she had no idea how to really approach him. Most of the interests he had didn’t really overlap with hers so she didn’t know how best to strike up a conversation. Not to mention she was incredibly nervous. Her friends had told her just to straight up ask him on a date but the last time she did that for a guy she liked she got rejected which made her terrified of trying again ever since.

And so as Marcy continued to admire the stars in the sky, she wished that she could understand Alex a little better. If she knew more about him and the kind of man that he was then she’d feel confident enough to speak to him. She voiced her wish out loud as her eyes traced the glimmering night sky with a longing for the man that’d captured her heart without even knowing.

Little did she know that as she finally slipped into bed, a certain magical entity had overheard her wish to the stars. Fortunately for her, he was more than willing to grant her wish but not in the way she would’ve imagined. As she drifted off to sleep, magic began flowing into Marcy’s body, changing her body and her life so that she might finally understand Alex.

The next morning Marcy woke up feeling incredibly groggy and… heavy? She stretched her arms a little and immediately she felt something was off. She blinked her eyes open and saw what was certainly not her bedroom! Not the bedroom she knew anyway. It was the same space with the same layout but it was like someone else entirely was living in it. Gone were all her clothes, her make up and most of her books. Instead there was what looked to be men’s clothes lying around along with an Xbox set up across the room. Her large book shelf had been replaced by a cabinet filled with a bunch of games and even more noticeable was the weights rack that sat next to it. Even the colour scheme of her room was different. Before it’d been bright red and white for the most part but now it was mostly black and navy blue. It was almost like a dude had been living in her room…

She sat up a little and immediately noticed the difference in her weight. It wasn’t just the tiredness that was making her feel heavy. Her body. Its size. Its shape. It was completely different! Her breasts were gone, replaced with pure muscle in the shape of strong pecs. Her once slender arms were now massive and even her hands were huge! And even from underneath the bed covers she could tell that her legs looked much bigger and bulkier as well with thighs that seemed to rub together helplessly. But that wasn’t the most concerning part. She could feel a strange bulge between her legs… it couldn’t be. Marcy didn’t want to believe what she was already but everything was pointing towards it.

She needed to see it for herself.

Jumping out of bed in a panic, she rushed out of her room and towards the bathroom, stumbling a little on the way due to her new weight and the unfamiliar package between her thighs. As soon as she made it however, she locked the door behind her and made a dash towards the mirror. What Marcy saw in that reflection took her breath away. Staring back at her in the mirror was a dude! But not just any dude, it was Alex! The very same gorgeous guy she’d had a crush on!!

“W-what the… How is this… I-I look like Alex!?” She said aloud though not quite believing it herself. But her reflection said it all. For a moment she just stood there in shock. Words caught in her throat as her mind tried to process what was happening. An odd sense of nausea washed over her as her eyes struggled to comprehend what they were seeing. But eventually she spoke up.

“I have h-his body… his muscles… and I’m standing in his underwear… a-and…” Before Marcy could continue she was cut off by an extremely odd feeling. One she’d never felt before. The feeling of blood rushing towards her groin to inflate an unfamiliar organ that she never thought she’d experience. Not like this anyway. She could see clearly in the reflection and as she looked down at herself that a tent was forming in her underwear, creating quite the obscene bulge. For the first time in her life she was experiencing what it was like to have a horny cock and she had no idea how to make it go down.

She reached down and poked at it experimentally. The sensation was so alien compared to what she was used to. The firmness of it pressed so hard against the constraints of the briefs she now had on. Yet still it sent shivers through her new masculine body. “Oh woah. That feels… weird.” Marcy muttered. Part of her was weirded out by the strange new appendage between her legs but at the same time she couldn’t help but be curious. After all, wasn't this Alex’s cock? The guy she’d been having dreams about for months. She’d been wondering what it would look like and well… now she could see for herself.

The former woman took a deep breath before hooking her thumbs under the waistband and pulling down the briefs, allowing her new cock to spring forwards in all its glory. She had to stifle a gasp as she watched it bob excitedly. It was just as amazing as she’d hoped it to be. “Never imagined I’d be seeing it from this angle.” She mumbled before reaching down and gently cupping her new musky balls for the first time. Feeling the odd heft that came with them along with an urge to protect them at all costs. Her hand then shifted back up towards her new shaft before gripping it, feeling the pleasure of a stimulated cock wash over her. “But I can’t say I don’t like it…” She added as she couldn’t stop herself from giving it a few tugs. “O-oh wow! That’s nice!” She only planned on giving it one or two tugs but it just felt so damn good she couldn’t help herself. “Oh god… is this why dudes are such horny freaks!? Mmmm…” She grunted, struggling to pull her hand away from her new manhood.

Marcy found herself turning back towards the mirror and continuing to admire her reflection. The reflection of her crush, now under her complete control. She had no idea how the hell it’d happened or how she’d feel about it afterwards but in this moment, as she jerked Alex’s cock like a horny beast, she couldn’t deny how hot it was. Running his rugged hand up and down his shaft, feeling the pleasure slowly ramp up until eventually it started to reach some kind of peak. The sensitivity had increased tenfold out of nowhere. Marcy’s eyes rolled for second until “F-fuck! Am I… cumming?” She wondered aloud, not knowing exactly what a male orgasm felt like. Her question was swiftly answered however by her new cock launching a wave of hot white cum all over the bathroom sink and mirror.

Throughout the strangely exhilarating experience, Marcy hadn’t noticed just how loud she was being with her grunting and groaning. She was only made aware when, mere moments after her first orgasm as man, there was a knock on the bathroom door. “Alex? You okay in there?” Came the voice of her best friend Kayla.

Marcy went silent for a moment before responding. “Oh uhmm… yeah I’m good. Just gimme a minute.” Marcy said awkwardly. Though she couldn’t help noticing how Kayla had called Alex’s name. Did everyone think she’d always been Alex? It was a crazy thought but it wasn’t any crazier than her having woken up in the body of a man.

She quickly got to work wiping up all the cum she’d sprayed across the bathroom, wiping down the surfaces with cleaning products just to make sure there was no trace. When she was done she unlocked the door and stepped out to find that Kayla must’ve retreated back to her room. Marcy took this as a chance to sneak back into her bedroom to figure things out. She peered down the apartment hallway, seeing that the coast was clear, before tip-toeing back to her room.

After closing her door, she whipped around and took another look around her bedroom. A real look this time. It certainly didn’t feel like hers anymore. Sports stuff dotted around the room. Boys clothes everywhere. Not to a certain musk in the air that she hadn’t clocked onto when she first woke up. A deep sweaty smell that her nose had frequently caught whiffs of from other college guys around the campus. Only now she was the culprit. Upon that realisation she lifted up one of her arms curiously before giving one of her armpits a sniff and what she was met with was a strong masculine stench that she never thought she’d smell on her own body. The kind of scent that really screamed that a guy was a total jock who frequently found himself in the gym or out on a field playing sports. Not an inaccurate description judging by her powerful new physique. Despite that she looked around frantically for something to cover up the smell and luckily as she unzipped a gym bag beside her bed, she found a can of deodorant inside. She didn’t waste a second spraying the contents onto her armpits in an effort to mask the smell.

Soon after Marcy found herself sitting on her bed, trying to evaluate her situation. She was surprisingly calm. Then again she’d always been a very logical and cool headed person. So instead of getting hysterical, she started to go over everything she knew so far. She went to sleep like normal and woke up with her crush’s body. She still lived in the same apartment with the same roommates but now those roommates believed she was Alex. She could only guess that meant everyone in her life probably thought she was and always had been Alex as well. Judging by her room she could also assume that most of, if not all, her personal possessions had been swapped out for whatever Alex had owned. Did this mean the real Alex had taken on her old female form? If so, was he aware of it like she was? That was something she’d need to investigate later. But one other thing she’d realised was that she seemed to retain her attraction to men. From what she knew Alex had been a straight guy and yet even with his body the thought of being with men still gave her butterflies.

“Fuck. This is gonna take some figuring out.” She sighed, looking down at her hands and body. Eyes lingering slightly on the bulge in her underwear. “Well… I’d always wondered what it was like being a guy…” She mumbled to herself, trying to make light of the insane situation she’d somehow found herself in.

Eventually Marcy found herself digging through the abundance of new clothes at her disposal until she found some stuff she was comfortable wearing. After which she looked in the mirror and smiled knowing she looked absolutely hot as fuck right now.

It was then she realised that she had absolutely no idea what the hell she was supposed to be doing today! Would she still be attending her fashion design classes from before despite probably sticking out like a sore thumb?? Just then however, as if prompted by her worries, some new memories began to surface. Memories of her attending fitness programmes and learning about all the different theories of exercise as well as the science behind the human body and its health. That must’ve been what Alex did! And she supposed it was what she’d have to be learning from now on… well assuming more knowledge would come to her it couldn’t be that hard right?

She stepped out of her bedroom and conversed with her friends a little. It was strange as none of them seemed to notice whatsoever. As if they’d always been friends and roommates with Alex. It was strange to say the least but it certainly made things a hell of a lot simpler. She sat and had breakfast, subconsciously making herself a bigger and more calorie rich meal than usual to fuel her bigger male body.

Soon enough she set off to college with her friends, splitting off to each of their different lessons upon arriving. Marcy instinctively made her way towards the sportier side of campus where all the jocks resided. Naturally she’d never really explored it before and yet she found herself navigating it perfectly.

Upon arriving at class, there were some other dudes that began talking to her which she quickly recognised as Alex’s buddies. She stumbled through the chit chat with them at first but it didn’t take long to get into talking about dude stuff that she’d never have been able to understand before. But their conversation was cut short when their lesson started.

The lesson was all about fitness and muscle theory as well as dieting and the human body in general. Almost all of the more complex stuff they were learning should’ve gone right over her head but now she was absorbing it like a sponge. Like she was recalling all stuff Alex had already learnt and applying it to the new information she was being given. It was a very strange experience to say the least she couldn’t say she didn’t like it. After all it seemed like Alex was one of the best students in the class and most people, the professor included, recognised that. It made her feel special and even a tad bit cocky considering she’d always felt mediocre in her fashion design course before.

By the end of the lesson Marcy left feeling more confident than ever with more of Alex’s memories rising to the surface. She puffed out her muscular chest with pride after saying bye to her new mates and began to ponder what she should do next. Usually she’d head home after college but something told her there was something else that needed to be done. Something else that her new body needed. That’s when it hit her. The gym. She had to workout if she wanted to keep Alex’s muscular and powerful body in shape.

Upon arriving at the gym Alex frequented however, Marcy couldn’t help but feel a slight nervousness rising up. She’d hardly ever lifted weights before and she didn’t have the slightest clue as to how half of the machines even worked. That said she decided to start with something simple and hope the memories would just come to her over time.

She’d decided on working legs today so she began with some simple body weight squats to get herself warmed up. As she did she couldn’t help but notice how much easier it was. Where before she would’ve been feeling a burn at about ten squats, now she could go at least to twenty before feeling it. She did a few sets until she felt sufficiently warmed up and even began to feel a small sweat before deciding to get on with the proper stuff. She placed her hands on her hips in a rather masculine stance as she peered around the room for her next exercise.

Just as Marcy had hoped, it was gradually starting to come to her now. A routine for bulking up her legs was beginning to form in her mind. Piecing itself together slowly. Next on the list was Bulgarian split squats but something told her she wasn’t going to enjoy them. Yet she found herself a bench and a couple weights before setting up. She got into position, grabbing the weights and placing one foot in front of her while resting the other foot on the bench behind. With that she began her first few reps and lord was her assumption right. Every decent she made felt almost hellish as both her legs and glutes lit up with a fire that was tough to push through. And after completing ten she had to switch to the other leg! It felt like torture but at the same time every set felt so satisfying to complete. Safe to say that by the end she already wanted to collapse while sweating buckets. But she still had plenty more exercises to go.

Thankfully the newfound drive to workout and grow bigger allowed her the willpower to forge on through the rest of her workout. New memories entered her mind one by one of different leg exercises, each of which she tried. She made sure to get plenty of glutes exercises in there as well as she’d always loved guys that had big muscular butts. She didn’t know if it was kink or not since not as many of her female friends seemed quite as obsessed with male butts as she’d always been. Just the sight of a big strong ass on a man had always driven her crazy. So much so that she couldn’t help but keep checking out her own one in the mirror every chance she got, loving how it strained against her tight gym attire.

Marcy continued to jump from exercise to exercise until her manly legs couldn’t take anymore punishment. She soon found herself more or less hobbling out of the gym but she couldn’t help feeling incredible regardless. This experience had given her a taste of how it felt to be powerful with the kind of strength jocks like Alex had. It was amazing!

One thing she couldn’t ignore however was her stench. After such and intense sweaty leg workout, it was only natural that her new body had gotten a little musky again. She supposed that was one of the downsides to being a dude. Though she had to admit, she wasn’t as repulsed by the smell as she had been this morning. Perhaps it was just her adjusting to it now but honestly it didn’t smell that bad. Regardless she knew other people would have a different opinion so she planned on jumping in the shower as soon as possible.

The very second Marcy walked in the door to her shared apartment, she had a one track mind heading towards the bathroom. Only stopping to quickly say hello to her roommates before locking herself in there and getting undressed.

She tossed her sweaty gym clothes into a pile on the floor before stretching in front of the mirror, her naked male body on full display. It was strange. There were so many subtle differences between this body and the female one she’d had for her whole life before this. The curvature of her waist was less accentuated yet her upper body was so much broader. Her hands and feet were much bigger which honestly she was still trying to adjust to a little. She’d been struggling to write on paper during college earlier today due to her meaty digits and she’d be embarrassed to admit how many times she’s caught her foot on things today. Another thing that she couldn’t help notice was the shape of butt. Of course she’d already known from how obsessed she was with male ass that they were shaped differently, anyone could see that, but it was still strangely incredible to see it on herself. She’d had plenty of time to admire it while at the gym but she couldn’t help inspecting it again now. Instead of the softer heart shape it had once adorned, her butt seemed much more sculpted. Less fat and more muscle. It even seemed a fair bit perkier than her old butt thanks to all the exercise it gets.

“Yo Alex! Are you getting a shower or what? You said you weren’t gonna be long!” Shouted her other roommate Jacob.

“Yeah sorry! Now getting in!” Marcy responded, quickly turning on the shower to prove as much.

As the steaming hot water flowed over her body, Marcy noticed that all of the shower products she’d bought before had vanished only to be replaced with men’s shampoo and men’s body wash instead. She shrugged, grabbing the shampoo and rubbing it into her now short hair. And as she washed it out minutes later, she knew it was time for the body wash. The new man squirted a generous amount of it into her hand before starting to lather herself up with it. Running the soapy liquid over her thick pecs and down her abdomen, smothering it across her thick bulging arms and massive shoulders. There was no way she could deny how amazing it felt to simply touch her new body. She’d always wanted to feel Alex’s muscles and now she could! Her hands continued to wander further south, lathering up her admittedly very hard cock before getting some more body wash to rub across her muscular ass cheeks. Something that should’ve been so simple and routine as getting a shower just felt so erotic now. Even running her hands down her thick powerful legs felt otherworldly.

Even after she’d rinsed all the soap off, she continued to run her hands all over her new body. Worshiping and groping it until she once again found herself gripping her new cock. When she’d awoken this morning, as enthralled as she was to be in the body of her crush, part of her had still hoped she’d find a way back to normal. But now, after really knowing how great it feels to be a strong muscular dude with a cock between her legs, she decided she’d much rather stay like this! Even if it meant having to constantly put up with the musky scent of being a dude from now on. This was just too good to give up!

Marcy continued guiding her hand up and down her shaft, this time making an effort to stifle her groans so her roommates wouldn’t hear. Loving how her new manhood pulsed eagerly in her hand. Just like before she could feel that slow rising pleasure start to build as her balls began to churn, getting ready for what was about to come. Her movements grew faster and more erratic, having to place one hand against the wall as her other hand went to town. Jerking her cock furiously until finally she shot Alex’s seed all over the shower walls…

She stepped out of the shower a few minutes later after having cleaned up her mess. Wrapping a towel around her waist before scooping up her clothes and heading back into her bedroom. As she finished getting dried, Marcy made her way over towards her bedroom window. The very same window at which she made her wish to understand Alex better. Now she could say for certain that she did. She dropped the towel to the floor, standing fully nude before the window once again, before making another wish. This time her only wish was that things could stay this way forever. That she could keep this muscular male body forever! To continue experiencing the life of a man. To explore the gay dating scene with other dudes. She wanted all of it! And luckily for Marcy, whatever had granted her wish the first time was more than happy to grant this one as well…

[trickorswitch]

Reason to: Date that Nerdy Girl

Of course not because your common interest in astrophysics or anything. As a matter of fact, you're not even into astrophysics, or girls. No, you're after her fucking DILF of a dad that you saw during the moving day on campus helping her to move her stuff into the dorm last year. You've been eyeing him ever since and dating her is a way to have access to that man. She didn't invite you to her home for Christmas last season, but she invited you to spend the summer together with her family after all this month. Well, guess the couple summer break needs to end now as you already have his DNA in your possession as you stole his dirty shirt from the laundry, you cannot wait to abuse his good looks and insanely thick muscle to plow some tight twink or submissive jock holes all summer long before starting the new term with renewed drive for another man to pose as during the long holiday break.

[trickorswitch]

It All Comes Out In The Wash

Happy Pride! Based on the poll results, y'all are torn between this story and Streamer to Streamer: Pride... so, I'll be posting both of them this month. The other story will be coming in a week or two, so stay tuned.

Whenever Theo Hastings had a rough day at work, there was nothing that could brighten up his spirits than some retail therapy. Although working in retail himself might have dissuaded him from stepping foot inside another retail establishment until his next shift, the 25-year-old stocker felt differently as it provided a much needed sense of relaxation. Without a manager hounding him to put things away at a breakneck speed 24/7, he now had the ability to roam aisles at his own pace and just waste time as cheery pop songs softly echoed from the shop’s speakers. Plus, there truly seemed to be nothing that could rival the thrill he felt of swiping his debit card and seeing “transaction approved” flash on the screen – not only due to his poor finances and the worry of getting rejected but getting to walk away with a bag full of items in tow.

So as Theo stood in front of the thrift store, whose weathered sign looked like it too had been thrifted, the man’s lips pulled back into a slight smile. With 30 minutes left to go still before his and his boyfriend’s to-go dinner order was ready at a restaurant inside the same plaza, he pushed aside the slight aching of his muscles and finally entered the shop.

Instantly, the man’s senses were assaulted by the atmosphere of the shop. Despite having a cozy style with the antiqued decor that surrounded the endless racks of clothing, the space was incredibly cluttered and the scent of mothballs so prominent that Theo could instantly feel the rumblings of a migraine begin to emerge. He refused to be deterred from his mission though, looking around and smiling before beginning to venture into the tight aisles of clothing.

Theo simply meandered through the aisles, his fingers unstoppable as they brushed against the various fabrics until he found something that spoke to him. Although he had nothing really in mind, the decision of stopping into the shop was due to his newfound desire to revitalize his wardrobe. After spending so much time in the same size since his college days, fraternity gear, khaki shorts, and Aeropostale had been all he had needed for the past few years. But as he found himself beginning to grow out of them due to the increased muscle mass occurring due to his physically-demanding job, Theo figured this would be the best way to freshen up his style without needing to pay hundreds of dollars.

Additionally, the man couldn’t deny that he was on a mission to find things that could potentially spice things up with Peter, his boyfriend of 5 years. Back in college, the duo had seemed like a couple pulled straight out of a fairy tale (or the fantasies of gay men everywhere) – a frat bro who fell in love with a meek, average-looking Engineering nerd. They had first met when Theo needed tutoring help with his courses, but those late-night study sessions soon divulged into drunken hangouts turned makeout sessions.

That time in their lives had been the source of many eventful and exciting days (and nights) together, but as the time since those days grew, the spontaneous and exciting days disappeared and were replaced with a comfortable routine. Part of this was due to their intense jobs, with Theo climbing the retail ladder slowly but surely as Peter was working every weekday at an engineering firm – leaving them both utterly exhausted by the time they got home to do anything more than cook dinner and watch TV together. But despite the sad state of their relationship currently, Theo wasn’t willing to give up just yet.

So as he browsed the shop, the man’s eyes darted around as he aimed to find any sort of attire that could potentially turn his boyfriend on and spice things in the bedroom via some roleplay. He had known that Peter had a bit of a thing for leather, so as his eyes landed on a sleek leather jacket, Theo thought that he had landed on the jackpot. He pulled it off the rack and admired it, noticing how the smooth, cool material was a stark contrast to his rough, calloused hands. "This could definitely work," he thought, slipping it on and feeling an immediate boost in confidence.

He continued to sift through the racks, picking out a few more pieces that caught his eye and made his horny mind imagine scenarios – a handmade pair of denim booty shorts, a vintage band t-shirt, and a chunky knitted sweater. As he looked at the items in his arms, he instantly imagined the scenarios required for him to wear such items: a classic stripper outfit that would work with his mesh neon crop top from one of their Pride festival forrays, a shirt to go with the leather jacket and create a domineering “daddy” image, and something that could go with his reading glasses and give his boyfriend another “nerd” to mess around with respectively.

With his arms full of potential new outfits, Theo headed to the dressing room. He closed the door behind him, the tiny space feeling even smaller with the pile of clothes he had accumulated. Upon taking off the leather jacket and setting it with the other clothes, the man finally began to undress down to his underwear. For a moment, Theo simply stared at his reflection – taking into account his current physique. Although his physique wasn’t as well-sculpted due to his intense days of working out and dieting back in college, it was clear that the man was still in solid shape. His gym regime had grown a bit lax due to his aforementioned tiredness from work, but luckily his job kept him quite active from lifting heavy boxes and putting items on shelves day in and day out. So even with the nagging restlessness and guilt that gnawed at him, the man wasn’t mad at all at what he saw in the mirror.

As he tried on the different items, Theo’s excitement only grew as he saw how well the items fit him. Although he had already tried on the jacket prior to arriving in the dressing room, he did it again after putting on the vintage band t-shirt, lifting up his arms and flexing to watch the thick leather curve around his solid biceps. Oh yeah, this would be great for Peter, he thought to himself, smirking as he felt a sense of excitement. This seemed like the right decision – something that would finally reignite the spark that life had dimmed between himself and his boyfriend.

With his boyfriend in mind and his excitement continuing to grow, Theo couldn’t resist pulling out his phone and taking a few pictures of himself in the mirror. He knew that Peter would love it, so why not give him a tease of what he had planned for him?

"Hey babe, what do you think?" Theo typed before attaching the photos. Right before he pressed on the send button, he hesitated for a moment before deciding to add something a bit more playful. “Thinking of wearing this tonight ;)”

He hit send and while waiting for a response, opted to continue trying on the rest of the clothes. A few minutes later while he was trying on the chunky knitted sweater, his phone buzzed. In an instant, Theo's heart skipped a beat, causing him to rush to his device to see his partner’s response. But as he clicked on the message and began to read it, his excitement quickly deflated.

"Looks good. Are you coming home soon with our dinner?"

Theo sighed, feeling a wave of frustration wash over him. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, his annoyance evident in his furrowed brow and stern expression. "That’s it? That’s all he had to say?!" he muttered to himself. He had hoped for something more: a flirty response or compliment… ANYTHING that would show Peter’s interest and continued attraction to him.

With his excitement deflated, Theo glumly began to undress and put his original clothes back on. What was the point in continuing when he couldn’t get his boyfriend to show any sort of interest? As he stuffed the clothing back onto their hangers and left them in the dressing room, the melancholic man was on the verge of tears while he made his way towards the entrance of the shop. He felt like an idiot for trying to spice things up just for his boyfriend to coldly reject his advances. In his mind,  the desperate man found himself wishing and praying endlessly to have that spark return to their relationship. All he wanted was a boyfriend that thirsted for him and made an effort. Was that really too much to ask?

With his mind set towards making a beeline towards the front door, Theo turned partially to the side before beginning to shimmy down the aisles – altering his stance to prevent his broad shoulders from ending up at odds with the congested aisles of clothing. Despite this, his fingers still once again began to graze against the fabric of countless outfits. As he did this, the man was suddenly feeling transfixed by the different consistencies that brushed against his fingertips – from the scratchy texture of old polo shirts to satin dress shirts.

But as the door was mere feet away, the retail employee stopped dead in his tracks as a sudden static shock hit his finger and caused his entire body to tingle. Upon gasping and shaking his hand in hopes of ridding it of its numb tingles, Theo turned in order to figure out what it was that shocked him. As his eyes lingered on the clothes rack and watched one article of clothing swaying back and forth on its hanger, he quickly pushed the other clothes to the side to give it a good inspection.

To Theo’s amusement, the item that awaited him was not one of significant monetary or aesthetic value – it was simply a used white undershirt. The concept of being shocked by the standard cotton fabric was quite amusing to the man, which caused him to reach out and begin to touch the fabric. But as soon as his fingers fully grasped onto the article of clothing, a sudden tingle coursed through his body. He suddenly froze, both hands still touching the fabric. Then, out of nowhere, a deep, resonant voice whispered in his ear.

“Buy the shirt, Theo. It will feel so good to wear it.”

Instantly, the man turned around wondering if someone was playing some bizarre joke on him. Unlike his own Midwestern accent, the voice that spoke to him seemed vastly different – sounding almost Middle-Eastern. Yet as he looked around for the culprit, he found himself alone in the cramped aisle. The voice had been so clear, so intense that it felt like it was whispered directly into his ear like a secret. Unsurprisingly, Theo hesitated for a moment, wondering if he was going crazy from a long day at work and just imagining things.

Theo’s hand trembled slightly as he lifted the shirt off the hook and continued to touch it. The fabric felt warm and inviting, almost as if it was calling out to him. He glanced around once more, his mind racing with questions. Was he going crazy? Was the voice real? If it was, why did it want him to buy it so badly?

Against his better judgment, Theo looked at the tag on the collar. Size XL, the same size he wore in all of his clothes. His fingers moved down the shirt until they found the price tag hanging – which revealed a price of only $3. Feeling oddly intrigued by the item, Theo draped the undershirt over his arm and walked to the checkout counter. He could feel the weight of the mysterious voice's command with every step.

As the cashier rang up the purchase, Theo’s mind buzzed with anticipation and a hint of fear. He had no idea what awaited him (if anything) once he put on the shirt, but something deep inside urged him to obey the voice's words. Upon handing over $3 and some change, the man reasoned that it was a worthy purchase no matter what. Even if he had simply imagined a voice and the shirt was nothing more than a piece of fabric, the item would still find a use for the man due to his innate desires to get back into the gym. With a second-hand shirt like this, he could feel no shame drenching it in immense levels of sweat as it found a new purpose.

Once he was handed a receipt, the man gave a slight nod before exiting the thrift shop. With each step Theo made towards his car, he found himself slowly being broken out of the intense spell that clouded his mind. Although he still had an innate desire to wear the shirt gnawing deep within him, the man’s slight germaphobia returned to remind him of the dangers of wearing second-hand attire. There could be countless types of bacteria or scents associated with the item, so as he headed towards the restaurant to pick up food, he reasoned the best way to quell his concerns was to put it in the laundry first. Then, once it was perfectly clean and ready to be worn, he’d put it on and figure out what would happen once it was finally on his muscular physique…

* * * * *

Despite being a highly affectionate and needy individual, Peter Thompson was relieved to wake up alone on Saturday morning. As he got up and made his way into the bathroom to relieve himself, the nerdy man yawned and thought mournfully about the previous night’s events. The status of his relationship with his boyfriend Theo had been feeling increasingly rocky over the past few months, but nothing compared to the explosive argument that occurred that evening. Upon arriving home with the couple’s food in hand (along with a small bag from a nearby thrift shop), Theo’s eyes stared daggers into Peter’s soul as they sat at the table across from each other in silence. It was clear that the nerd had done something to upset the man, but he had no idea what it could be.

Upon bringing the intense stares and wondering what he had done to upset his boyfriend, Peter sat in awe as his boyfriend instantly snapped and began complaining about their relationship. Instead of being loving and affectionate partners, the handsome muscular man coldly stated that they felt more like roommates who just happened to share a bed. Although Peter loved to view things with rose-colored glasses, he wasn’t oblivious to their evolving relationship as it became less and less sexually or emotionally intimate. He had become completely consumed by his projects at his engineering firm, which left him feeling like a shell of himself by the time he got home.

As Peter attempted to explain this away and state that was just how relationships evolve over time, Theo grew increasingly frustrated at the young man’s apparent complacency. From there, the civilized dinner devolved into a screaming match that ended with Theo and Peter both staying on opposite ends of the apartment and wondering whether this relationship was something they still wanted to fight for. Despite Peter’s apparent laissez-faire attitude, the notion of disappointing his boyfriend so severely gnawed at him and left him with a deep pit in his stomach. He felt incredibly upset and desperate to figure it out, but opted to just give them both the remainder of the night to cool down before engaging again.

Upon finishing both his trip to the bathroom and journey through the previous night’s events, Peter returned to the bedroom and checked his phone. It was there that he saw a text waiting for him from his boyfriend.

Theo: Went into work early, needed more time apart. Let’s talk once I’m home. Love you

Instantly, Peter’s heart broke as he read the last part of the man’s message – mourning for the usual blue heart emoji that was intentionally kept from signing off the text. It hurt him intensely to imagine the fallout of their relationship ending, wondering how living together for the remainder of the lease would work and how their shared friend group would be shattered as the friends were undoubtedly forced to choose sides. It was too much to think about, so he opted to find something to distract himself.

As he looked at some of the couples’ clothes strewn across the floor, the concept of doing some laundry sounded like a good way to take his mind off of things. He could start a load before going to make some breakfast, then switch from the washer and dryer as he opted to clean more of the apartment to try and forget about the soul-crushing fight.

He grabbed onto the various articles of clothing and began to make his way towards the bathroom, stopping himself from throwing the items into the laundry basket upon seeing Theo’s plastic bag from the previous night resting atop of the other clothes already there. Using one arm to grab the bag out, Peter then used the other to dump the other clothes into the basket. As he used both hands to finally pull open the bag, the man was confused to find that his boyfriend’s thrifting haul was solely composed of a used white undershirt.

He reached down to pull it out of the bag, nearly losing control as his fingers grazed against the fabric and caused a full-body chill to travel down his spine. Upon rolling his shoulders and attempting to get ahold of himself, Peter then reached in and pulled the item out and watched the loose bag hover down to the floor.

For a moment, the man simply observed the piece of clothing – noticing its slightly worn quality but finding no noticeable stains or tears. Overall, it looked like a normal piece of clothing – at least it did until the Middle Eastern voice began to speak to him.

“Yes, that’s right, Peter. It feels good, doesn’t it? Put it on.”

As the deep husky accented voice echoed through his mind, Peter froze as his heart began to race. He looked around the bathroom, half expecting to see someone standing there but finding himself completely alone. While Peter gasped and attempted to compose himself, the voice persisted as it spoke incredibly calm yet commanding.

“Peter, put it on. You must!”

Peter shook his head, trying to clear the fog of confusion that plagued his mind. "What’s going on? Who are you?" he whispered, feeling somewhat foolish for talking to what seemed like thin air.

"My name is Fadelellah," the voice replied. "I don’t know how else to say this, so I’ll come right out with it. I’m dead – I’ve been dead since 1994. For decades, I have been trapped in this shirt. Now please, put on the shirt and help me. I’m begging you!”

Peter hesitated, his rational mind at war with his innate curiosity about this bizarre trick being plagued on him. This had to be some kind of joke, it was either Theo playing some sort of trick on him or he was on the verge of a mental breakdown in the aftermath of their fight. Yet no matter how desperate he was to find a logical reason behind the mysterious voice, he had no way of explaining away how realistic the voice sounded to him. Not only did it sound so real, but the young man couldn’t help but notice the tone of desperation that coated the ominous words.

"Why should I? I have no idea who you are! Hell, I don’t even know if this is real or I’m just having a goddamn breakdown" Peter exclaimed, his voice trembling.

“Believe me Peter, I’m completely real,” Fadelellah said, “I’ve been replaying my death on a loop for decades, waiting for an opportunity for a second chance. I think that could be you…”

In response, a shiver coursed down the man’s spine as he tried to imagine such a cruel fate – not only trapped as an inanimate object but forced to recall his final moments nonstop. “But, why do you think I’m the one who can help you? How am I supposed to help?”

“I’ve been waiting for someone like you – someone who struggles with their life and wishes for something better. What if I told you that I could fix all of that? All you need to do is let me share a body with you and we’ll be unstoppable. All you have to do is put the shirt on.”

For a moment Peter hesitated, unwilling to make a decision as he attempted to comprehend what was being said to him. This random man wanted to share his body with him? That sounded like a horrible idea. Plus, how was he supposed to trust that this wasn’t some trick that would cause him to become a passenger of his own body? Hell, he couldn’t help but think about Theo as well – wondering about how a relationship would work with him having to deal with a boyfriend that had two souls sharing control. What if this Fadelellah guy was straight and tried to break him up with Theo?

As if the spirit was reading his thoughts, the disembodied voice spoke once more in hopes of squashing his fears. “Do not worry my friend, I know it sounds scary, but I promise it will be nice for the both of us. You know, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I overheard the argument you and Theo had last night. What if I told you I could fix that? When Theo first touched me in the thrift shop, I was able to tap in and learn everything about him. With my assistance, we could fix your relationship and make it so neither of you are ever unhappy again. Peter, I’m more than willing to do all of that to pay you back for helping me… all you have to do to make that happen is put the shirt on…”

Against his better judgment, Peter instantly found himself tearing off his own shirt. Although he still didn’t believe that this was really happening, there was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to fix things with Theo. He loved that man more than anything in the world, so if this random spirit said he could fix their relationship, he was more than willing to give it a shot!

As he slipped the undershirt over his head, Peter was stunned by how it was cool to the touch. Given his bigger status as a pudgier nerdy type, the fabric wasn’t baggy in the slightest – instead instantly grazing along his skin as he pulled it further down his body. By the time the shirt was fully covered over his torso, the man’s spine felt completely numb from the intensity of the cold shivers that throbbed.

After this sensation dissipated though, the man waited in hopes of Fadelellah’s voice returning and helping him fix his relationship. Yet for what felt like an eternity – nothing happened. Just as he was about to abandon hope and consider checking himself into a psychiatric facility, a warm sensation suddenly invaded his body. The sensation localized in his chest as it then began to radiate outwards towards his limbs and head.

"Thank you, Peter," Fadelellah's voice said, his desperate and somber tone now replaced with one of pure elation. "Now, I can begin to live again!"

Peter's heart pounded in his chest as the warm sensation intensified, transforming into a tingling that spread to every corner of his body. He felt like he was on the verge of having a heart attack, which caused him to look down in horror. Upon doing so, the man watched as something unbelievable happened – weight began to melt off of his frame. By the second, pieces of flab were evaporating from his form to remove his slightly pudgy belly and the modest flab that softly filled out his average frame.

Despite loving the concept of losing weight, the shock of transforming caused the man to freak out. As a result, the man’s hands went haywire as they tried to move towards the bottom of the shirt and pull it off. Yet although he could move his hands around, it felt like there was an invisible block preventing him from grabbing or touching the shirt.

Instantly, panic set in as he realized he was already losing total control of his body.

"What are you doing to me? Why can’t I take the shirt off?! Please, I changed my mind. I don't want this!" Peter cried out, his voice echoing through the walls of the couple’s average-sized bathroom.

"Do not worry, Peter," Fadelellah's voice replied, his tone coming across soothing like a concerned parent comforting their child. "This was just a precaution while our souls merged. Believe me, this is a gift. Embrace it. You’ll soon realize how much you’ll enjoy the change."

Perfectly timed, Fadelellah’s words led into the next stage of the man’s transformation. Peter’s body began to behave like a balloon as his newly frail frame began to slowly inflate. Muscles swelled beneath the skin, causing his arms and chest to quickly begin to thicken with newfound strength. As he looked down in disbelief, the man observed how a solid pair of pecs now jutted out against the tight undershirt while his biceps bulged against his widening obliques. The man’s jaw dropped as he watched the emergence of cobblestone abs emerge against the tight fabric of his shirt. It was absolutely insane to believe that he was transforming into a muscular man whose physique rivaled that of his boyfriend’s.

In response, Fadelellah let out a deep chuckle as he could feel his shared body’s face contort. "See? Isn't this better?" he cooed. "You are strong and that’s just the start. By the time we’re done combining, you’re going to be so handsome you won’t be afraid to look in the mirror. Now, take a moment to explore those new muscles of yours."

Once again, Peter found his body suddenly betraying him as his arms began to obey Fadelellah’s order. So despite wanting so badly to use those hands to pull up on his shirt and get a reprieve from the shirt’s influence, his hands instead began to feel up on his new musculature. As such, his senses allowed him to feel the well-defined ridges of his cobblestone abdominal muscles – a surprisingly pleasurable shiver coursing through his body as he compared that sensation to the pitiful pudge that his fingers usually grazed.

Despite his initial terror wanting him to resist the changes, Fadelellah’s words echoing through his brain caused Peter to re-evaluate his position. Was there really a problem here? He was becoming absolutely massive with muscles he could only dream of having! Opting to actually give these changes a shot, he decided to take control of his hands to finally marvel at his transformation thus far. He felt powerful for the first time in his life, no doubt due to his body now suddenly brimming with intense energy and vitality. He looked down at his new physique, awkwardly lifting up his arm and trying to tense the muscle. In response to finally getting it right, the man looked gobsmacked by the tense muscle that bulged to a size of a softball.

This initial sight was instantly intoxicating to the man, which caused him to explore more of his increased physique. He struggled for a moment but eventually was able to pop his pecs, stifling a chuckle as he bounced between each pectoral and established a rhythm. His hands wandered down the strip of sculpted abdominal muscles for a moment before reaching behind to his derriere. As the bottom in the relationship, Peter was curious to see how his ass fared during the changes. Upon realizing the globe-like shape of each plump yet firm ass cheek, the man’s boner (which had silently lengthened to become nearly 8 inches) rushed from a semi to a fully erect one while envisioning all of the fun he could have with Theo.

As he continued to look down at himself though, Peter soon came to realize that his body was still transforming. Instead of his pasty white complexion, his skin was quickly darkening to a more tanned hue. Initially this seemed to not be a problem, but as the color began to shift to a more olive-like shade, alarm bells began to ring as he realized that he wasn’t just getting tan… he was changing ethnicities.

“Wha- what’s happening to me?” Peter cried out, his eyes bulging out as he heard his voice beginning to deepen. “Oh– my v-voice,” he continued, the accent sounding oddly familiar for a moment until he realized why they sounded familiar – it was the same voice coming out of his mouth that he heard Fadelellah speaking in his mind.

“Do not worry,” Fadelellah began, his voice returning to his more condescending coddling tone. “The fates have just decided that we are meant to become Middle-Eastern like I once was. It will be great though, you’ll see! Since we’re together as one in this body, you’ll be able to read the Qur’an and speak Arabic like a pro. I can’t wait to share that with you!”

Peter's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He wanted to resist, to fight back against what was happening to him, but the allure of his new body and the perks it provided was overwhelming. He could feel Fadelellah's presence growing stronger, his control slipping away the more his body molded to accommodate its newest inhabitant.

As a tingle began to emerge across his entire head, Peter instantly pulled his head up to direct his attention to the bathroom mirror. Upon doing so, the man was left with no other choice but to watch as his facial features began to shift. In addition to taking on a more angular, chiseled appearance. He watched in awe as his eye shape altered – shifting from a more wide, bug-eyed appearance as the eyes sunk into a more rectangular-shaped socket. For years the man had been ridiculed for his prominent nose, but that soon became a thing of the past as it shrank and straightened to gain a more masculine appearance.

Peter watched in awe as his jawline began to crack and contort away from its former round shape – giving way to stubble that started to push out and cover his altered cheeks. But rather than the average light brown hair that resided on his head, this hair was a stark jet black that helped frame his cheeks and lips as a pencil-thin mustache wrapped around his plump lips. Once this facial hair traversed up into his sideburns, it caused a domino-like effect as every hair on his scalp then slowly shifted to match the same shade that adorned his cheeks and eyebrows until his transformation into a Middle-Eastern man was complete.

With the gravity of the changes fully hitting Peter, the man was growing incredibly desperate and scared. Although the visage that he now sported was absolutely an improvement over his former one, it was the biggest reminder of the fact that every morsel of his past self had been altered and erased. At this point, it was beginning to feel more like Fadelellah’s body rather than a shared one!

“Please, I don’t like this,” Peter begged, his voice coming out a meek whimper that would have barely registered had Fadelellah not begun sharing the same brain. “I don’t want to lose myself, this isn’t me!”

In response, a devious chuckle came from Fadelellah as he revealed his true intention. “Exactly Peter, this isn’t you… not anymore,” he said, his voice now beginning to sound relatively confident and cocky. “Instead, you’ll still be here, just tucked deep down within me. Your body was just the base I needed to come back and get a second chance. But don’t beat yourself up about it, just find comfort in the fact that I’ve turned you into something greater than you could possibly imagine.”

Despite his fear and desperation about his situation, Peter found his resolve wavering more by the second. The idea of his body being able to provide for Theo, to be the strong, confident partner Peter had always wanted to be, was tempting – even if it meant he wasn’t in control anymore. Maybe this was a chance for a new beginning, a way to reignite the spark in their relationship. It was clear that he was on the verge of destroying the relationship as it currently stood, so maybe it was better if someone else got to fix his mistakes…

"Promise me," Peter said, his voice now barely audible as he receded further within himself. "Promise me you'll take care of him."

“Of course,” Fadelellah replied. “Please do not worry, I will take care of both your body and Theo. Every day, I will cherish him like you once did. I know how important he is to you, so it’s the least I can do to repay you. Now, it’s time to let go Peter, I’m finally ready to live again.”

With one final deep breath, Peter obeyed the man’s words and surrendered. He felt himself fading, his consciousness slipping away as Fadelellah's presence filled the void. The last thing he heard was the man’s voice, being gentle and reassuring as he led his savior into a peaceful slumber.

As Peter's mind dissolved into darkness, Fadelellah gained complete control of a human body for the first time in 30 years. For several minutes the man stretched, relishing the concept of having limbs and a human body again after finally escaping his fabric prison. Despite being away from humanity for such a long time, he was able to peel his shirt off and navigate his new physique with no problem. With a smile on his face, Fadelellah lifted up his arm and flashed a wide smile.

“Damn, it is great to be alive again,” Fadelellah said to himself. “That went much easier than I expected, I almost feel bad for the dude. But hey, he chose this and I’m certainly not wishing to go back to being a shitty shirt!” the man chuckled to himself.

As he moved his hands down to his crotch, Fadelellah smirked as he tapped into Peter’s memories and was able to finally visualize the man who was almost his host body. Although Theo’s muscular and handsome body would have meant a quicker transition for the man to take over, the concept of inheriting a boyfriend to help welcome him back into the land of the living and adapt to modern-day living was a much more desirable outcome. Surely with a body like this replacing Peter, Fadelellah was sure that his new boyfriend wasn’t going to resist such a change.

With his mind continuing to envision Theo and all of the fun they’d have together, Fadelellah slipped his hand beneath his shorts and prepared to do something he’d been dreaming about for decades…

* * * * *

It had been three months since the fateful night in which Theo and his boyfriend had gotten into a huge fight, which had led to many unintended yet welcomed changes for the couple. Of course, Theo was initially hoping that their argument would lead to Peter just starting to put more effort into being romantic… so one could imagine his excitement when he came home from work the next day to find a candle-lit dinner awaiting him. However, that excitement turned to full-blown confusion when he found a random well-dressed Middle-Eastern man waiting for him instead of his dorky Caucasian boyfriend.

On paper, it certainly would have sounded ludicrous to believe that a simple used undershirt would transform someone not only in terms of physique but also ethnicity. However, given the fact that Theo himself knew about the mystical properties of the shirt due to the whispers that encouraged him to buy the item and try it on, it didn’t seem far-fetched at all.

Despite this, it was still a bit awkward and uncomfortable initially for Theo to find himself suddenly sharing a bed and apartment with a total stranger. But as time went on and the man realized how Fadelellah was able to instantly do things the way that Theo liked (ranging from the way he liked his food cooked to how sex in the bedroom went), this awkwardness dissipated quickly.

When it came to adapting to his new relationship, the only thing that kept Theo up at night was the knowledge that Peter had ultimately sacrificed his body to fix things in their relationship. It occasionally kept him up at night, wondering if Peter was still there in his former body deep down getting to see and realize just how happy he was. He certainly hoped that it was possible, as the concept of his former boyfriend being completely unaware of how things are going and forever thinking that Theo hated him was something that would forever haunt him. Fadelellah promised that Peter was down there deep down and able to see and feel all of the things he did, but Theo often wondered if that was just something that his new boyfriend told him to provide some sense of comfort.

Regardless of his concerns about Peter, Theo was relieved to find how great life was like now that Fadelellah was around. It was quite humorous at first helping teach the man how technology and society as a whole had progressed since his initial death in the ‘90s. Cell phones often transfixed the man, causing him to spend hours in awe learning about how he was able to watch movies, play games, and listen to music all from a small device in his hands.

Initially, a big question mark emerged for both men in terms of how they would be able to explain how a normal nerdy engineer was magically replaced by a Middle-Eastern hunk. However, the universe seemed to help remedy that problem for them as over the course of a week, reality slowly altered to where Peter was fully erased from reality and Fadelellah was put in his place.

Given the fact that the man was still struggling to adapt to his life in the modern era, his position as an engineer was certainly not befitting the new many anymore. As a result, the memories of all of Peter’s friends, family, and co-workers all altered to where Fadelellah was adopted by Peter’s parents and he went to college in hopes of getting a business degree. It was at college where Fadelellah and Theo first met – although the couple’s original meeting of tutoring sessions was now changed to both of them pledging for the school’s fraternity and bonding over the intense hazing process.

After graduating college, Fadelellah’s new career ultimately revealed itself to be as a personal trainer for a nearby gym. In time, the man had aspirations of opening his own gym, but until he had accumulated enough money to afford that along with finally adapting to life in 2025, he was happy to just stay where he currently was.

This career also turned out to become beneficial to Theo as well – as he was able to get a discounted membership due to his boyfriend’s employment. In addition, the couple would often spend hours in the gym working out together after Fadelellah finished his sessions for the day. It was something that Theo hadn’t initially expected to desire as much as he did. He remembered always inviting Peter to come to the gym with him, but he didn’t think it was a big deal when his boyfriend at the time rejected the offer to instead work on homework or any of the projects at his job. Yet now that he had Fadelellah with him to do these workouts with, he realized just how much he loved it (not only the workouts themselves but the flirtatious things Fadelellah did throughout like flaunting his abs or slapping Theo’s ass between sets). Consequently, that often led to the couple having some intense fun in the locker room after hours.

Given their kinky and happy lives together, it wasn’t a surprise for either man to admit just how much they appreciated Peter’s sacrifice. It was truly a selfless thing for him to do, and for that both men would be forever grateful. Yet despite feeling forever indebted to the man for what he did, neither Theo or Fadelellah opted to think much about the other man. Instead, they were too focused on living their lives to the fullest and enjoying each other’s company… especially in the bedroom!

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