zzwezz

[zzwezz]

What You Deserve

You’ve been out since sunrise, clipboard in one hand, iced oat milk latte in the other, your Converse squishing from the surprise rain earlier. Your “Yes on Prop K” shirt is soaked through, hugging your small paunch like a passive-aggressive lover. You smile through it all. You're good at that. Canvassing in the heat of election season, walking door to door in neighborhoods that still make passive jokes about Obama’s middle name, and fielding polite hostility with the same breezy empathy you’ve practiced since Oberlin.

You don’t mind the slurs. Or the eye-rolls. Or when they mutter “faggot” under their breath like a prayer.

You’re doing important work. Civil. Queer. Progressive. Real.

Today’s a little different though. There’s an edge to your stride. You're up for a promotion. Regional lead. More volunteers to manage, bigger strategy to oversee. And today’s the last push to prove you’ve got what it takes.

You approach the stone house at the end of the cul-de-sac. There's a weird buzz in the air, like static. You chalk it up to exhaustion and step up to the door.

But before you can knock, a voice interrupts.

“You know, no one gives a fuck what you're selling.”

You turn. She’s leaning against a Mercedes, all fake tan and highlighter, blonde waves tight as her black crop top. Maybe 22. Her arms crossed, her mouth cocked into a cruel, bored smile.

“I’m sorry?” you ask.

She steps forward. Her voice is too sweet.

“You walk around thinking you’re better than everyone. With your little cause. Your little identity. I bet you think you matter, huh?”

You blink. “I’m canvassing for—”

“I know exactly what you’re doing.” She moves closer. Her perfume is acrid, synthetic. “And people like you always get what’s coming.”

You chuckle, uncertain. “O…kay?”

Then she whispers something under her breath—just a string of syllables you don’t recognize. Your ears pop. There’s a faint shimmer in the air. Your stomach flips.

“What did you just say?”

She winks.

“Enjoy your new self, babe.”

And just like that, she’s gone—car purring to life and vanishing around the corner, like she was never real.

Your mouth’s dry. You shake your head and turn back to the house. Maybe skip this one.

But when you look down, your shirt's tighter than before. Your arms… are too tan. And where did all this hair come from on your wrists?

You walk back to the sidewalk, confused, stumbling a little. There's an itch under your skin. Not on it—under it.

You scratch your chest, and freeze. Your pecs. They're meatier. Bulkier. Too firm.

You blink. No. No, no, no.

You’re panting now. Your heart hammering. Your lanyard feels like a noose around your neck. You tug at it, and—

“Fuck, bro, this thing’s tight.”

The voice doesn’t sound like yours. You clap a hand to your throat.

Thicker. Rougher. Lazier.

And that’s when the panic begins.

You stagger toward a reflective window and catch a glimpse of your face. No, not your face. Not entirely.

You’ve grown younger—at least ten years. Your skin is darkening—bronzed, Middle Eastern, smooth except for a hint of stubble already teasing your cheeks. Your nose has changed—more prominent. Your hair’s darker now, slicked back with the oily effortlessness of rich kids who’ve never worked a real day in their life.

You stare. You whisper: “This isn’t me.”

But the reflection grins.

“Fuck yeah it is, bro.”

You clutch your temples. Your fingers trace your earrings—wait. Gone. Replaced by chunky black studs. Your “Say Gay” bracelet? Gone. Now it’s a gold-plated Rolex knockoff. You’re wearing a tight Armani Exchange tee—two sizes too small—framing a body that’s growing harder, leaner, more athletic with every breath.

You try to focus. Try to remember. Who you are. What matters. But the thoughts are sliding, slipping.

Like:

Why vote when you can flex?

Why fight when you can fuck?

And holy shit, that girl earlier—those tits. Bruh. You’d wreck that.

You stumble into a gas station bathroom to collect yourself, slamming the door shut, and staring into the mirror again.

You look like some spoiled Dubai club rat who failed out of three American universities and thinks Andrew Tate has "some good points."

A faint layer of cologne you didn’t put on coats your skin. It’s musky. Cheap. Aggressively heterosexual.

You pant. You sweat. You reach for your phone—

Contacts loading...

Every name you recognize is gone. Your calendar’s full of gym appointments, club reservations, flights to places you’ve never been with names like "Samir" and "Rafiq" and "Zayad."

And your background?

It’s you, shirtless, flexing abs in front of a mirror with a caption: “Only thing I vote for is pussy. 🇸🇦💸😎”

You scream. But it’s hoarse. Arrogant. Not your scream.

You feel your brows thicken. Your jawline sharpen. Your belly flattens completely—replaced with a toned set of abs that make you want to lift your shirt and admire yourself.

You do.

You smirk.

“Fuuuuck, lookin’ fine today, bro.”

You slam your head into the wall. Focus. Focus. You’re not this person.

But it’s getting harder to remember who you were.

Your name? You think it started with an L. Or an M? Or—wait, wait—

No. Your name is Malik now. Malik fucking Kareem. Born in Qatar. Moved to SoCal at 19. Son of a gas tycoon. You tell people you “hustle crypto” even though you don’t understand how it works.

You know this is wrong. But you also know... you’re meeting some chick named Brielle in 20 minutes. And her Instagram? Bro.

Your dick stirs in your jeans. Your Calvin Klein boxer briefs cling to your junk, your phone buzzes—

Brielle: u better not flake again or I’m sucking ur boy off instead 😘

You grin, dumbly.

“Bitch loves me.”

You barely remember who you were five hours ago.

You remember the cause. Sort of. Something about... gay stuff?

You snort.

“Gay shit’s cringe, bro.”

You grab your shades. Flex your abs in the mirror again. Wink.

Then you head to the Mercedes parked out front. Not hers.

Yours.

You rev the engine of your matte black Mercedes, the leather seat cradling your sculpted ass like it was hand-stitched by God Himself. Your fingers tap against the wheel—tattooed now. Not meaningful tattoos. Just abstract tribal shit that you think looks “hard.” There’s a Quran app open on your dash. Not because you read it. You just like how it makes girls think you're “disciplined.”

You park outside the rooftop hookah bar. It’s not even open yet. Doesn’t matter. You know the owner. His dad owes your dad money. You do this shit all the time.

As you step out, your reflection winks back from the tinted glass. Broad chest under your Louis Vuitton tank, thighs thick and snug in your too-skinny jeans. Your hair is perfect—greased and sharp, the product strong enough to blind someone.

Your face? God-tier smug. Chiseled. Lazy. Tan.

Brielle’s waiting already, crossed legs, long fake nails tapping on her vape. She's hot. In the exact way every girl you bang is hot—identical contouring, giant lips, waist trainer lines pressed into her spray-tanned skin.

“Sorry I’m late, habibti,” you say, smirking as you spread your arms. “Traffic was a bitch.”

“Mmhm. You better make it up to me,” she purrs, standing to let your hand slide down her ass as she turns.

You don’t even try to hide your erection. You never do anymore. And honestly, you kind of like the attention when other people notice.

As you settle into the booth, she starts talking—something about an influencer trip, or whatever—and you just nod, half-listening while scrolling through TikTok. Half your For You Page is Islamophobes getting “owned” in debates (you like feeling morally superior), and the other half is gym thirst traps and “alpha male” podcast clips.

“Fucking facts,” you mutter, mouth full of mint cloud, as a clip plays:

“A real man don’t apologize unless it's to God or his future son for knocking up some hoe.”

You nod. You repost it.

You don’t think. You consume. Mimic. Flex. Move from one dopamine hit to the next. You used to question things. That’s gone now. Thinking’s for liberals and soyboys.

Your phone vibrates again.

“You still coming to the prayer group tonight? My uncle’s speaking.”

It’s from Zakir—your boy from the mosque. You barely understand what they talk about there, but the vibes are masculine, rigid, and they respect you. Especially since you started posting those bullshit “spiritual discipline” reels, all edited to epic music with captions like “REAL MEN SUBMIT TO GOD.”

You type:

“Inshallah bro. Might be late, gettin my D sucked lol 😎🙏”

Brielle tucks her foot against your leg. You smirk down at her. You barely remember her name, but her lashes are expensive and she smells like sex and daddy issues. She’s perfect.

You unzip your fly beneath the table just enough to show her you’re hard.

“Want dessert before dinner, babe?” you growl.

She bites her lip.

You pull your phone out and snap a pic of her head in your lap, captioning it: “Alhamdulillah. Allah provides.”

You post it to your private story. Only your “real ones” see it.

Later, you're driving home. Windows down. Shirt off. One arm dangling lazily out the window, the other gripping the wheel. A fresh hickey blossoms across your pec, and your abs are glistening with sweat. You flex at every stoplight.

Your phone buzzes again—someone sending you an old photo.

You open it.

It’s... you.

You. From before.

Pale, soft, tired eyes, tote bag on your shoulder. You’re at a climate protest, holding a sign that reads Trans Rights Are Human Rights. You're smiling in that earnest, vulnerable, genuine way.

You stare at it. For a moment, your stomach turns.

Something... wrong. Like a ghost walking over your grave.

You grip the wheel tighter. Sweat beads down your temples.

What... was that?

Your head throbs. You blink hard.

And then it fades.

“Fucking faggots, man,” you mutter.

You delete the photo.

Throw your head back.

Laugh.

And blast Travis Scott on the stereo as you floor it through the red.

You don’t remember who sent it. Or what it meant. You don’t remember the cause. Or the protest. You don’t even remember your old name.

All that’s left is Malik Kareem.

And Malik?

Malik fucks.

[zzwezz]

"Oh, sweetie, you really like your new suit, don't you!"...

[zzwezz]

Simply-Driven

Part 2

Thanks to the splendid @sjw-publishings

Find Part 1 here!

Obviously, sharing a meal with his roommate and all the neighborhood dads had been a mistake. Actually, if Mickey Hockley fully considered it, coming to this festival had been a mistake. He didn’t fit in at all with anyone in the neighborhood. All identical to one another in their painfully average, simply-driven ways. In fact, Mickey couldn’t even explain how he had ended up rooming with the walking-Asian-American-dad stereotype in the first place. But there was one thing for certain: he was regretting it.

Luckily, the festival had finally come to an end and all the fathers were heading back to their quaint, stepford neighborhood. It took a bit for Mickey to drag Joel Huang out of a conversation around sports and jorts (a favorite among these men), but eventually they had hopped into the sedan and were on their way home. Once Mickey got back, he planned on hiding in his room for the rest of the night, maybe even bagging a twink if he was lucky.

“You’re awfully quiet back there, kiddo,” Joel chuckled from the front. Ever since Mickey had moved in, Joel and his wife had always referred to him as “their kid”. Mickey took it offensively every time.

“Tired, I guess,” Mickey blew off, feeling a little angst.

Joel looked through the rearview mirror and tried to meet eyes with the younger man. “Son, you should get a haircut.”

Mickey frowned, meeting the older man’s eyes. Why did Joel suddenly have an opinion on his brown wolf cut? He’d had it for a few years now after all. 

“No Joel, I like my hair this way.”

A slight breeze went across the back of Mickey’s neck, causing him to shiver a bit.

“Well, Asian-American men look nicer with shorter hair.”

“I…umm…” Mickey was at a loss for words, deviant of his usual quick nature. He rubbed a hand behind his head subconsciously, feeling the short follicles tickle his fingertips like a cheap rug.

Joel’s tone grew a little more stern. “It needs to be short.”

“It is short, mister!” Mickey shot back, surprised to hear himself add a title.

“Short as your good ol’ man’s?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. That was another thing, Joel always wanted Mickey to follow in his footsteps. His plain, unremarkable, heterosexual footsteps. Sure, his hair might have been the same length, just fluffed differently in the front, but that was about as much in common that the two men shared.

“You need to drop that complicated attire too. You don’t need to be dressed weird to get my attention.”

Mickey wanted to make a more progressive point, but for some reason a more immature answer came out. “Guys can dress well too if they want!”

“Not a boy of mine, so drop it.”

Mickey could practically feel his clothes shifting to a blank black tank top underneath his d...the older man’s direction. Rolled up to his thighs were a pair of mesh red athletic shorts like many in his closet, and down below were his trusty pair of well-worn sneakers. Mickey kind of understood Joel’s point…it felt easier just blending in, nothing too complicated. Plus, it was simpler buying clothes like these seeing as how his favorite department had plain and simple men’s clothes. Maybe men didn’t have to stand out anyway?

“But Joel-”

“No butts son, or else intruders will enter your behind.”

Mickey flinched, the blatant homophobia always caused him to react as such. But the thought of his behind being pierced did unnerve him. He was the one who liked to do the penetrating after all, so underneath it all Joel did make a point.

Seeing he had won that battle, Joel moved onto something a little more cheery: “Now sport, did you see my friend invite on Humblr?”

“Humblr?” Mickey questioned. “W…what’s that d…mister?”

A flash of embarrassment crossed Mickey’s face, but luckily he had been able to catch himself before he actually said what had almost come out.

“Haha!” Mr. Huang heartily laughed from the front. “Good one son! Everyone knows Asian Americans your age use Humblr!”

“W...What? But I'm not an…”

But the words from Mickey’s mouth stopped as he spotted his reflection in the rear view mirror. His fair, yet distinctly Eastern hue shone forth, alongside the dark, Asian-genetically coded bangs like every other man of his kind. He had the almond-shaped eyes, the deep raven hair, the soft boyish looks. Mickey guessed he could be considered Asian-American.

The more Mickey thought about it, the more it made sense technically. Technically, regardless of how different they were, he and Mr. Huang were related biologically, although he couldn’t exactly recall how. That was the only plausible reason as to why he would even be living in the same house with this man, right? For some reason, the thought of living in that neighborhood seemed foreign and yet still, like home?

Though then again, were the two really that different? Checking his phone, Mickey noticed the boring yet essential Humblr app plastered at the top right of his screen. It was one of the most essential apps after all, beside his online Bible, his school portal, and a calculator. Wait…a school portal? Wasn’t he in his late twenties? Why did he have a school portal?

Suddenly, a bright red notification popped onto the screen. Mickey’s thumb instinctively pressed the app and, forgetting his previous train of thought, accepted Mr. Huang’s family request. On cue, Mickey’s feed launched into action, displaying family photographs, Bible verses, and the “Dad Joke of the Day”.

“How was soccer practice yesterday with your friends?” Mr. Huang asked, bringing Mickey out of his concentration.

“Soccer practice?” Mickey questioned. “My friends don’t play soccer.”

“Stop pulling my leg, kiddo!” Mr. Huang reach back and patted Mickey’s leg to emphasize his point. With each contact, the fatherly hand strengthened Mickey’s thighs and calves. “Asian-American sons always play soccer, which also happens to be all of your friends!”

Mickey scoffed. He could’ve sworn he had a larger variety of friends. But as he imagined all of their faces, he realized it was like looking right into a mirror. A crew of Asian-Americans with no particular member having characteristics that could be differentiable from the rest. Everything was normal as Mr. Huang has said. 

Mickey began to wonder why he was questioning Mr. Huang so much. The older male obviously knew what he was speaking about, and he was the one who had put him on that team anyway. His relative had wanted him to be with the same kinds of men he was exposed to on a regular basis; in the house, in the streets, and at school.

“Well,” Mickey began, the practice suddenly coming to him crystal clear. “it was nothing special. Our team scored a couple of goal, but nothing as strong as our goal to get straight As!”

Mickey clasped his mouth, the lame pun unlike anything that had ever come out of his usual collected, witty being. Yet, he could barely hide his grin at the awfully weak remark he had made. For some reason, Mickey felt an immense elation in mimicking Mr. Huang and his horrible, clean and catchy humor.

All Mr. Huang could do was throw his head back and laugh. “Haha! Good one son!”

This accomplishment had Mickey feeling as if a major weight had been taken off his shoulders, both in progressive maturity and in independence. But hey, who cares man? He just turned 19 this year! Mickey still had a whole life ahead of him, so it was appropriate that he needed to chill out more. To emphasize that point, he spread his athletic legs apart and sat back in his seat, taking up far more space than needed. Mickey was related to this guy after all, so it was appropriate that he would take after him. 

Mr. Huang was practically a father-figure. He was stern at times, but he meant well. And as long as he kept up his grades, he didn’t have to worry about a social life. He already had enough like-minded peers, so Mickey didn’t need anything stressful or complicated. That’s what his Mr. Huang said at least; “Stick to the straight and narrow!”

“Any girls interesting?” 

“W..What! No I uh…”

Mr. Huang’s question popped Mickey’s bubble. For some reason, he wanted to protest. Something about that statement felt incredibly wrong. Yet at the same time, Mr. Huang was always on to something. Mickey just had to trust him with what he thought was the truth, right?

“I’m ga…g…a gu-?”

“Son…” Mr. Huang’s tone immediately switched. No more was the amiable nice guy. Now, it was only the firm discipline of a father. “Do we need to have this talk again?”

Mickey didn’t know what to do but blindly listened.

“You are not gay, just confused.”

Mickey sputtered a rebuke, but struggled. “But dad…! I’m…uh…?”

“Where did you learn that word again?”

“I…” It was like the word in question evaporated from his vocabulary. “Not sure man…but it does feel kinda wrong.”

“That’s good, kiddo,” Mr. Huang affirmed. “You don’t have to worry about it because you are into girls!”

“R…Really?” Mickey replied. A slight surge of energy pulsed through his meager package in response. Hadn’t it been larger, much larger? “I…I’m not sure. I guess some of them are cute though-”

“Precisely! You can’t stop talking about your girlfriend!”

Everything felt hazy. It was like Mickey couldn’t remember anything until the father confirmed it. With a smooth swerve, the family sedan was pulled into the driveway. Once the vehicle was parked and turned off, Mr. Huang turned to face the young man behind him.

“Do I need to teach you how to aim straight again, kiddo?”

Mr. Huang gripped Mickey’s pouch firmly. The warm, fatherly touch just about sent him over the edge. Mickey’s eyes slumped back as he became completely obedient to the father’s words.

“Now, I'm going to need you to repeat after me, kiddo.”

Mr. Huang kneaded Mickey’s pouch, garnering a groan of confirmation.

“‘I'm not gay, I'm just confused’.”

Mickey took an exaggerated breath of air before repeating.

“‘I'm into ladies, just like the other boys in school’.”

Mickey practically moaned on the word “ladies” and felt a wave of normality pass with “like the other boys”. Both him and Mr. Huang were surprised when he said the next phrase all on his own.

“...I have a girlfriend.”

“Yes kiddo!” Mr. Huang cheered, giving his son a congratulatory squeeze. “And how does it make you feel knowing you are ready to take the next step?”

Mickey could feel his breath quickening. “‘The next step’?”

“Well sure son,” Mr. Huang confirmed with a fatherly smile. “You’re going to propose.”

And with that sweeping realization came a rush of pure, unadulterated bliss. Although the rush itself was fairly meager, it still carried a massive wave of enlightenment.

“Now that looked like a big production!" the father congratulated from the front seat, causing the young man to blush.

“Thank the Lord it won’t show,” Micah Huang smiled. The Lord had a strange way of distributing his gifts. Micah was unfortunately blessed with muscles a little larger than his companions, a noticeable fault when regarding all the other 5’6-5’8 men. Fortunately however, he was blessed in his more private regions with extremely modest bearings, those of which were already perking up at the thought of his upcoming proposal.

“Are you ready, son?” his father asked out front as they entered the house. The smell of food cooking meant Micah’s mother was in the kitchen.

“Yes, but when do I propose to her dad?” Micah pleaded.

“Just let your instincts lead you son,” his father replied with a sharp spank.

Micah didn’t respond with anything fancy, just a polite nod before saying, “Ok dad.” In moments, he was already in his room and bashfully video chatting with his girlfriend. 

“Hey Jessie…” Micah was so anxious that he felt like he could explode. “I’ve got something to propose to you during service tomorrow…”

[zzwezz]

My Best Friend

This story is about My best friend and Me. Our friendship was begun at elementary school. He’s sitting next to me. Then, he became my first friend at school. We even shared our secrets to strengthen our bond. We have been being chair mate until high school. He is the best friend I ever had. He always cheers me up when I was upset, he helps me to solve my problem and shares happiness to each other. Since we have been doing everything together, all of my family members known him well already. He is an only child in his family. He used to live with his father since his mother passed away while he’s still a toddler. Even so, we are still in joy together.

But one day, I got terrible news. His father got into a car accident on the way home and passed away. I pity him so much. He often comes to my house after that event. He will cry and mourn his lost. He didn’t have any relatives left in his life. I am so desperate to know that he’ll live at orphanage.

After few weeks, I was so excited to tell him something. I asked him to meet me. I have been waiting for long time in the living room until my brothers came in and said,

“Hey bro, your friend is coming over”

After he finished his sentence, my best friend appeared after him. He was so excited to meet me, he run towards me and hug me tightly.  Opps… I almost forgot to introduce my best friend. He’s Andi anyway.

“Guess, I better leave you two alone by now, I’ll go back to my room. Don’t disturb me bro” my brother said and went away.

“What are you gonna tell me to, Reza?” he asked.

I grabbed his hand and brought him to my room rapidly. Then, I locked the door.

“What are you doing? by the way, I saw your father in the garden when I passed by,  Is he working out?”

“Yeah.. He is working out at home now; all the gym was closed recently. So he is working out all by himself in the garden with the tools he got before. My older brother does the same too, but he’s doing it in his room”

“Okay, What are you going to do then?”

“Well.. you’ll see soon. Drinks this potion, now” I gave him a bottle of weird potion. He looked so confused about it.

“What’s this?” he said with curious face.

“Trust me, Andi. We are best friend, aren’t we? Trust me!”

“O..Okay ”, Andi replied.

Then, he took the potion and drunk all of it.

“So…What else?”

“Just wait”

After waiting for about 5 minutes, Suddenly, Andi’s body was shining and turning invisible like a ghost. He’s so excited with it and bloated around my room.

“Wow! What did you do to me, Za?”

“I bought this potion to make you transform into a ghost. So you can……” before i completed my word, he flew out of my room and went ahead to my brother’s room.

“Hey! What are you doing?” He didn’t listen to me at all; he’s flying through my brother’s room and entering it easily. I’m afraid that he will be mad if I made such a noise. So I sneaked over my brother’s room. I saw my brother’s sleeping only using his short and Andi was there, floating above his body.

“Andi! What are you doing?” I was whispering.

“Watch this!”,Andi said. Then, he’s diving and entering my brother’s mouth forcefully. Soon my brother’s stomach puffed up while Andi entering his body. Finally, all of Andi’s ghost form entered his mouth already. That inflated stomach returned back to its regular size. After that, my brother opened his eyes and sat on the bed. He looked at his hands and feet, his face was so happy seeing that. He began to touch his hard abs and flexed his muscles in front of me.  Then, he stared at me.

“Brother, what are you doing?” I asked curiously.

“Hahahaha, It’s me bro! Andi” he said it using my brother’s manly voice. I couldn’t believe that my friend has possessing my brother. He acted like it’s his own body, he even doesn’t care about whose body it is at all. Cause he’s in control right now.

“Oh gosh, your brother’s body is so sexy and hot bro! I think I’m horny right now, his dick was tightened up right now! Do you want to see this? Do you mind if  I jerking off this beef in front of you?” he said .

“No way, bro! You should go to the bathroom and jerking off there” I replied.

Then, he walked into the bathroom and locked it, while I was sitting in my brother’s bed. I could hear that Andi was moaning using my brother’s voice. He got so excited much more. After that, he went out from the bathroom, his body is covered by his own cum. That’s made me furious.

“Andi! Clean yourself now! That’s gross” I said.

He just grinning and walking back to the bathroom again. After a long time waiting, he’ showering , he came out wearing the different shorts and took a chair towards me and sat on it.

“Bro, you can’t believe what I just done inside there. Your brother’s dick is so long and massive! I can’t resist to jerking off more than once in his body. Even his cum is so delightful, you should have tasted it before. Look at my body now bro! This body is filled with muscles. I bet your brother is working hard to get this sexy body” he said while pointing his fingers around his body.

“Actually, I want you become a ghost. So that you can stay in my house. Accompanying me. I didn’t know if you even can do that, I was amazed “I said.

"Well.. Actually, this body is really suitable for my new body. We can try sibling’s relationship, but I have another plan that might be better . By the way look this selfie i got when i was in bathroom” he said and show me his  mirror selfie in the bathroom

“wow , bro . he is so sexy , i never know that ” I said

“ so whats you plan next “ i asked

 he keep quiet .Then he flew out of my brother’s body through his mouth and started to fly around the house , so my brother body is collapse to the floor. i didn’t care about that cause he will wake up by himself . I start to follow my friend , I didn’t want him to make any stupid moves. He seemed searching for someone in the garden. He’s been upset, but he didn’t give up. He kept searching. He stopped in the living room. He found his target was going to get into the bathroom, it’s my dad. He has been in the living room after he workout in the garden.

Then my fathers walked into the bathroom and closed the door and showering. Andi’s following after him. I just was waiting in front of the bathroom. Suddenly, my friend’s head was popping out from bathroom door, that’s frightened me out.

“Hey bro, come in! You might want to see this. It’s not locked and your father already in the shower, so he won’t notice your existence”

I entered the bathroom stealthy as he told me. When I already inside, my father noticed that there’s someone entering the bathroom.

“Reza, is that you?” my father asked while showering.  

“Yeah dad, i am just going to pee” I answered.

Then my dad’s continued his showering. Cleaned his body, his hair and his dick too. My friend gave me a sign that he’s ready to enter. So he started to go inside the shower, he’s floating right in front of my father but he couldn’t see him. Then my friend flew inside to his mouth,that gave him a shock sensation. He stopped showering, tried to push that things out from his mouth. But, my friend’s ghost form already half of it and he also pushed it harder. After that, my friend already reached into my father’s throat and my father accidentally just swallowed it. He feels a breeze around his throat , then he felt that things already spread over inside his abs . I watched him in horror outside while my father was being possessed by my best friend.

I saw from outside that my father began to calm. Then, he’s getting out of the shower nakedly and giving a big grin.

“Possession complete” he said.

“Here, take this towel, dry your body off” I gave him a towel.

My father began to dry himself and covered his waist with the towel. Then he began to see his reflection on the mirror, he checked his face and began to rub his wooden abs and flexed it up in front of the mirror.

“Oh great bro, your father’s body is even sexier and bigger than your brother” he said.

“I know right, you have taken over my father body. So, you will be my father for now?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be your father from now on. But, we are still best friend even I have your father body, aren’t we?” he said

“Ok then, let’s get out of here”

Andi who’s inside my father’s body and me went out from the bathroom. Suddenly, my mother approached us and went into a lustful kiss to my ‘father’.

“I’m home, babe. Maybe we can do something private alone” she said while rubbing my father abs.

Andi nodded vigorously. He gave me a sign that I should leave them alone. Then, I left them alone, from a distance; I was watching my friend carrying my mother and bringing her to their own bedroom and having sex then.

Well, I think my best friend didn’t feel desperate anymore. He got his happiness already and stayed with me even if he is in my father’s body forever. He must be so happy now having my father’s handsome face and muscular body. He even can have sex with my mother.  He is might  be look like my father , but exactly…. he is still my best friend

Grammar checked by @thedreamerstaker​

[zzwezz]

He's a successful senator with impeccable career. He's a respected man in his community and beloved by his constituent. But no one is perfect, including him. Before his marriage with his current wife, Jeremiah Galbraith had a son with his highschool lover, Eugenia or Genie. It was a PR disaster for the powerful Galbraith family and they managed to hide the whole scandal by stuffing Genie's foster parents with money and kept Genie in one of their residences outside of the state. Poor Genie, an orphan since childhood, pretty but not loved by his foster parents who just used her, the belle lost his virginity and consequently, her future, because Jeremiah Galbraith couldn't keep his penis in the condom as he tricked her and released his rubber in the last seconds before shooting his load inside of her. She was taken by surprise, her boyfriend tricked her just for the sake of feeling good

"I never like that thing, it's weird,"

And 2 months later they found out that she was pregnant. And coming from conservative household, abortion was not even an option and hence, her ostracized life begin ever since that moment until she gave birth and live on her own

It was 27 years ago. Jeremiah's track record is still "squeaky clean", a model citizen they said. But not for Eugene Love. Genie died after long battle with cancer. She never married, her heart still longing for Jeremiah even until the final day of her life. But Eugene despised the man that her mother so fond of. His heart thirsty for vengeance due to the abandonment of his own biological father. He doesn't even have a proper surname, Love was a name her mom chose for herself and passed on to him. Well, better than scumbag Galbraith still, but he's still angry at the injustice and how that bastard seemingly dumped his mother as if she's nothing

So it was not surprising that Gene resorted to dark magic to exact his revenge. The price is his own life but with no one loving him left in the world, the soft-spoken loner and averagely thin Gene decided that it would be worth it. After all, he would just lost his physical body, his spirit would be able to still wander and latch into anyone he desired after he destroyed Jeremiah Galbraith's life.

The takeover was smooth and barely made any fuss. He shot himself right to Jeremiah's open mouth as he yawned in his office. No one was inside the room so no eyewitnesses and even in camera, it looked like he just slightly choked before resumed to breathe normally. So then, what the CCTV recorded was the senator suddenly whipped his dress pants off and started to made a mess of himself. He winked to the CCTV and then he called his secretary to walked in. It was a surprise for his secretary to witness such scene and yet, he grinned like a maniac as he sauntered to the surprised secretary and furiously grabbed her hand as he locked the door and forced her to watch the whole thing while he admitted his past sins.

It was traumatic to say the least as she resigned from her position and brought the case to the court as form of sexual harassment. From then on, Jeremiah Galbraith's life spiralled down. Gene made him resigned from office, his wife filed for divorce as he became "disturbed" and his business and political partner distanced themselves from him. His two sons followed their mom as she won the custody and seen an opportunity, Gene made his move to one of the Galbraith boys and returned Jeremiah to the driving seat.

Jeremiah lost more than 2 years of his life as during Gene's control, he basically put to sleep. He definitely surprised with all the thing that happened in his life, he even said that he remembered nothing. The court assessed his psychological condition and decided that his mental state is definitely disturbed so he ended in the psychiatric hospital, still totally have zero clue and even denied that he ever did any of the actions he did in the past two years.

For Gene, well, he basically get a chance to restart his life as he's now inside the 20 years old Tony Galbraith, the youngest Galbraith son. An Ivy League student and coming from quite an established political family, maybe he's going to be a senator just like his disgraced dad. Well, Gene doesn't want that but Tony seemingly still in disbelief that his dad ruined his own life like that because he idolized his dad so bad and wanted to become like him too

"Gonna fulfill your dream, boy," Gene murmured using Tony's voice

"Did you say something, Tony?" asked Mrs. Galbraith, lifting the last box before they leave their house for good

"Uh, no, mom. Nothing," he said as he smiled like a good boy he is

[zzwezz]

Some Stash

These pictures sit quietly in my gallery for a while so I guess it's time to unleash them. I guess these pictures have certain pattern that will be used as the theme of the captions

Buck

"I don't know what the hell was that, but.....it seems like there's something new in you today, and I liked it,"

"It's still the same old Buck, babe. Nothing else,"

"We should have done this months ago. I never understand why you always reject the notion of showering together with me when you clearly can spice things up there,"

"Save the water babe. But I guess we're going to save less water from now on,"

"Maybe next up we gotta add more heat, don't you think? I'll wait for you outside. No more funny business, my mom is going to kill us if we're not there in the next 1 hour,"

"I'll be out in 2 minutes,"

As she closed the bathroom door, he just smirked to the mirror

"See what I did there, Buck? I take charge and I use your body for my benefit. I'm more of a man than you'll ever be, remember that. And now, I'm going to charm Mrs. Wendell in a way that you cannot even imagine. Yes Buck, I'm playing you better in all aspect and you're going to give in your body to me more often than ever,"

Stop Staring!

"Uh, Kevin, what's up? Why do you keep staring at me like that? I cannot focus on my assignment,"

"Nothing. I just admired how beautiful you're from up close. It's rare for me to see you from such close proximity,"

"Stop acting so weird. Did you smoke weed or something before you went to class? Clearly you're not yourself today. You've been acting odd, even in lunch you eat that shit you always put aside.....what's that called?

"The salad? I eat greens, babe, if not, I cannot get you this amazing body you love to rest upon. *smirk* Oh babe, I'm very much sober. I'm just telling you the truth, you look so fucking beautiful, you know?" He said as he got closer to his girlfriend, he started to kiss her neck "You like this, right? I know I rarely complimented you but that's going to change from now on,"

"Ew, you're fucking hard. This is not even dinner yet and you just wanted to jump to dessert already?" she said flirtatiously, giggling from the kisses Kevin gives to her.

"Heck yeah, babe. Now put that laptop away and let me admire you from even closer range,"

If only she could hear Kevin screaming for help, but that's not possible, he's trapped deep inside his own mind anyway

Take a Break

Constantly living in the spotlight, whether as frat boys or the campus athlete or just plain rich kids with bunch of friends can be tiring. That's why for the next several months, I guess I would reside in Jonathan's body after spending 6 months straight as obnoxious frat president Thad Calmers. Jonathan here is your typical literature department boy. Artsy, very good with words and dressed nicely. But of course he got a little more kick with his meticulously kept beard and some fine body under his lanky stature, I mean the boy has some abs and a fuzzy happy trail that leads to this gorgeous cut meat. Not to mention that dreamy gaze of his, oh he's such a hidden gem in the ocean of vanity and obnoxiousness of this all-jacked sporty dude and I can't wait to experience live from his perspective. At least I don't have parties or games to attend every weekend as Jonathan, that would be one hell of a relieve.

Let's Go

"There you are. For God's sake bro, I searched for you around. Do you realize how long you "went to the toilet"? You made us worried. And where the fuck is your phone, we called you like hundred times,"

"I just got lost, bro, sorry,"

"Lost? Lost in ecstasy as you pump that meat? You seems so giddy....ecstatic even.....I bet you fucked some random chick in the bathroom or casually flip that bird, huh? Moron, we waited an hour for ya, we supposedly have to grab the keg and buy some shit you know? Let's go, told the boys to left earlier so maybe we should just get back to the frat while they're buying stuff,"

"Great idea," then he said in his mind "then I gotta call Randy so he could slip himself inside Hayden fucking Rockport while the other boys are not here. Fuck, I don't expect things to be this smooth. The richest boy in Alpha Kappa will become another collection of ours to enjoy!"

So Easy

"I thought you would put up more fight than that, Brad. But I guess you want me inside of you after all, huh?" Brad said to the mirror as he taunt himself

Except, it's not Brad Finnemore. It's Kurt, his own roommate. Unlike Brad, Kurt never stood up in the campus social scene. He's not a nerd, but he's not popular either. He got invited to the parties but he remained in the background, chugging a couple shot here and there, being casual with some people and sometimes take a little kiss in the corner before left the party quite early. Yet, he wanted more and Brad is seemingly the perfect person to satisfy that desire of his. So he started to terrorize Brad in his sleep, messing Brad's dream occasionally. When Brad dreamed of his girlfriend, Kurt interrupted and suddenly his girlfriend kissed Kurt instead. When Brad dreamed of getting drafted to NFL, Kurt messed with it as he made himself drafted instead of Brad which definitely is impossible but nothing is impossible in dream. When Brad dreamed of Thanksgiving dinner with his family, Kurt sit in his father's seat instead and scold him for his failure and terrible score. The last dream was the final coffin in the nail as Brad dreamed of being lonely in his dorm room, Kurt entered and said

"Just give it up Brad. Let me guide you and help you for the steps ahead. I'm so much better than you and you know it,"

"B....but.....no.....this only happened in my dream. This is also a dream, right? Giselle loved me. You never play football and you are definitely not my dad or Coach!"

"Yet you're insecure of all of that. This is your own unconsciousness, voicing out your deepest fear and feeling. Let me help you, after all, with me out from the picture, you probably can achieve all of the things you dreamed upon, right? So, just let me make this......whole.....things....right for you.....ahhh....now this is better," he said as he somehow slid into Brad in the dream.

That was yesterday. Now, he literally take over Brad's body and he's not planning to get out anytime soon. After all, Brad still thinks that he's sleeping so as long as he's trapped there, Kurt is ready to filled out Brad's shoes. Question is......what about his own body?

[zzwezz]

Body of Lwa

Requested by @wakfu02​

“Found the guy’s hideout, coming in,” said Officer Santos to his lieutenant.

“No, Harvey, y-”

Harvey hung up and rushed through a hallway of storage. A smell of candle wax and ashes burnt his nose. The sound of metallic bells ringing, rattle of sand against wood, and teeth chattering boomed. At the end, he turned to the right and found the old drug dealer, Cobra, inside one of the storages. 

“Hands up!” shouted Officer Santos while pointing his gun.

“Orixá, dê-me o corpo, a juventude e a força deste homem!” chanted Cobra as he blew a white powder at the cop’s face. It had the faint taste of alcohol and medicinal herbs 

Harvey wiped his eyes with his freed hand. Cobra was about to grab a dagger. The policeman pulled the trigger and shot the criminal. Cobra grinned and cackled before falling down. From a laptop, the rattle of sand turned into snakes hissing while Cobra kept on laughing. Soon, black oil-like goo came out of his mouth and boiled. Slimy vampire bats flew out and charged at Harvey. The agent of law tried to move, but vertigo made him lose his balance. A swarm of bats dived between his gaping lips. Harvey fell down on his back and flung his arms around. He writhed and shook while the bats melted and infested his body. Progressively, the taste and flavour became addictive, his mind was betraying him.

“Cobra, take me as your host,” the cop’s consciousness said.

“Good boy,” Cobra’s spectral voice replied.

————————-

Bruce headed toward his ex’s flat. His lieutenant told him that Harvey apparently got drugged by the Cobra, so he had to rest a bit. Bruce took the elevator up to Harvey’s floor. Strangely, the door had been left open.

“Impressive,” Harvey’s words echoed from the bathroom.

Bruce stepped toward the source of the sound. Inside, he found Harvey shirtless, admiring, and taking pictures of himself in front of the mirror.

“Your flesh is gonna be fun to inhabit,” Harvey told himself as he flexed.

“Harvey?” Bruce called.

The policeman noticed Bruce thanks to the mirror and turned around.

“Hmm,” Harvey closed his eyes quickly. “You’re… Bruce, right?”

“Yeah.” Bruce lolled his head to the side. “That Cobra really got you high.”

“Thankfully, he didn’t harm that powerful body,” Harvey said as he caressed his pecs and abs.

Bruce rose an eyebrow. “Oookay… Just came here to check on you, so bye.”

Before he could leave, Harvey slammed the door close and sniffed him.

“Ooh, you’re a lawyer,” Harvey ran his nose against Bruce’s hair. “And we used to fuck.”

“Harvey, let me go!”

Harvey grabbed him by the wrists. “No no, you’re gonna be useful.”

“Harvey, what the-”

“C’mon, I know you want me, fucking you good again.” Harvey rubbed his muscular torso against Bruce.

Bruce glanced away and bit his lower lip. “Fine, but that’s the last time.”

“Of course.” Harvey bit his lover’s right ear. “The last time.”

[zzwezz]

Raj's Break

I adjusted my sunglasses as I stepped out of the taxi, the warm tropical breeze ruffling my shirt. Before me, the Azure Sands Resort loomed—a sprawling paradise of palm trees, infinity pools, and cabanas dotting the shoreline. I smirked, rolling my shoulders. Finally. After months of nonstop training, I deserved this: a week of sun, expensive drinks, and maybe a little harmless flirting.

The lobby was sleek and airy, all white marble and soft ocean hues. A cheerful attendant beamed at me from behind the desk.

"Welcome to Azure Sands, Mr. Desai!" she said, sliding a keycard toward me. "Your orientation starts in thirty minutes at the Sapphire Lounge. Mandatory for all guests!"

I frowned. "Orientation?"

She blinked. "Oh! Did your booking agent not mention? Azure Sands is famous for our Body Harmony Experience."

"The what?"

"It’s our core policy!" she said brightly. "Everyone swaps bodies for the duration of their stay. Temporary, of course—unless…" She leaned in, lowering her voice. "Well, if you get intimate with your old body before the swap reverses, the change becomes permanent. But that’s very rare." She winked.

I exhaled sharply. What the hell had I signed up for? But a quick glance around the lobby reassured me—most guests were in peak physical shape, just like me. If I ended up in some other fit guy’s body for a week, so be it. I could still relax.

The Sapphire Lounge was packed, guests murmuring with excitement as a staff member explained the process. I slouched in my seat, arms crossed, until—

"Raj Desai, you’ll be paired with… Charlie Mercer!"

A petite woman with short, tousled brown hair shot up from her seat. "What?"

The staffer paled, tapping frantically at their tablet. "Oh—oh no. There’s been a mistake. Charlie was marked male in the system—this has never happened before!"

My pulse spiked. "You’re joking."

Charlie crossed her arms. "Yeah, no. I didn’t sign up to be some guy."

The staffer stammered apologies—the system couldn’t be reversed. The swap would happen automatically at dawn. As compensation, our drink packages were comped.

Great. Just great.

The next morning, I blinked awake—and immediately registered two unfamiliar weights on my chest.

No. Not weights.

Breasts.

I groaned, sitting up and running a hand through long, silky hair that definitely wasn’t mine. My hips were narrower, my frame lighter. My fingers—smaller, manicured—flexed in front of my face.

Okay. This was happening.

By the time I made it to the pool, I’d adjusted. Mostly.

The way people looked at me now was different. Men’s eyes lingered. Their smiles came easier. And I, despite myself, leaned into it.

"That’s a strong swimmer’s build you’ve got there," I teased a guy doing laps, resting my chin on my palm.

The man—tall, broad-shouldered, clearly relishing his borrowed form—grinned back. "Thanks. First time I’ve ever had the stamina for it." He flexed slightly, and I laughed.

"Enjoy it while it lasts."

I still felt weird about the flirting, though. I was straight. Wasn’t I?

Then—I saw myself.

Or rather, I saw Charlie.

My own body—my face, my dark hair, my lean but toned frame—was lounging by the pool, surrounded by a group of fit guys. But the way Charlie carried himself was… different. I had always been quick to laugh, to gesture, to fill silence. Charlie, though? She was relaxed. Quiet. A small smirk played on her lips as she listened to the others, her arms crossed behind her head, biceps flexing under the sun.

Damn. I look good.

Then a woman approached—tall, confident, her fingers brushing Charlie’s arm as she laughed at something she said. Charlie didn’t lean into it, but she didn’t pull away either. Just gave her that same calm, knowing smile.

My stomach twisted.

Oh, this is weird.

The woman’s hand lingered on Charlie’s bicep, her thumb tracing the curve of muscle. Charlie’s expression didn’t change, but there was something in the way she held herself—like she was savoring it.

I should’ve looked away.

I didn’t.

Over the next week, I tried to relax.

It wasn’t easy.

Sure, Charlie’s body was in great shape—lean, toned, with an effortless grace that turned heads—but I missed the solid weight of my own muscles, the familiar strength in my limbs. Worse, I missed the way people looked at me before. Now, the attention was different.

I’d attempted flirting a few times—testing the waters—but every interaction left me unsettled.

At the bar, a guy with sun-bleached hair and a lazy smirk had leaned in, eyes flicking over my borrowed form. "You here alone?"

I had stiffened. "Uh. Yeah."

"You look like you could use some company." The guy’s fingers brushed my wrist.

I had yanked my hand back like I’d been burned. "Not—not into guys."

The stranger had laughed, not unkindly. "Could’ve fooled me."

That was the problem.

I was fooling them.

Because Charlie’s body was attractive—just not in the way I knew how to work with. And the few women I’d tried talking to either weren’t interested or weren’t gay. Not that that mattered, I wouldn’t have known what to do without my equipment anyway.

So I waited. Counted the days. Tried not to think about the fact that my own body was becoming something of a legend. But everywhere I went, whispers about my old body followed.

"That’s the girl in Raj’s body. Holy shit, have you seen her move? Like she was born in it."

"How the hell does someone get arms like that? Dude’s carved out of marble."

"Whoever’s in there now? They’re owning it."

Flattering. Annoying, but flattering.

Then, a few days later, I heard something new.

Two guys at the poolside bar, voices low but carrying.

"You hear about that girl in Raj’s body? Word is she fucked her old self to lock in the swap."

I choked on my cocktail.

"No way," the other guy snorted. "Why would the original owner agree to that?"

"I dunno, man. Look at her." A nod toward the pool deck, where Charlie—my body—lounged like a king, a half-circle of admirers around her. "I’d do what she wanted, and I’m not even gay. Besides…" A pause, loaded. "You really think whoever’s in there is giving that body back?"

My stomach twisted.

I looked across the water.

Charlie—my body—was stretched out on a lounge chair, biceps flexing as she reached for a drink. She laughed at something a woman said, the sound deep and effortless. The way she moved… it wasn’t just comfort.

It was ownership.

And for the first time, I wondered—

What if she doesn’t want to switch back?

The rest of the week passed in a strange, suspended tension.

Charlie and I never spoke—never even came close. But our eyes met sometimes, across the pool or in the dim glow of the resort’s evening parties. Every time, it sent an odd flutter through my stomach, a sensation I couldn’t name.

Why did it feel like this?

It wasn’t attraction—at least, not the kind I recognized. Maybe it was just the surrealism of seeing myself from the outside, watching my own body move with a confidence I’d never quite had.

Charlie would smirk, slow and knowing, like she was privy to some joke I didn’t get.

And every time, I was the one to look away first.

Meanwhile, if I was struggling, Charlie was thriving.

She’d abandoned shirts entirely, strutting around the resort in borrowed swim trunks—first board shorts, then, by midweek, a tight navy speedo some guy had lent her ("Lost a bet," the guy had muttered, eyes glued to Charlie’s thighs).

My body had always turned heads, but Charlie wielded it like a weapon. She lounged poolside, biceps flexed behind her head, abs on full display. She laughed louder, moved smoother, drew crowds without even trying.

And the women—god, the women.

I lost count of how many times I saw Charlie slip away with someone different: a brunette with a sharp laugh one night, a redhead who bit her lip when she looked at her the next. Each time, my jaw tightened.

Was she using protection?

The thought lodged in my brain like a splinter. It shouldn’t matter—it wasn’t my body right now, technically—but the idea of Charlie carelessly risking… me… made my skin prickle.

On the last night, the farewell party was in full swing, the air thick with salt and the scent of rum cocktails. I leaned against the bar, nursing a mojito and watching the crowd. A redheaded guy—some finance bro who’d clearly never been this jacked before—was mid-rant to me about how unfair it was that the swap was ending.

"I mean, I’ve been hitting the gym in this thing every day," the redhead said, flexing an arm that looked like it could crush coconuts. "I can’t just go back to being… me."

I smirked. "Yeah, well, tough luck."

"Maybe I should try and convince the guy in my body to stay swapped. I mean, I’m rich—I’m not gay, but I think I could do with one night to keep this," the guy grumbled, then perked up as his gaze flicked over my shoulder. "Oh damn. Speaking of unfair…"

A shadow fell across the bar. I turned—and there she was.

Charlie—wearing my body like it had always been hers—stood there in a fitted black tank top, shoulders broad, biceps flexing as she rested a hand on the bar. She didn’t say anything at first, just gave the redhead a slow, knowing look.

"Mind if I steal her?" she asked, voice smooth.

The redhead blinked, then grinned. "Oh, hell no. Go for it."

Before I could protest, Charlie’s fingers—my fingers—closed gently around my wrist. "Come on," she murmured, leading me away from the bar with effortless authority.

My pulse jumped. This is weird. This is so weird.

We stopped near a quieter stretch of the pool, the water reflecting torchlight in rippling gold. Charlie leaned against a palm tree, arms crossed, studying me with an amused tilt to her mouth.

"So," she said. "Charlie, right?"

I exhaled. Okay, we’re still keeping this up.

"Yeah," I said, forcing a casual shrug. "And you’re… Raj."

Charlie grinned—my grin, calm and confident. "Nice to meet you, Charlie." She let her gaze drag over me, slow and appreciative. "You’re cute."

My face warmed. Jesus.

"Uh. Thanks," I muttered, taking a sip of my drink just to have something to do.

Charlie didn’t seem bothered by the awkwardness. She just shifted closer, closing the space between us with an easy confidence that left no room for protest. "So," she said, voice low. "How’ve you been enjoying your vacation?"

I shrugged. "Fine. Relaxing."

"Just fine?" Charlie arched a brow—my brow—and smirked. "Come on. You’ve been here a week. What’d you do? Lounge by the pool? Flirt with strangers?"

I snorted. "Maybe a little."

Charlie’s hand brushed my waist, casual but deliberate, fingers warm against the thin fabric of my sundress. "Good. That’s what this place is for."

I swallowed. The way she touched me—like she knew she could, like it was the most natural thing in the world—was doing things to my head.

"What about you?" I asked, desperate to shift the focus. "How’s… Raj’s body treating you?"

Charlie chuckled, low and rich. "Oh, you have no idea." She rolled my shoulders, the muscles shifting under smooth, sun-kissed skin. "The ladies? Wild for it."

I watched, transfixed, as she flexed an arm—just slightly, just enough to make the veins stand out.

"I mean," Charlie continued, voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur, "can you blame them?"

My mouth went dry.

No.

No, I couldn’t.

I took a slow sip of my drink, watching Charlie over the rim of the glass. The music pulsed around us, laughter and whispered conversations blending into the humid night air. I hesitated, then decided to just say it.

"So." I said. "Heard a rumor about you."

Charlie tilted her head, the corner of her mouth quirking. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. "Word is, you got so comfortable in that body, you decided to make it permanent. Had a little... encounter with your old self."

Charlie let out a laugh—deep, rich, my own damn laugh—and shook her head. "Please. As if the original owner would ever let this go."

Charlie shifted closer, her arm brushing against my shoulder. "You cold?"

I blinked. "What? No. It’s like eighty degrees out."

"Hm." Charlie’s hand slid around my waist anyway, pulling me in with an effortless confidence that left no room for protest. "Just making sure."

I should’ve pushed her away. Should’ve laughed it off, made a joke, something. But the warmth of my own body—the solid weight of muscle, the familiar scent of my cologne—was weirdly intoxicating.

Before I knew it, we were back in Charlie’s villa (my villa, technically), the balcony doors open to let in the ocean breeze. Charlie stretched out on the bed, arms behind her head, watching me with that same confident smirk.

"You’re staring," I said, crossing my arms.

"Am I?" Charlie’s gaze didn’t waver. "Just appreciating the view."

I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t leave.

Somehow, I ended up beside her on the mattress, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin. Charlie’s fingers traced idle patterns along my arm—light, teasing, possessive in a way that made my breath hitch.

"What are you doing?" I asked, voice dry.

Charlie just smiled. "Enjoying my last night in this body." A pause. Then, softer: "Wanna wake up still feeling close to it."

I didn’t answer.

But I didn’t move away either.

Damn, my body wasn’t even registering as mine anymore.

And right now, that woman was spooning me, her—my—thick arms wrapped possessively around my waist. Her chest pressed against my back, the light dusting of hair tickling where the silk of my bra didn’t cover. I should’ve been tense, should’ve been fighting this, but her hands were too good at melting my resistance.

For an hour, she’d been lazily dragging her palm up and down my side, slow, hypnotic strokes that made my breath deepen. Then, without warning, her grip shifted. A firm, knowing squeeze around my breast, her thumb brushing over the peak until it stiffened beneath the fabric. A soft noise escaped me—her—and she pulled me closer, lips grazing my neck in a way that sent a shiver down my spine.

Her hand drifted lower, teasing the waistband of my panties, tracing the lace edge with a maddening lightness. I held my breath, thighs tensing, until—

There.

A single finger slipped inside, pausing as if savoring the warmth before moving with deliberate, torturous slowness. In. Out. Then her thumb found my clit, circling with an expertise that made my toes curl. It was effortless for her. Natural. Like she’d been touching this body her whole life.

I came with a gasp, hips jerking against her hand, but she didn’t stop. Just kissed my shoulder and kept going, working me through the aftershocks before peeling my panties down and replacing her fingers with her mouth.

By the time she was done, I was a trembling mess, sweat-slick and boneless against the sheets. She left me there, dazed, while she stood and walked to the bathroom. When she returned, she was naked—my body, tall and lean, but the way she carried herself was all her.

She climbed back onto the bed, her gaze steady, voice low.

“I’m going to fuck you now.”

No question. No hesitation. Just fact.

I should’ve said no. Should’ve pushed her away, reminded her—reminded myself—that if we did this, the swap would be permanent. But the words died in my throat. There was something about the way she looked at me, the absolute certainty in her touch, that unraveled every last thread of resistance.

When she pushed inside, it wasn’t frantic or desperate. It was controlled. Dominant. Every thrust deliberate, like she was savoring the way my pussy clenched around her cock. And when her rhythm stuttered, her breath hot against my ear, she murmured, “I’m going to cum, ” calm and confident, like it was a promise.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, gentle but firm, as her hips snapped forward one last time. I felt it—the pulse of her cock, the heat spilling inside me—and with it, the finality.

This was it.

No going back.

[zzwezz]

He really got one on his trip to the gasstation! Can't wait to have him back...

[zzwezz]

A Honeymoon to Remember

Request made by: @bodstart

The sun was at its highest peak of day as the pollen and flying seeds were zigzagging between the branches over the winding road. Tony and Alice were driving a little over the speed limit blaring loud country music. Alice looked over at her new husband while brushing his hair with her fingertips, “I’m so glad I met an amazing man like you.” She said as she started to turn the radio down a little so Tony would be able to hear her. 

Tony glanced at her and smiled, “You will be even more happy when you see the hotel we’re staying at.” He winked at her. A few months ago she discovered a picture of this old victorian hotel, but she could never find out where it was so she gave up on that. Tony knew she loved it and wanted to surprise her, he had his secretary at his company he owned to do some investigating. “We’re almost there,” Tony said as he looked at his new wife, “Close your eye baby.”. SHe did as she was instructed excited for the surprise. The 2016 mercedes benz turned around the corner to face a seven story high mansion like hotel. “Welcome to Vista Falls” the sign read. “Open baby,” Tony said with a large grin. Alice gasped as her hand covered her mouth. “Baby you found it?” She asked with almost a scream of excitement. Tony just chuckled as he parked the car by the front door. A vallet walked out with a smile, as he opened the door for Alice.

They walked into the front foyer and there eyes began examining the decor. Tall pillars with gold trim reached all the way up to the ceiling, baby cupids in every corner on the ceiling and a mural painted above them. The stone floors glistened in the sunlight that broke through the windows, and the front desk had a marble counter that looked like it was just polished moments ago. As Tony checked them in Alice walked over to a wall with pictures on it, admiring the past of the hotel. She studied for a moment and something caught her eye; there was a man, in almost every single picture. He had a receding hairline, glasses, doopy face; he looked kinda old. “Hey baby, room is ready!” Tony called for her breaking her trance. She shrugged and hurried to catch up with him as the bellhop was pushing their suitcases to the elevator. Tony glanced at the boy as he pressed the button to the honeymoon sweet; The bellhop had a weird look to his face, he looked like he was hypnotized or something. Tony didn’t think too much about it. DING! The elevator doors opened and Alice was the first to step into the luxurious suit. Silk bedspread draped over the california king mattress. Long white curtains around the tall balcony doors. You got the sense of love, intimacy, and sex as soon as you stepped foot inside.After setting the bags next the the dresser the bellhop coldly said in a monotoned voice, “Breakfast is served at Nine in the cafe, pool and jacuzzi are in the back lounge, and please enjoy your stay.” He walked out of the room before Alice or Tony could ask anything. “He probably had more important things going on than to stay here.” He began unpacking, “Why don’t you put on the swim suit I love so much on, and I will meet you downstairs at the pool?” He grabbed her around the hips and gave her a kiss. As Alice entered the pool area she saw a man lounging in a chair.

 It looked like he was sleeping but then a tall dark man approached him and sternly ordered, “Wake, Follow.” and the lounging man opened his eyes with a cold blank stare and stood up and followed the man into the building. ‘That was odd.’ Alice thought to herself. She picked a lounging chair on the opposite end of the pool and began rubbing tanning lotion on her skin. Meanwhile, back at the suit, Tony finished unpacking his belongings and changed into his swim suit. He went down into the elevator excited to get this honeymoon started with his new wife. The doors opened and a man with a friendly smile walked in holding a tan man who had the cold blank stare, in fact, they were the same people Alice encountered just a few moments ago. Tony walked down the hall and heard a fumble in a room he was walking by. Tony pressed his ear up against the door and heard a crash and silence. Worried that someone may have gotten hurt, Tony knocked on the door a few times asking in everything was alright, no response. Tony felt the door handle and to his surprise it was unlocked, he walked in hopping no one was hurt. He found an older gentleman wearing nothing but a bright blue speedo sitting on the floor with his legs spread open taking a selfie. 

“Oh hey man!” they gentleman said looking over his shoulder, “What do you think?” he asked Tony as he began massaging his pecs. “OH! Sorry I heard a crash and thought someone got injured.” Tony quickly said as he rushed out of the room. Complete with embarrassment Tony turned the corner and saw a giant room with books all around and an older man laying on the sofa, 

“Hello there.” The man calmly said and glanced at Tony with a creepy smirk. “Sorry sir, I’m just trying to find the pool. This place is confusing.” Tony said with a little tremble in his voice. “Down the hall and to the right.” the man calmly said as he laid his head back down and gestured a finger to the direction that Tony must go in. Tony walked down the hall as directed. He found the pool exactly where the older man said, realizing that he should use the bathroom before going into the water, he walked into the men’s room to go pee. As he stood there feeling the release of urine escape his dick slit, he heard a man in the stall yelp and started to groan. “Hey buddy you ok in there?” Tony hollard over the wall. Moments later the man came out stretching his arms and cracking his neck. Tony paid attention to him as he walked over to the sink and washed his hands admiring himself in the mirror; he grabbed his found out and took a selfie and walked out. 

‘The fuck?’ Tony thought to himself as he exited the restroom. He walked to the pool patio and saw Alice laying on the far side. “Hey babe!” She waved for him. He walked up to her and greeted her with a kiss. “There are some strange guests around here,” Tony whispered to her. “Oh I know!” she agreed with the same whisper. The feeling of being around the pool with these drone like people and creeps was bothering both of them too much and they began to leave. As they reached the door to go back into the building, the same man from the library walked past them. Alice instantly who him for the pictures she was looking at, he was the same guy! They got into the elevator and Tony pressed the button. The elevator began to lift and that’s when Alice spoke softly, “That man we just walked past, he is in every single picture by the front desk back when the hotel first opened up!” Tony gave her a look of wonder, “Are you feeling ok?” he asked with a chuckle. “Shut up!” she yelled in a whisper and slapped his arm. “Im serious!” “It probably coincidence. Or He’s the guys descendant.” Tony tried to end the issue. The elevator doors opened and they both walked into and found the boy standing in the bedroom at the foot of the bed completely naked and an erection and a man on there bed masterbating, his moans were loud as he jizzed all over the bed and himself. 

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON YOU FREAKS?!?!?!?” Tony hollard, his face getting blood red and his veins bulging out of his big biceps. BING! Just then the elevator doors opened and that older man walked into the room. “Sorry,” the man said with an eerie smile, “I forgot to introduce you to your new housemates.” His eyes glowed green and his smile widened. He looked at Alice and peered into her eyes, he calmly demanded, “Sleep.” Alice eyes closed and her head hunched forward. He looked at Tony and chuckled. “What the fuck did you do to her?!?” Tony yelled about to rush to her then suddenly the two naked men grabbed his arms keeping him from moving, they didn’t look like it but they were supernaturally strong. The older man looked at him and said, “See, i’ve been on this planet for quite sometime, and I noticed that all of you humans get old and die. It sucks, but thankfully I have found a way to save whatever body I am in for more than the reasonable human with ever be able to handle.,” he signed before continuing. “But, it is time that I find a new vessel. Yours is perfect.” Tony was about to call for help then just as calmly the man put his wife to sleep, he said, “Silent”. Tony’s mouth relaxed and he couldn’t speak. His heart began racing. The man walked over to him and gave Tony a passionate kiss on the lips, both of their tongues danced with each other and Tony couldn’t resist one minute of it. Tony began feeling a slimy tongue in between their mouths, he still couldnt fight it even if the two other men were still holding him down. The slime began traveling down his throat and into his stomach. When the slime left the older man his body hit the floor. Tony’s body began convulsing as he felt the slime moving all throughout his body, making its way to every single limb and muscle. His eyes closed for a moment and his body relaxed. He felt the arms of the other men released from around his arms, this was his chance to run, but he couldn’t. His legs weren’t moving. His eyes opened finally and he realized he had no control over his own body anymore. His body looked down at his hand and he heard his voice say, “You will do just fine for me.”. He looked at his wife and ordered the bigger of the two men to take her away. Her eyes opened but it was no longer her anymore, she had that same blank stare that other men in the hotel had. “Tony” looked over at the other man and began passionately kissing him. “Thank God my family can possess some and control others.” Tony’s body said as he began taking off his clothes reliving his toned washboard abs and large biceps. He looked at the slave and said, “Do something with these, you know what I like.” He winked at the man who gave a nod and took them. Tony god onto the bed and started to rub his new cock. The slave took the socks and began rubbing them all over his body and slowly brought them up to his face and gave a huge wiff. “How do they smell?” “Tony” asked. In a monotone voice the slave said, “They smell like all of the reasons I serve and please you master.” “Tony” began furiously jerking his cock and the slave continued to rub the socks on his abs and working his way down to his crotch and rubbed them over his dick and under his balls. The new Tony knew instantly as he began shooting hot loads out of his large shaft that he will like having Tony’s body for good now.

[zzwezz]

The 4400: Being Tom Baldwin

(AI Generated - Inspired by the sci-fi TV-series “The 4400”. I remember I grew up watching the series, and developing a deep crush on the handsome actor Joel Gretsch, imagining some super powered criminal using their ability to steal his identity. This is my attempt at fulfilling that dream! Anyone else watch this TV-series back in the day? /Verus)

The year was 1998 when my life ended, or so it felt. One moment, I was a nobody, a lanky, aimless 33-year-old drifting through Seattle’s gray streets, scraping by on odd jobs, nursing a secret I barely admitted to myself: a hunger to be someone else, someone bold, someone whole. The next, I was gone, snatched by a blinding light, one of the 4400 stolen from time. When they spat us back into 2004, Seattle was a stranger, and so was I. 

We were branded “returnees,” each gifted or cursed with an ability from our unseen abductors. Some got flashy powers: telekinesis, healing, visions of the future. Mine was subtler, slipperier, a thief’s dream: body-switching. A touch, a pulse of intent, and I could slide into another’s skin, feel their pulse, and wear their flesh like a tailored suit. It was intimate, invasive, and it fed a craving I’d carried since I was a kid, staring at stronger boys in the locker room, yearning to shed my own frail shell for theirs.

The 4400 were chaos incarnate, a puzzle the government scrambled to solve. The National Threat Assessment Command (NTAC) herded us into quarantine, probing our powers, our motives. I hated it: the sterile rooms, the suspicious stares, the way they made me feel like an abomination of humanity. 

Pale, scrawny, with stringy hair and a voice that wavered, I was nothing. My life before had been a string of one-night stands with men who never called back, a closet I’d cracked open but never stepped through. I wanted permanence, an identity to claim, a life that mattered. Then I saw him: Tom Baldwin and his partner Diana, NTAC agent, striding through the quarantine’s chaos like a king commanding his court.

Tom was everything I wasn’t. Tall, lean, pushing 50 but carved from years of fieldwork, he moved with an older man’s confidence, every step deliberate. His blond hair, short and sun-kissed, caught the light, framing a square jaw dusted with stubble. His piercing blue eyes sliced through the room, missing nothing, and his suit, stretched tight over a muscled chest, hinted at the body beneath: fit, strong, a man’s man.

His gravelly voice barked orders, calming the crowd, and I was hooked. Not just desire, though that burned hot. I didn’t want to fuck him. I wanted to be him: his badge, his purpose, his life.

My obsession grew slowly, a fire stoked by stolen glimpses. I’d linger outside NTAC’s Seattle office, a ghost in the crowd, watching Tom debrief returnees with that commanding tone. On weekends, I’d trail him to the waterfront, his jogs a ritual I memorized. His sweat-soaked shirt clung to his broad shoulders, smooth chest peeking through the open collar, his lean legs pumping with effortless power. I’d camp outside his apartment, hidden in shadows, peering through blinds as he moved inside: shaving that rugged jaw, sipping whiskey in boxers, sprawling on his couch with a masculinity I could only dream of. 

Tom had it all: a badge that opened doors, a son and ex who adored him despite the divorce, a nephew, Kyle, who idolized him. Me? I was a shadow, a 4400 freak with a power that let me taste other lives but never keep them. Tom was my opposite: unshakable, authoritative, the embodiment of control. I spent months worshipping his blond, fit, older body, and I burned for it: his identity, his everything.

The first real swap was a test, a perverse rehearsal. I planned it meticulously, my heart pounding as I stood outside NTAC one gray afternoon. I’d popped a sedative earlier, not enough to knock me out, just enough to dull my senses, to make my body a trap for Tom’s mind. The pill left me woozy, my steps unsteady, but I pushed through the crowd, spotting Tom in his tailored suit, badge clipped to his belt. His blond hair glinted under the fluorescent lights, his lean frame cutting through the chaos with purpose. 

I bumped into him, feigning a stumble, my hand grazing his wrist, power surging like a live wire. The world tilted, and I was in: Tom’s body, tall and solid, a rush of heat and strength flooding me.

I blinked, settling into him. His hands, big and rough with blond hair dusting the knuckles, flexed on instinct. His suit hugged me, the fabric crisp against his lean frame, and I inhaled his scent: clean deodorant, musky armpit, pure Tom. 

I glanced back, seeing my own body, pale, scrawny, eyes glazed from the sedative, stumble. Tom, trapped in it, opened his mouth to shout, but the drug hit hard. 

“What… the hell…” he slurred, voice thin and panicked, before his knees buckled.

He crumpled to the floor, out cold, and I acted fast. Using Tom’s strength, I scooped my old body up, muttering to onlookers, “He’s one of the 4400, needs help.” No one questioned the badge, the suit, the man they saw as Tom Baldwin.

I carried him to a janitor’s closet, locking the door. My old body slumped against the wall, Tom’s mind locked in a drugged haze, and I had time, time to explore. 

I strode to a bathroom, Tom’s boots clicking, and locked myself in a stall. My hands tore at his suit, buttons popping, revealing that powerful chest I’d dreamed of. Blond dusting of hair spread across his pecs, thin and soft, trailing down to tight abs. I ran my fingers through them, slow and greedy, feeling the muscle beneath, the warmth of his skin. His armpit scent hit me, fresh yet primal, and I buried my face there, inhaling deep, dizzy with lust.

“Fuck, Tom,” I groaned, his gravelly voice echoing off the tiles.

I stepped to the sink, facing the mirror. Tom’s face stared back: blond hair mussed from my touch, blue eyes wild with my hunger, stubble glinting under the harsh light. I leaned closer, tracing his jaw, feeling the grit of his beard, my lips curling into his smirk. My hands dropped lower, unzipping his trousers, freeing his cock: heavy, thick, framed by blond curls. I gripped it, stroking slow, savoring its weight, its heat, as it swelled in my hand, my eyes locked on his reflection.

As I pumped faster, a jolt hit me, not just pleasure but something deeper. Flashes of Tom’s life erupted in my mind, vivid and unbidden. I froze, shocked, realizing the truth: the more intense the sensation in a borrowed body, like an orgasm, the more I could unlock its memories, its essence, making it easier to impersonate my host. 

My hand sped up, and the visions poured in: Tom’s NTAC training, hand-to-hand combat in a gym, his body slick with sweat; interrogating 4400 suspects, his voice sharp and commanding; his failed marriage, bitter fights with his ex, Linda, her tears as he walked away; lonely nights in his apartment, jerking off in bed, his grip tight and practiced.

I adjusted my hold on his cock, fingers shifting instinctively, mimicking that memory, and gasped. I was jerking Tom’s cock exactly as he liked it, muscle memory guiding me, the pleasure so raw, so perfect, it overwhelmed me. His life was mine to steal, piece by piece.

The intensity built, my hand a blur, visions of Tom’s solitary nights merging with my own. I saw him sprawled on his sheets, blond hair damp, his hairy chest heaving as he worked himself, and I matched it, stroking harder, my other hand clawing his thighs, pinching his nipples.

“Tom, you’re wasting your life” I moaned, his voice breaking, the pleasure too much, the memories too vivid. “but I could make you so much better!” I couldn’t hold it, my thoughts and his powerful body, a furnace of desire, and I came, a shattering climax.

Cum erupted, hot and thick, splattering the stall, and I’d moan his name, my stolen voice low and rough. I scooped it up, licking it off my fingers, tasting him: salty, sharp, mine.

I cleaned up, rebuttoned his suit, and swapped back just as my old body stirred in the closet. Tom woke confused, rubbing his head, muttering about losing time. I played the concerned returnee, and he never suspected.

That taste wasn’t enough. I needed permanence. For months, I stalked him deeper, my obsession a living thing. I’d tail him to dive bars, watching him sip beer off-duty, tie loose, shirt unbuttoned to tease that smooth chest. I’d study his routines: NTAC briefings, jogs, late nights at his apartment, planning my move. 

My own life frayed; I barely ate, barely slept, consumed by visions of Tom’s body, his badge, his life. I jerked off nightly to stolen memories of his skin, his scent, his power, but it only sharpened my hunger. I needed him forever...

—

One rainy night, I struck. Tom was at a dive bar, nursing a beer, his dress shirt open enough to show that perfect chest. I approached, playing the desperate 4400. “Agent Baldwin? Please help me! My ability’s out of control.”

His blue eyes narrowed, but he grunted, ever the hero, and offered to drive me to NTAC. In his car, I suddenly grabbed his wrist, power flaring, and instantly swapped us. My mind slammed into his body, a wave of heat and strength, while his jolted into mine, dazed and disoriented.

I blinked, adjusting to him: taller, leaner, solid. His hands gripped the wheel, big and calloused, blond hair dusting the knuckles. I flexed them, grinning at the power in every twitch.

“What the hell?” he rasped from my old body, voice weak and panicked. I glanced over, seeing my former self: pale, scrawny, forgettable, staring with Tom’s confusion. 

“Relax,” I said, his deep voice smooth, “it’s temporary.” 

A lie.

I drove to his apartment, adjusting myself constantly as an excuse to feel his muscles shift under his clothes, the shirt brushing his nipples.

Inside, I locked the door. He stumbled, demanding answers, still reeling in my old shell. I ignored him, peeling off his jacket, then his shirt, exposing the body I’d coveted for months. Broad shoulders, a powerful chest with a light dusting of blond hair, abs firm from years of work. I ran my hands over it, slow and possessive, savoring the coarse curls, the heat of his skin, the musky armpit scent rising sharp and clean.

“Stop that!” he barked, lunging at me in his stolen body. I shoved him back, his strength mine now, and pinned him to the wall, relishing the reversal.

“You don’t get it,” I growled, his voice rumbling in my throat. “Your body and life belong to me now.”

He fought, but he was weak in my old frame. I grabbed his throat, my throat now, and squeezed, Tom’s biceps flexing as his air cut off. His eyes widened, blue but trapped in my pale face, and he clawed at me, gasping, “Please…” 

He went limp, unconscious, and I tied him up with his own belt and a curtain cord, gagging him for good measure. My old body slumped, Tom’s mind locked inside, and I turned to the mirror, shedding the rest of his clothes.

Pants hit the floor, revealing Tom: naked, magnificent. Thick, hairy thighs, a heavy cock swinging between them, blond curls framing it. I gripped it, stroking slow, feeling it thicken in my hand: his hand. His scent, clean deodorant laced with musky sweat, filled my lungs, intoxicating. 

“Fuuck, Tom,” I moaned, his timbre echoing off the walls, “your body feels so good!”

I jerked harder, other hand roaming: tugging at the powerful pecs, pinching nipples, clawing at the meat of his ass. He stirred behind me, muffled groans through the gag, and I smirked, his smirk, watching him watch me defile his body. 

Cum erupted, thick spurts across his stomach, matting the blond hair. I scooped it up, licking it slow, tasting him: bitter, salty, mine.

I couldn’t keep him here. He’d ruin everything. So I acted. I dressed myself in Tom’s clothes, perfectly tailored to my body, and dragged him to his car, Tom’s strength making it easy. I drove through the night, rain lashing the windshield, crossing state lines to a corrupt rundown asylum in Idaho I’d researched. Tom woke halfway, thrashing against the bonds, screaming through the gag, but no one heard. At dawn, I pulled up, flashing Tom’s badge, my badge now. 

“Agent Tom Baldwin, NTAC,” I said, his voice calm and authoritative. “This man’s a maniac and a danger to society. He’s completely unstable and claims he’s me. I suggest you diagnose him with Dissociative Identity Disorder and lock him up for good!”

They bought it. Tom, in my old body, was dragged inside, still shouting, “I’m the real Tom Baldwin!”

The staff nodded, sedatives ready, dismissing him as delusional. I signed the papers with Tom’s signature, practiced for weeks, and left, never looking back. He’d rot there, drugged and forgotten, while I claimed his life. I drove back to Seattle, the sun rising over the Cascades, Tom’s blue eyes reflecting a world now mine.

—

Back in his apartment, my apartment, I shed his clothes, the shirt stiff with dried sweat, the suit crumpled from the long drive. I cranked the shower, steam filling the small bathroom, and stepped under the spray, hot water cascading over Tom’s body. His blond hair darkened, slick against his scalp, and I ran my hands through it, feeling the coarse strands. I lathered his smooth chest, fingers brushing the nipples, the soap suds trailing down his tight abs, his strong thighs.

I explored every inch: his broad shoulders, knotted from tension; his lean biceps, flexing as I scrubbed; his heavy cock, thickening under my touch. I lingered there, stroking slow, testing its weight, its heat, moaning softly in Tom’s gravelly voice. The shower was a baptism, washing away the last traces of my old self, sealing me in his skin.

I toweled off, droplets clinging to his powerful chest, and stood before the mirror, Tom’s reflection a vision of power: blond hair tousled, blue eyes fierce, stubble sharp against his jaw. I flexed his arms, watching the muscle shift, then lifted an arm, burying his nose in his pit, the musky scent grounding me.

Naked, I sprawled across his bed, the sheets cool against his warm skin, and surrendered to the hunger. I gripped his cock, stroking it firm, my other hand roaming: rubbing his hairy calves, squeezing his thick quads, then slipping lower. I moaned, Tom’s voice deep and raw, “Fuuuck, you’re so tight, Tom,” as I slid two fingers into his ass, the tight warmth clenching around them, a new spark of pleasure igniting.

I worked myself furiously, fingers pumping, cock throbbing under my palm, the intensity unlocking more memories, vivid as dreams. I saw Tom briefing NTAC, his voice steady as he outlined a 4400 case, agents hanging on his words; bantering with Diana in the office, her laugh warm as he teased her about her coffee; hugging Kyle tight, his nephew’s arms around his waist, a rare moment of family. 

The sensations deepened, my fingers curling inside, and another memory hit, sharp and intimate: Tom that morning, showering in this same apartment, steam thick, his hands lathering his body, then dressing in his perfect suit, adjusting the tie, inspecting himself in the mirror with a nod of approval. I saw his reflection as he did, his blond hair perfect, his blue eyes confident, his body a weapon of authority. That image, so vivid, so him, broke me.

“Oh Tom, your body is fucking perfect!” I gasped, his voice cracking, and came fiercely, a tidal wave of cum, hot and thick, splattering my chest, matting his blond hair, soaking the sheets.

I lay there, a shuddering mess, sweat drenching Tom’s body, my body now. His post-orgasm haze wrapped me in him, his musky scent heavy in the air, his memories settling into my mind like keys to a kingdom. I licked the cum from my fingers, tasting him, and knew I was ready. I’d claimed Tom Baldwin in every way, his life mine to live, his perfect body mine to wield. I drifted, sprawled on his bed, the sheets damp, feeling invincible, prepared to step into his world tomorrow.

—

The months that followed were a perverse paradise. I lived as Tom Baldwin, my new life a seamless performance. I wore his suits, his badge, his authority, striding into NTAC with his blond hair neat, his blue eyes sharp. Diana clapped my shoulder, Kyle called me “Uncle Tom,” and I owned it, his grin my mask. But the nights were where I truly reveled, exploring the power of Tom’s body and badge in ways I’d only dreamed.

One evening, I leaned into it, testing the limits of my stolen identity. NTAC’s after-hours were quiet, but a few agents lingered, drawn to Tom’s charisma like moths to a flame. I’d noticed their glances: Agent Torres, a broad-shouldered man with a sly smile, and Agent Larson, a sharp-eyed woman whose gaze lingered on Tom’s chest. I invited them for drinks at a bar near NTAC, playing the charming Tom Baldwin, my badge glinting on my belt. Torres clapped my back, his hand lingering, and Larson smirked, her fingers brushing my arm. 

“You’re different, Baldwin, but better,” she teased, and I grinned, Tom’s grin, leaning into the role.

We ended up at my apartment, Tom’s apartment, whiskey flowing, the air thick with tension. I stood, loosening my tie, unbuttoning my shirt to reveal that powerful chest, blond curls catching the dim light. Larson’s eyes widened, Torres bit his lip, and I felt Tom’s power surge through me. 

“You ever wonder what it’s like with an NTAC agent?” I asked, his gravelly voice low, teasing. 

They didn’t hesitate. Larson’s slim hands found my pecs, fingers fondling my pecs, while Torres pressed against me, his beard grazing my stubble. I guided them to the bedroom, Tom’s strength effortless as I shed my suit, badge clinking on the nightstand.

Naked, I was a god. Tom’s lean body gleamed: hairy thighs, heavy cock swinging, blond curls framing it. Torres knelt, his mouth hot and eager, taking me deep as I groaned, Tom’s voice rumbling. Larson straddled me, her nails raking my chest, and I thrust into her, relishing the heat, the control. I switched between them, fucking Torres against the headboard, his moans muffled, then Larson on her back, her gasps sharp as I pounded, Tom’s cock thick and relentless. My hands roamed: tugging my own muscular pecs, inhaling my musky armpit scent, savoring every sensation. 

Cum erupted twice that night, first in Larson’s mouth, then across Torres’s stomach, matting my blond hair as I collapsed, spent, their bodies tangled with mine. Torres left at dawn while Larson stayed for some post-sex cuddles, no questions, just satisfied smiles, and I lay in Tom’s bed, his sweat and musk all over me, knowing I’d claimed his life in every way.

—

Then came the cure. A few months later, the NTAC cracked the 4400 secret: a serum to strip our powers, restore order. Returnees lined up, eager for normalcy, but I panicked. I realized my power was my weakness; one slip, one swap, and I’d lose Tom, his body, his life. I couldn’t risk it.

Late one night, I broke into NTAC’s lab, heart pounding in Tom’s lean chest. The serum glowed blue in its vial, a faint promise of freedom or ruin. I swiped it, drove home, and drew a bath, syringe in hand. Across the room, his reflection stared back in the bathroom mirror: rugged, blond, stubble sharp, blue eyes fierce.

I jabbed the needle into his arm, plunger down, a cold rush spreading through his veins. It hit fast: a tingling wave, then a hollow ache, like a cord snapping inside. My power vanished. I reached for it, that familiar spark, but found nothing. I was locked in Tom’s flesh, no way out.

His hands flexed, permanent now, his musky scent baked into my pores. I grinned, his grin, my grin. 

“No more playing pretend,” I muttered, voice low and final. “You’re mine forever, Tom.”

I ran my hands over his smooth chest, feeling the muscle, the reality of him, and laughed: a deep, triumphant rumble. I’d given up everything, my body, my life, my powers, to become him. No longer a 4400, I was NTAC agent Tom Baldwin, hunting and investigating others like me, my days filled with purpose, my nights with the perverse joy of his skin. Tom was gone, silenced in that asylum, and I lived his life, wore his body, reveled in his everything, forever.

[zzwezz]

IT’S JUST INTERGALACTIC POLITICS II

Read Pt 1

“Look out, Zellnor,” my Commander shouted. I winced as the intergalactic message was beamed into my host’s brain. “Paparazzi!”

It was too late, and wrong. It was the press and they were out for blood.

“Congressman! Congressman Michaels!” a sea of reporters shouted. I stopped in frustration gazing at the gym across the street.

I’m an elected official. I need to stop.

“Yes, good morning!” I said to the cameras, flashing the Congressman’s famous smile that won the South’s heart. Posing as an Earthly politician tried my nerves at times, but I had to admit I liked the power. (And thanks to his love of second helpings he made a spacious pod for a giant alien slug.)

A blonde reporter piped up, “Janet Tibley, KBTV News. What do you make of your primary opponent calling you a RINO?”

“What’s that?” I asked politely.

“A Republican in name only. Your opponent Mr. Tessman claims that after you were elected it’s almost as if you were a different person. You act the same, you say the same things, but your voting record says the opposite. You are a pro-choice, pro-LGBT, equal rights…”

I heard a crack of static while the reporter mouthed words. My commander chimed in with an update. “Velnar just confirmed. Your primary challenger, Harry Tessman, is one of us. A female, actually. She is from a rebel group and is working to dethrone you from this… Congress and lead the Republicans into the next World War! You must meet Velnar immediately or you will lose your chance to remove the threat. Ask for Harry’s trainer.. Jordan.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” I say, letting a little of the Congressman’s twang come through, then pat myself on the belly. “But I really must get to my workout.”

I dodge through the crowd, take the crosswalk like a respectable citizen, and push my way inside leaving the maelstrom outside. A peppy receptionist greets me at the front desk, “Hello Congressman!  We’ve been expecting you. Ready for your tour?”

She excitedly picks up a clipboard and attempts to lead me into the gym’s main floor. I can tell she’s over-the-moon with the chance to “walk and talk” with a famous and powerful politician. I glance at her clipboard. 

Attached is her resumé. But of course.

I clear my throat, “Actually I was hoping that Jordan…”

My eyes catch a striking Adonis with short tussled black hair, arms to kill for and a stubbled jaw that’s quick to smile. 

His intense laser-beam-like gaze betrays the soft smile that threatens the corners of his lips. Without moving closer, he raises his hand in a casual human greeting. My eyes scan the tanned ripples of vein and sinew framing his cutoff tank. I start to salivate at the idea of giving his pod a joyride from the inside, but this intergalactically corrupt Congressman I would settle for an impromptu worship session.

“Oh…” the receptionist says with a resigned sigh. I breeze past her broken spirit and toward the pod of my dreams.

Jordan claps his hands together and to my surprise, beaming with energy. “Welcome Congressman! Are you ready to take a look around and get started on your fitness journey!”

He extends a fist. Like a good human male, I bump it. It took me an embarrassing amount of time to learn how to do this.

“Aaaall right!” he exclaims. “Right this way.”

As he directs with one hand and places another on my back, I tremble at his touch. I feel his strength. His dominance. I know this is all an act, I know who he really is but he makes me nervous.

“Zellnor,” he says under his breath. “Good to see you. It’s been a millinnea.”

“Good to see you as well, Velnar,” I reply. “Your pod looks healthy.”

As we walk towards a strange looking fitness machine a trail of people pass. Each one checks him out as they pass. He intentionally pumps up his chest, enjoying the attention.

“He is, thank you.”

“And very energetic,” I added.

“Oh,” he muttered. “If you don’t like his personality, I can steal someone else’s.”

“No!” I say in a raised voice, stopping him. “Dumb frat-boy trainer is fine. It suits you.”

“Shut up.”

I notice the televisions on the wall broadcasting my last debate. Harry Tessman chopped me down like a fucking tree with his far right nonsense and now his “out of the blue” candidacy makes sense. He’s one of us. She’s one of us. And she’s here to destroy me.

“Where is she?” I ask. “Still here?”

“From now on, Congressman,” he says politely while demonstrating the chest press machine, “We need to use our proper name and genders. We are surrounded by ears.” Velnar ups the weight significantly and Jordan’s body handles it easily. God that fucker is strong!

“He is on an elliptical for about…” He stops pumping to check his watch. “Another 25 minutes.”

“Jesus, that’s intense, ” I moan. “Where should we wait for him?”

“Well it’s right after noon, so it’s perfect timing. We should head to the locker room and change you into something a little more…” his piercing brown eyes look me up and down with judgment, “Athletic.”

“Rude.”

“Harry might not be the strongest pod, but it will take two of us to take her down. We can’t take any chances.”

I sniff. “Okay but if the pod you chosen isn’t acceptable, I’m taking yours.”

He cocked his head with a vicious smile and stepped too close. “Just try it.”

———

As we step into the locker room Velnar slides back into Jordan’s excessively positive meathead character.

“Right on time, bro!” he shouts across the room with an amused laugh. “Show me the goods.”

My eyes rest on the object of Velnar’s attention and that object cockily pulls up his polo.

And OH. MY. GOD.

I freeze. I haven’t attempted to board a pod as big as this since Boris. I started salivating again.

“Looking strong, man!” Velnar chimed. “Get changed. I gotta special preworkout shake for you before you hit the weights. I’ll change your life.”

“Cool man, thanks,” the giant said with a gentle smile as he turned to his locker.

Velnar bent down and unzipped a duffle bag in the corner and pulled out a protein shaker. 

I hissed into his ear, “We can’t take down someone that size! It’s too risky!”

“Don’t worry, I gotta plan.” I watched Jordan’s lips say as Velnar led me to the handicap bathroom. “Plus he trusts me,” he added with a grin. “I’m a trainer.”

As we enter the bathroom Velnar locks the door and removes the lid off of the shaker bottle and hands it to me. I hear the liquid in it slosh. “All right, big boy. Shoot.”

I sniff the bottle.

“Salt water,” he informs me. “Neutralizes the liquid metal the Congressman’s cock shoots out keeping it in liquid form. Paul Bunyan out there drinks it and BOOM. An exoskeleton shoots through his body and he is the easiest pod you have ever taken. Not bad for a dumb jock, right?”

“Not bad,” I assure him with a frown as I stare into the cup.

“What’s wrong? Can’t get it up?” he asks.

“I need a little… the Congressman always needs a little coaxing.”

I watch Velnar arch Jordan’s eyebrow then say with a smirk, “I can manage that.”

He pushes me up against the wall and forces his hand down the Congressman’s slacks. He starts to jerk me as he forces his tongue into my mouth. I try to focus on the sensations of his dense, rippling frame as it presses into mine… but nothing happens.

Jordan’s phone begins to vibrate.

“Goddamnit,” he says furiously, pulling his hand out of my pants and digging into his pocket for his phone.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter as I look at his Jordan’s menacing figure. “It’s just Jordan’s personality is so dominant. Rough. And the Congressman likes to be in control. He gets off on attention. Worship.”

“Typical politician,” Velnar mutters as he answers the phone. I can hear the gym’s receptionist on the line, that poor girl that just wanted a little of the Congressman’s time. “Yes Gina, the Congressman is fine. We’re in the locker room and he’s wants to start his first session right away.”

Suddenly Velnar’s eyes met mine and he mouths silently, “I have an idea.”

—–

“Gina,” Velnar calls out in the middle of the gym floor. She turns from the desk and looks toward him questioningly.

“Come here,” he commands with a snap of the fingers in typical dom-jock fashion. He doesn’t move a muscle forcing her to come to him. As she cautiously approaches he urges her to come closer. 

“There’s something I need from you…” he trails off as she approaches him, confused. He suddenly grabs her and gives her a sloppy kiss. Her eyes roll back as people in the gym start to hoot and holler, cheering on one of their favorite trainers, not noticing the sliver of exoskeleton shot from his finger through her ear.

He closed his eyes as he probed her brain, I eyelids fluttering as he photocopied her personality. As he walked away from Gina brandishing a dazed smile, I noticed a slight swish in his step.

———-

Velnar meekly led me back into the bathroom and locked the door with a click, I determined to look at him and ONLY see the Jordan, the hot personal trainer, and not think about the slug controlling him. At least until I got off. 

Looking toward the protein shaker with dread, it seemed to grow about two sizes larger. 

Okay. 

Only see Jordan. Only see Jordan. Only see Jordan.

Just then I heard something I didn’t expect. A giggle.

“Sorry,” Jordan said quietly, “I just get so nervous. I’m standing in front of a Congressman.”

His angular cheeks flushed as his eyes fell to the floor. “Congressman Benjamin Michaels.”

Fuck. He is wearing Gina’s stolen personality like a fucking scarf.

Suddenly his eyes met mine. They were softer, vulnerable. “Can I admit something?” he asked, his massive frame swaying gently. 

“Anything,” I gasped, licking my lips, watching his chest twitch, then my gaze travelling up the slope of his stubble covered adam’s apple, then his strong cleft chin, then finally his bottom lip that he nervously bites.

He gets close. Too close. 

“I have jerked off to you so many times while you were on television. Like… SO many times.”

Then I catch my own gaze in the mirror and realized, “I am fucking Congressman Benjamin Michaels.” Then I gave into the fantasy… or better yet… the reality. As I watched Jordan’s thick boner grow in his black basketball shorts I realized that Velnar no longer had control. He had given it to his newly submissive human. So I let the Congressman take over and became a voyeur through all of his seven senses.

“Get on your knees, faggot,” the Congressman demanded in a low growl.

“Yes, okay,” the personal trainer mumbled. More nervous. More awestruck. 

The Congressman’s underwear started to feel tight.

“Yes, what?” the Congressman demanded.

“Sir?” Jordan asked fearfully, slumping his shoulders a bit.

“Congressman. Yes, Congressman,” the Congressman and I insisted in unison. 

Our underwear got tighter.

“Yes Congressman,” Jordan mumbled, his eyes started to beg. “I want to get out of this gym. Work for you. Cater to you. I’ll be your assistant. Your personal trainer. Whatever you need.”

The Congressman towered over the cowering Adonis. His stiffening cock slid up his waist band with the tip leaking human precum onto his pristine white shirt.

“What I need,” the Congressman forced through his gritted teeth as he grabbed a handful of the personal trainer’s hair and pulled, “What I need is a little fuckboy. Can you be that for me?”

“I can,” Jordan moaned as he stroked himself during through his basketball shorts. “Oh, fuck, that’s all I want Congressman. You tell me who you want me to be and use this muscle boy however you see fit.”

The Congressman unbuckled his belt as I took over, unable to help myself. I  pulled off my belt and laid this former alpha jock pussyboy over the toilet.

I brought the belt down hard on his ass and listened to him hiss in pleasure. I watched the reflection of the Congressman, my political puppet, smile in glee as he stroked himself and struck the submissive hulk again. Republican. Family man. Secret liberal homosexual tool.

“Fucking use me, daddy,” Jordan moaned, sending me over the edge.

I feel the familiar rush as liquid metal fills the Congressman’s balls.

“The cup! The cup! The cup!” Valnar stammers as I feel the edge of the protein shaker pushed against my dick.

Suddenly there are sharp knocks at the door and a heavy New Jersey accent calls, “Whaddafuck yas doin’ in there? I gotta take a shit!”

The knocking continues as I stick the tip of my hard-on into the saltwater and forcefully shoot into it. 

“Fuck!” I declare after a victorious sigh. I look into the cup and true to Valnar’s word, the liquidized metal floats on the surface.

“HURRY DA FUCK UP!” the booming voice shouts, still beating on the door.

I look to Valnar to tell him his planned worked then realize his body is on the floor seizing. His eyes roll back as his strong hips thrust into the air. 

He’s gone too far. An overload of alien testosterone has invaded his human’s body. He has to shoot. He can’t hold it in. And without a human container to store it in his pod will take months to manufacture a new one.

The voice outside calls again, “YOUS MOUTHAFU–”

I yank open the door and pull the dumb meathead in. He looks at me in confusion.

“Congressman?”

I one foul swoop I pull his jeans down to his ankles.

“Da fuck?” he mutters, shocked as I push him down on the floor.

His thick frame lands on his stomach with a heavy THUD as Valnar’s hands find the Dumb Meathead’s arm and uses the personal trainer’s weight to pin him to the ground.

He uses his full-force to plunge the Jordan’s horse cock deep into the Dumb Meathead’s ass and his sharp cry is cut off by liquid splicing through his body. 

Valnar rolls off of him and catches his breath as an alien exoskeleton takes shape and hardens under the Dumb Meathead’s skin. With a crack the new ridge on his back split open and this rude asshole is officially a pod ready to be boarded.

Valnar looks up at me sheepishly as I raise an eyebrow. “It-it was my pl-plan all along,” he stammers between gulps of air.

“Really?” I ask.

“No,” he laughs. “Not really. A new vessel for the fight ahead is a good thing,” he looks down the wide cavernous back of his new home on the floor, “Seeing as how we pussyfied this one. His new personality is going to take weeks to wear off, he’s no good to us now.”

“Correction,” I reply while screwing on the lid to the dosed shaker bottle. “You can play in your new warrior after the everyone’s favorite personal trainer gives this awesome new pre-workout to my new warrior.”

And as the new, softer Jordan leaves the restroom I lock the door behind him. I think about the brute I’m about to board outside and feel my heart flutter. 

[zzwezz]

Robbie by vchris1989

Earth is quite a strange planet. I thought this to myself as I rolled around, trying to avoid detection. You see, my aircraft was shot down by this planet’s aerial missile defense. Most planets on my team’s surveillance route are quite primitive. The last time Earth was surveyed, maybe five hundred years ago, the species was still using sharpened metal instruments as the primary offensive and defensive tools. I didn’t think I would even need my craft with the plasma shield—it’s harder to control, so it’s rarely my first choice—But as a sophisticated homing missile of some sort blew me out of the sky, it’s safe to say I was having second thoughts…

Thankfully, I was saved by the life support systems. Being amorphous in shape, congealed myself out of the emergency safety hatch, activating the self-destruct sequence before wandering into what appeared to be a residential zone of some type. Loud noises and bright lights flashed by me, headed straight towards my crash site. Between our plasma disintegration technique and our acid secretion failsafe, they were not going to find anything. I just hope my teammates know to come looking for me though because the self-destruct will deactivate my homing beacon. Sure, my travel logs are on file, but even if they started for Earth right now, it would take them over three earth weeks.

For now, I needed to blend. I never thought that my survival training would actually be put to the test, but that’s the only way I was going to survive this strange world. You see, my species is amorphous and capable of cellular integration. Basically, our cells are able to integrate into the nervous system of less advanced beings, seamlessly blending in and giving us full control. The word on this planet would be “possession.” I needed to find a host fast because that ability was my only practical survival or defense mechanism.

The sun of this galaxy appeared to be rising. Based on my research, this meant that the majority of the species would still be inactive before exiting daily dormancy. I didn’t have time to explore host options, so I quickly found a cracked window and entered the domicile.

There I found a specimen—it was bizarre seeing the individual in stasis since my species does not require sleep to survive. This would make my job easier though as the process took more than just a few seconds.

This individual, my soon-to-be-host, was sprawled out in bed. Based on my research I could tell this was a male human. He was not wearing clothing, so his bare body was resting under his blue sheets. This is where my memory got a little foggy since I always dozed off in the entry-point simulation part of training. I could never remember what they said was the quick and easy orifice since these bizarre creatures had so damn many. We have zero because our biology has reached the pinnacle of efficiency, so holes aren’t even something I ever have to worry about. But this poor inferior species…his experience would vary greatly depending on which entry point I chose.

Here goes nothing, I thought to myself as I climbed onto his bed, collecting my mass and trying to remember.

Was it the anus? No that’s not right. But the nose? No-no way. It…It has to be either the mouth or the penis. I think it’s supposed to be…the penis!

I was sure that I got it right as I rolled over to his hip, slowly working my way up his naked body. The vessel shivered as my body made contact, but he stayed asleep. I tried my best to hone in on his penis which was conveniently resting on his lower torso. I didn’t even pay much attention to his features because I was so worried about acquiring this host.

Without any second thoughts, I began pushing forward against the opening, stretching it slightly as I entered him like a gentle, yet steady stream of fluid. I got quite disoriented as I felt the tunnel around me elongate and elevate slightly. I’m not quite sure what was happening, but it made me panic and surge into my host as fast as I could.

Robbie’s eyes shot wide open as he felt a powerful sensation radiating from his crotch. He couldn’t help but gasp out loudly as he saw a strange gelatinous fluid squirming and forcing itself in his dick. He could feel it surging into his piss slit. The sensation brought incredible discomfort, but that was all masked by a never-before-experienced pleasure as the creature’s entry stimulated nerve endings in ways Robbie never thought possible.

Time was of the essence as I sensed the human waking up. Not wasting any time, I went even faster, literally pouring into his body through his narrow orifice. His appendage was standing straight up. My form enveloped his organ, slowly receding upwards as more of me entered him.

“Aggggghhhhhh FUCK! No Please!” Robbie gasped as he tried to grab the strange creature’s form. The gel just slid through his fingers though, and he panicked as he squirmed in the bed, thrashing his naked body as he helplessly and defenselessly felt himself get entered and filled. He could feel the strange gel coursing through his body, moving underneath his skin…

Robbie went into survival mode as he grabbed his dick and blocked the entrance of his urethra with his thumb. The other gel was blocked from entering, making Robbie smirk triumphantly. He took deep breaths, relaxing as he forgot about the gel that had already entered him.

“What the?!” Robbie yelled as he felt his muscles moving against his will.

It started with lying back down. He had leaned forward as he got ready to head to the bathroom, but he felt his muscles relax and send him back down on his back. Robbie gulped as he predicted what was coming.

“No! God Shit! No!!” Robbie hollered as his thumb began to ease back…

I couldn’t blame my host for trying—I just found it entertaining how he thought he had won. Over half of my mass was already inside his body, giving me more than enough control over his muscle and central nervous systems to ease his grip.

His resistance level increased tremendously, but I persisted, forcing him to raise his thumb little by little until that orifice was visible again.

I rushed that opening again with the rest of my mass, surging into the narrow hole with such speed and force that my host yelped and went airborne as he hopped on the bed.

The human actually briefly took back control of his arms, but he was too overwhelmed to attempt another block. He just grabbed both sides of his bed, gripping the sheets tightly and writhing as I neared full entry. His toes were curling and his legs and thighs were squirming as the last of me finished forcing into him, sucking in with a wet slosh sound before the human made a noise like he had been punched in the gut. He collapsed like deadweight on the bed, making light groaning noises as he flopped like a fish every few seconds. At this point I knew my host had lost all primary nerve and motor functions. My mass was infiltrating him on the cellular level—binding and assuming full control. The last of his conscious awareness faded as I travelled up his brainstem, coating and taking over every cell of his brain.

I knew my host made one last twitch before every muscle seized from head to toe. He looked like he was having what the humans of Earth call a seizure before collapsing again—this time breathing calmly because I was in control and I was doing the breathing for him.

“Fascinating—Huh?! What?!” I said with astonishment as I grabbed my host’s throat, so surprised to hear my thoughts being expressed in human English while still feeling so natural.

My takeover of my host’s brain must have given me full access to his knowledge. Robbie. That was his name. I swear I was thinking in my native language, but the human English just flowed right out.

“My name is Robbie. I am an Earthling,” I said, satisfied with my impression before my host’s memories started slowly entering my memory bank.

It was an awe-inspiring experience as I realized just how inept my impression had been. Deeping a deep breath, I gave my best cocky half-smile before saying, “Hey. I’m Robbie. What’s up?” I was so calm and collected. Some of my host’s natural charisma shone through, and based on his confident memories I knew I had lucked out with an objectively attractive body.

“God damn I lucked out,” I marveled as I looked down at the body below me and recognized its hotness.

Instinct took over and I reached down, reveling in the sensation through Robbie’s stolen finger tips as I felt his robust body hair scratching against my exploring fingers. My hands slid over those pecs and abs, occasionally getting lost in the desire to squeeze, rub, and massage. I mean, I knew now how hard my host worked for this body, and that made the appendage I used earlier stand up straight again.

“Definitely wasn’t the fastest, but sure was interesting,” I said aloud as I grinned and curiously gripped my fingers around that bizarre organ.

My research informed me that this was what humans referred to as a “penis.” I didn’t know much else about it other than it served a reproductive function and gave a pleasurable response when stimulated. Curiosity got the best of me as I reached my borrowed human hands down and gently grabbed the half-hard penis in my grip.

It was strange though—that word no longer seemed like the right fit. Robbie’s knowledge was still blending with my own.

“Time to try out this cock,” I said with a confident smirk as I gently stroked it.

I immediately gasped in shock, feeling the strange sensation of air rushing into human lungs. My eyes shot wide open and I got a shiver through my whole body. I was scared to continue, but Robbie’s memories abated my fears. No—that was supposed to happen.

My grip tightened around my host’s cock again, this time with renewed confidence as the memories of Robbie’s technique entered my mind.

“Ohhhhhhh fuck yeah,” I groaned as I powered through the unfamiliarity of the sensation and built up to a steady pace, pumping my fully hard cock and running my host’s other hand all up and down his body.

My species is amorphous—physical form has no meaning to us, but in that moment I felt attractive. I felt desirable and strong. I…I felt like a sexy ass motherfucker.

“Oh shit that’s a nice body!” I growled as my mind accessed Robbie’s pride and vanity.

His hard-earned hours in the gym were something he was proud of, and in that moment as I caressed and stroked his hairy abs and squeezed his solid pecs, I felt it too.

This was simply amazing. I couldn’t help but give into the frenzy and desire as I thrust Robbie’s hips into the air. So much strength and so much stamina! Another memory came into my mind—apparently he enjoyed nipple stimulation.

I reached down and gently pinched his nipple, groaning out and feeling that cock twinge with excitement. More. I needed more. My fingers pinched even tighter.

“Oh fuck!” I yelped as a drop of precum globbed right out.

Tighter!

“Unnnnggg agggghhhh!” I hollered as I kept my grip on that nipple tight.

My back arched and my toes curled tightly as I kept squeezing tight. How could something feel that good? That wasn’t even the grand finale though…

I still didn’t have access to all of Robbie’s memories, so I faced a conundrum as I felt a pressure building up in my crotch area. This scared me since the more I stroked and thrust up, the greater the pressure got…but so did the pleasure and primal urge to go even harder and faster.

I hoped the memory would arrive, but it was too late.

My eyes shot wide open as my breathing picked up. My legs were squirming erratically as I kept pumping and pumping that meat. Oh my Fuck. This felt so dangerous. SO much pressure!

“Ohhhhhhhh FUCK!!! God Yeah!!!!” I screamed as a massive glob of fluid ejected from my cock’s opening.

I pumped more furiously than ever, milking out shot after shot of this strange fluid. It launched all over my body and all over the bed, but I didn’t care. Every muscle in my host’s body stiffened and tightened. I dug my host’s toes against the bed sheets and felt a rush of blood to my head as my back arched, seemingly on its own, and I proceeded to toss my head around, so over the moon from the pure rush.

That’s when the memory hit me—that was a human orgasm.

“Shit that was intense…” I spoke in “Robbie talk.”

I now knew that the intense pressure led up to the ejaculation—and that the ejaculation brought an ecstasy and euphoria that was beyond anything my species was physically capable of experiencing on our own. I spent the rest of that morning blissfully laying there in my host’s body, absorbing every last one of his memories.

The next few weeks would surely be enjoyable as I waited for my rescue. Especially since Robbie’s memories let me know an orgasm feels even better with your dick inside someone else. I couldn’t help but grin with my human face as I rubbed all along my strong and smooth body, working the cum in like lotion.

[zzwezz]

Star Origins

You know those scenes in movies when something from space falls and no one notices? Well that’s mostly true, unless it’s near a populated area, military base, or some government facility. Now this meteor that was being tracked through its descent due to NORAD’s concern about its trajectory placing it just outside of a population center. When impact was noted, fortunately far enough away from civilian attention, they requested that the base send someone to retrieve the the meteorite. The base didn’t think anything of it, requested that a member of law enforcement head to the impact zone and mark it off. Sheriff Anders was dispatched out and he blocked off the roads, and was waiting for the military to send someone out. He saw a car with license plates belonging to the base. A young man climbed out, he had the markings of a sergeant. Anderson reached out to him in greetings.

“Good evening, I’m Sheriff Anders”

The man took his hand and shook it, “Sergeant Thomason, have you blocked off the area?”

“Of course sir. Are they only sending you?”

“The higher ups didn’t see a need to send anyone else for a simple retrieval.”

With that, the two man set out on foot to the impact site. Once they saw the trees that collapsed from the impact, and the displaced dirt, they knew that they were at the right location. Reaching the edge of the crater, they saw the surprising small meteor, roughly the size of mini-cooler. Thankfully it rained, so it looked cool enough to touch and move.

“Looks like it’ll take the both of us to move it, Anders”

“Alright, let’s get it out of there.”

The two men climbed down, and started to get ready to move the meteorite out. Both of them failed to notice faint pulsing from the meteorite, and as soon as the two touched the rocky surface, an electric surge stunned the both of them, causing them to collapse onto the ground. From the cracks on the surface, a glowing ichor flowed out and began slithering into the collapsed mens’ mouths. Their throats bulged as the alien substance moved in, and when the substance fully entered, the men convulsed on the ground until they stopped. They both got up, feeling their bodies, almost as if they weren’t used to the muscles. They looked at each other.

“These... humans... are acceptable for... now,” said what used to be Thomason, “but more are needed.”

The former Anders simply nodded, “The memories of these host show potential breeding sites. The base and college have prime targets for assimilation.”

“Fortunately we landed in males, biologically designed for insertion and spreading of our essence.”

The two “men” then pulled the meteorite out of the crater and and used the tools that were in the sheriff’s and sergeant’s vehicles to break the meteorite into halves. The two men began driving to their targets. During their drives, they began to process their host’s memories and began to mimic their personalities.

Thomason’s on base housing was closer than the barracks, so that’s where he went. He began to walk around the home, exploring his base of operations at he moment, when he decided to stip.

A muscular body that the host had worked hard to earn and maintain. Thomason couldn’t help but smile. He put on a vest that was nearby.

“Primitive protection, our biology is superior.” But he simply chuckled as he flexed in the mirror. Thinking to himself where he would begin the assimilation here on base.

Anders was driving back to town when he saw his host’s cell phone on its stand in the dashboard. He reached for it and took a picture of himself.

This caused him to feel joy about himself, apparently Anders enjoyed showing off himself in this manner. So he pulled over and took off all the clothes on his upper body and took another picture.

Driving back topless, Anders couldn’t help but feel smug about himself. His host was young and knew some the guys at the college, so he smiled as he thought about who he’d take first.

TBC

[zzwezz]

Back due to popular demand

Check Up Series

Agent J. Kowalski

"So, why do I have the honor to be visited by you mid-duty, Lex? Didn't I get your clearance for no more check-ups a couple months ago?"

"Don't Lex me you smug son of a bitch. Why the fuck you branched out into my older cousin? Didn't the Commander already tell you about my family's immunity?

"Which one is your older cousin?"

"Stan, the police officer you branched into 2 weeks ago,"

"Stan? Hmmm.....Lex, you have to be more specific, I branched into the entire academy 2 weeks ago, so what did he do in the academy if he's already an Officer?"

"How would I know. All I know is my cousin suddenly flashed himself to me when we were in a room during a family function. But wait, iss it the entire academy you branched into? How the fuck you did that?"

"I jacked off my form into the building's water system, set a fire to turn the sprinkler on and well, the rest is history. Your cousin is just at the wrong place at the wrong time, to be honest,"

Alexander sighed. This invading alien clearly got a point, but it sucks to witness his own family turned into one of the puppet's in the alien's grand scheme of things

Ricardas Gerulaitis

"Yeah, sorry, gotta loosen up first before I can fill your beaker bro,"

He was in the middle of his workout when I came into the gym he owned. Yes, he owned it, it's a family establishment and by possessing his dad, soon after, the alien took over the business partner aka his uncle and then it passed down across the entire male branch of the family. Ricardas is the oldest son and the one in charge of several chain in this particular state

"Okay, should be ready now, can you try to fit my meat into the beaker? I want to ensure that I dropped nothing, it's just me being OCD as fuck, you know?"

"Yes, I know, Rich. Now, if you can get your dick a little bit softer so I can squeeze it first so it can fit into the mouth of this beaker. I know you love the suction so I'll let you enlarge that cock when this thick mushroom head of yours already pushed through,"

Juri Gerulaitis

"You are still the same horny fucktards that you are huh? Follow me, not gonna cum into that test tube of yours in front of my students here,"

Lex gingerly smiled at the sight around him. All 13 men splattered out in the mattress after an intense boxing session while the 2 that just finished the fight still laid in the ring. All of them got the cum streak in their face, courtesy of their own Coach, Juri, for a training well done. They are out of breath but their face dopey, the endorphin and the testosterone really running high as they are still leaking cum through their sweat-and-cum-stained boxing shorts. Lex already made it a routine to receive Juri's potent and endorphin-fueled seed everytime he returned to check on the Gerulaitis'. And this time is no exception, as Juri also quickly recharged his cum storage in his bullnuts thanks to his alien metabolism. That thick 9 incher Lithuanian cock of his will certainly spew massive amount of thick, creamy cum and just like the rest of the Gerulaitis, Juri hated if his cum went to waste so he made sure to dump 90% of his load into Lex's horny hole and save the rest for the beaker.

Matt Spokesman, Gaurav Gupta and Joseph Sidaoui

"Glad you came, now if you excuse me, may I broadcast you to all my close friends that already craved your visit? They cannot wait to welcome you in their mansion and villas, they really appreciate the insight you gave to the three of us to make our species built into their property," said Matt, the one holding his phone

Lex just smiled victoriously. These three are some of the most sought-after architect and they specialized in experimental houses and other private and custom-made residence for the rich. Surely with their engineering background and the intellectual drive from the extraterrestrial species that possessed them, making their own species built into those property is surely not a hard task to do

Charles Colver

"Still amazed on how you told those architect to latch a tiny seed of their species into the bottom of this cup. And then all those well-thought off placement of the tiny alien seeds that caused gradual takeover. Really subtle and smart. I love how he slowly lose control of himself and he just cannot fight it any longer. Did you watch the video when I finally lost it? I was on the bed after tucking my son to sleep. Now that little rascal already stocked the alien seeds within him and by the time he's 18, he's gonna lose control of himself and finally I'll have a son that fully understands me. For now, I'll let him enjoy his last shred of humanity,"

Takeshi Fujiwara and Ryuichi Hashimoto

"You wanna see how we plant the alien seeds? Like......and you flew all the way to Japan just for that? You know you can just ask for a video,"

"Well, I want to see it up close and in real time. So show me, boys. How do you do that and how is it different from the one practiced by the SGS firm as the pioneer of "alien installation". And do consider this as a show of attention from the global leaders about your unique and yet practical expansion to Japan's richest and most powerful,"

"Well, if you insist----"

[zzwezz]

The first time Karran joined the gym, He only wanted to be able to get girls attention with his body.

But after his first brainwashing session at Master’s gym, his want is irrelevant. His master is now the puppeteer of his free will. Planting his commands into his subconscious.

He thought him stopping spending time hanging out with his friends flirting on the girl he liked and used all his free time in the gym is his idea. He thought taking the supplements only labeled with weird emblem from his trainer is his idea. He thought growing out his beard, hair, and body hair is his idea. He thought stopping using deodorant is his idea. He thought stopping masturbating is his idea.

But, he thought of nothing of how his time in the gym seems like it’s pass by like a blur. As he walk into the gym and with a blink of the eyes he walk out soaked in sweat, looking at his watch a few hours have passed. It feels completely normal to him.

As the time passed, the master have molded him, body and mind, to his desire via the hand of his service slave known to unsuspecting Karran as his fitness trainer.

After Karran receive the call from his master and given his trigger. He isn’t thought of anything anymore, only obedience to his god master. The white van arrived at his front yard shortly after. Karran steps in and give the naked service slaves a kiss on the master’s emblem tattoo as a sign of his completely enslaved mind.

They stripped him and strapped him in the same kind of machine that enslaved him since he join the gym. The service slave sanitized his chests for tattoo, his dick for the sheath, and his ass for the plug.

The goggles lower into its eyes. The tube lock with its sheath, another one at its hollow plug. Ready for its brainwash session for the entire ride and many more to come.

When it set foot the master’s domain, naked, sheathed dick always hard and proud on the master’s land. It bares the same mark of the master’s ownership over it over its heart just like all of its brethren slaves. The other slaves lead it to the master estate where it lie down and spread its hole for the master to inspect his property and give its final marking on its chests, its real name.

It thought of noting while it waits for its master’s judgement. As he gropes and sniff its undeodorized body, muscled to his demand. As its moan in ultimate lust and pleasure of the highest form of servitude as the master pull off its plug and fuck it raw. Its moan are only silenced by the master‘s mouth over its own. He demanded its mouth to also serve his so it must be. After a while the master have baptized it with his holy nectar deep inside its body, the master have approved it of it’s sexual service so it will have “P” as a part of its rank. It didn’t cum, the master didn’t command it. It feels nothing as its need are irrelevant.

After the master are done and leave for his more important business, SP-0001, the head of service slave come to clean things up and plug it ass back in, keeping his holy nectar deep inside its body. SP1 inform me that it will join SP1 as Master’s estate servant. SP1 pull out a tattoo gun from its utility belt to complete its marking. SP-0095 tattooed below the master insignia. SP95 stood up, its chests puffed proudly. It bow down to give SP1 a tongue kiss on the master’s insignia on its chest as a proper greeting and gratitude for finally properly marking it as one of the master’s property. SP1 dick twitch as SP95’s tongue travel along the intricate lines of the master’s mark on its skin, reminding of its enslavement to the master.

SP1 return the greeting and grab SP95 by its dick, lead it to the slave quarters for a proper estate servant uniform, a black combat boot and black utility belt with nothing else except it’s sheath and plug.