Husband In A Cowboy

Switch Up: Primer Nivel

ADVERTENCIA DE CONTENIDO: Esta historia incluye temáticas de transformación y control de cuerpos con un enfoque sugerente. Si este tipo de narrativa no es de tu agrado o no cumples con la edad recomendada, te sugerimos no continuar. Todas las imágenes utilizadas (si las hay) pertenecen a sus respectivos dueños. No reclamo ninguna autoría sobre ellas y solo se usan con fines ilustrativos.

Si decides seguir adelante, bienvenido a Possessed Desires, donde la mente y el cuerpo nunca están completamente bajo tu control.

Switch Up: Primer Nivel [ Versión Español ]

Mi nombre es Ethan, voy a terminar la preparatoria en unos meses y siento que no viví esa experiencia como tenía que hacerlo. Siempre me la pase con mis dos amigos de siempre, sin ir a fiestas, ni siquiera di mi primer beso, me la pasaba en las sombras, cómo un fantasma.

Sin nada en particular para que me recordarán, un cero a la izquierda.

Muy distinto a otros tipos de mi escuela: populares, musculosos, guapos, un éxito en las fiestas. Los envidiaba.

Quería ser uno de ellos con toda mi fuerza.

Pasar más allá de ser una sombra que se confundía con la pared de los pasillos, ser como uno de esos grandes deportistas, chicos populares, incluso aquellos con pinta de "malos" que por eso parecían ser furor.

— Esto apesta – murmuré en la biblioteca, acompañado de mis amigos: Logan y Miles.

Logan era un chico regordete, con algunos granos en su rostro y aficionado a los cómics, justo en ese momento parecía absorto de todo mientras tenía la cabeza oculta dentro de un nuevo tomo de héroes.

— ¿Estar en la biblioteca? – preguntó Miles. Delgado, pálido y con unos lentes gruesos qué hacían parecer sus ojos unos binoculares, era un genio, aunque tenía un extraño siseo cada que hablaba.

— Sí, ¿qué hay de las fiestas? Es la preparatoria, tendríamos que estar haciendo otras cosas que estar recluidos en una biblioteca como ratas.

— No somos populares para esa clase de cosas – Logan musitó, apenas asomando la cabeza de su lectura.

— Además de que nadie nos nota – Miles complemeto, haciendo lo que parecían ser garabatos en su libreta.

— ¿Y eso no les frustra? ¿No quisieran tener más? Tener más experiencias, más diversión, chicos a sus pies.

Algo que se me había olvidado mencionar, los tres somos gays.

— ¿Y sirve imaginar eso?... No vas a cambiar nada con anhelar más – Logan susurró con tono pesimista.

Suspiré, sabía que tenía razón. Sólo me quede callado, con un silencio entre los tres hasta que Miles se levantó de golpe, con una sonrisa en sus labios.

— ¡Eureka! – grito con la libreta en mano, se escuchó un fuerte "Shhh" por parte de la bibliotecaria, a lo que él volvió a sentarse, pero sin borrar aquella sonrisa.

— ¿Te sientes bien? – pregunté. A lo que me interrumpió, hablando rápido por su emoción.

— Mejor que nunca, estuve sintiendo lo que describes desde hace tres años, ha sido prueba tras error, experimentos fallidos tratando de encontrar la forma de lograrlo, pero al fin lo tengo.

— ¿De qué rayos hablas?

— ¡Esto! – extendió su libreta, enseñándome el contenido en ella. Lo que antes vi cómo garabatos, ahora tenía sentido: eran planos. Había todo un esquema detallado de una especie de caja rectangular, con fórmulas, cálculos y demás símbolos que no podía entender del todo.

— ¿Una... caja?

— Es un control remoto. O al menos eso parece – detalló, señalando el esquema – es un control bio eléctrico, está diseñado para lanzar una señal doble que intercambie los pulsos neuronales entre dos individuos y-

— En español, Miles.

— Es un control que permitiría cambiar conciencias entre dos cuerpos.

Me quedé pensativo en lo que decía. Pero era imposible, ¿no? Lo que él describía parecía perfectamente algo de las películas de ciencia ficción.

— Pero aun te faltaría armarlo, diseñar las piezas, el cableado...

— No – dijo, rebusco en su mochila algo para sacar un pequeño control remoto, parecía de una cochera. Con dos botones: uno verde y otro amarillo – sólo tenía que completar unos cálculos.

A un lado, parecía tener una perilla, alrededor tenía distintos números. Miles levantó la tapa para mover un par de cables o unirlos entre sí, después la cerró y movió la perilla, en busca de una frecuencia, supongo.

— Aún así, no creo que sea algo posible, es decir... Creo en ti, amigo, sin duda eres un genio pero creo que está clase de cosas rebasan...

— Tus capacidades mentales, Miles – y de la nada, quien hablaba parecía ser Logan. Con el único detalle, de que no era Logan en realidad, sino yo.

Me encontré mirando viñetas, héroes salvando al mundo y cosas que estaba leyendo mi amigo antes.

Me sentí más pesado, pero había algo raro en todo esto también... sentía distinto el peso en mis pantalones.

Abrí un poco las piernas, sintiendo cómo algo grueso caía contra la silla. ¡Carajo, Logan si que tenía algo escondido entre sus piernas regordetas!

Levanté con temor la mirada, encontrando mi reflejo revisando sus pectorales.

Los miraba curioso, pasando sus manos por la superficie plana mientras sonreía.

— ¿Decías algo, Ethan? – Miles dijo con una sonrisa burlona en sus labios. Mire mis nuevas manos, completamente sorprendido por la experiencia. Eran muy distintas a las mías, un poco más de pigmento en ellas, más grandes y voluminosas, con dedos pequeños y gordos. Sin duda no era el mejor cuerpo pero había algo en mí que envío una carga de sangre allá abajo. Y sí que "eso" era grande.

— ¿Nos acabas de usar como conejillos de indias? – Mi antigua voz sonó, era extraño "verme" ahí, claramente era yo, mi mismo rostro, ropa, complexión, absolutamente era todo yo. Pero la posición, el lenguaje corporal, su forma de hablar... sin duda era Logan.

— Fue un riesgo que estaba dispuesto a correr por nosotros, además. Ya había calculado los peligros, no hubiera pasado nada.

— ¿Y por qué no lo probaste en ti?

— ¿Y qué mi consciencia hubiera terminado en el aire quien sabe dónde? No gracias.

Sentí un poco de molestia hacia Miles. Pero todo eso era... espectacular. Si había funcionado en nosotros, entonces todo se podía.

¡Podía ser cualquier deportista! Un representante de la clase, alguno de esos chicos artísticos o del comité de bienvenida, un profesor, algún padre sexy. ¡Quién fuera!

— ¿Y ahora?...

— Primero déjame intentar algo – Miles volvió a apuntar a cada uno de nosotros, primero a Logan, presionando el botón amarillo, y finalmente a mí, presionando en botón verde.

No sentí nada. Sólo fue de un momento a otro observarme a mí y al otro, observar a Logan. Volví a tocar mi cuerpo, sintiendo un poco más de alivio al encontrarme con mis medidas correctas. Aunque había un detalle, mi masculinidad sin duda estaba rígida, casi cómo una roca.

Observé a Logan confundido, a lo que sólo se levantó de hombros.

— Fue emocionante perder casi todo mi peso en menos de un segundo, perdón.

Hubo otra vez silencio entre nosotros. No por la incomodidad, sino por todo lo que implicaba esto.

— ¿Y ahora?...

— Ahora eligen que hacer, claro – Miles se acomodó en su asiento, casi parecía una especie de CEO proponiendo una nueva estrategia comercial – Sí seguir en sus cuerpos y en la miserable vida que llevamos, o encontrar algún cuerpo que les guste.

Hubo un poco de silencio. Y el primero en romperlo fue Logan.

— Hagamoslo.

— Genial, me alegra que ambos me acompañen en esto – una sonrisa cargada de confianza emergió de Miles – creo que ya tenemos el plan, pero ahora falta la pregunta del millón. ¿Quién?

Había al menos trescientos en toda la preparatoria, todos los grados, todos los clubes. Altos, musculosos, delgados, fornidos, de intercambio, locales, adinerados, clases medias. Era como entrar a un buffet.

— ¿Tú tienes a alguien en mente?...

— Claro. Blake Jones.

— No jodas, ¿el mejor capitán del equipo deportivo? – Logan se sorprendió excesivamente.

Aunque en parte lo entendía. Blake era bueno en casi todos los deportes, había sido el capitán de al menos 4 disciplinas distintas, rey del baile, ponía nerviosas a casi todas las chicas, maestras y mamás incluidas. Era cómo un dios caminando en la tierra, su plan se sentía cómo querer quitarle el cuerpo a Hércules.

— ¿Quién más? – Miles levantó la ceja, cómo si la pregunta fuera tonta – Lo quiero a él, quiero esa grandeza.

Hubo algo en su mirada que me heló la piel, aunque entendía el sentimiento... Miles había estado a la sombra de muchas cosas sólo por su apariencia y su forma de hablar, era claro que quería el "vehículo" perfecto para acompañar a su cerebro.

— Entonces... Yo quiero a Caleb Hawks – Logan dijo.

Miles soltó una risa.

— No inventes, es una broma, ¿no? – Pero Logan se quedó callado – ¿El tipo sin cerebro de la escuela y con el peor aroma de todos, es en serio?

Miles tenía razón, Caleb era conocido por su idiotez, su mal olor y por ser relativamente "desagradable". Había en él algo que podía ser llamativo, lo admitía, aunque no sabía bien que era ese algo.

— ¿Se puede o no? – Logan dijo serio.

— Sí, sí. Es tu decisión, tranquilo – Miles dijo. A lo que él pareció calmarse, por lo qué volvió a esconderse detrás de su cómic – ¿Y tu, Ethan? ¿Quién será tu premio?

Mi mente estaba trabajando como loca, moviéndose por todos los grados, todos los clubes tanto deportivos cómo artísticos, asociaciones estudiantiles, programas de intercambio, profesores... Era una infinita carta de opciones. Pero entonces pensé en él: Ruben Hernández.

Parte del comité de arte, buen actor, influencer y con unos atributos para morirse, a pesar de no ser parte de ningún equipo deportivo, sin duda tenía un cuerpo perfecto.

— Ruben.

— ¿El latino?

— ¿También me pondrás un pero?

— Para nada, sólo me sorprenden sus elecciones, amigos. Pensé que escogerían a capitanes y deportistas, pero respeto sus decisiones. Logan levantó la mirada, cerrando por fin el cómic.

— ¿Y cuándo empezamos?

— Fácil. Cada quién cazara lo que desea.

Entonces Miles nos extendió el control, esperando por quién lo tomara primero.

Continuará.

———

Espero que hayas disfrutado esta historia tanto como yo disfruté escribiéndola. Si te gustó, no olvides darle follow y compartirla para que más gente la descubra. Siempre estoy abierto a sugerencias e ideas, así que si tienes alguna fantasía o escenario en mente, déjamelo saber en los comentarios o en mensajes.

Está es la primera parte de "Switch Up", una nueva serie para el blog, ojalá les guste, sé que este primer episodio fue algo corto, pero los que siguen sin duda serán más largos para seguir toda la aventura de Ethan y sus amigos.

Nos vemos en la próxima historia… ¿Quién sabe qué cuerpo ocuparás esta vez?

———

Filo Shenanigans

AI GENERATED STORY PROMPT OUTLINE: FILO HUNKS GETS POSSESSED BY AUSSIE GHOST

Miguel was a hot Filipino hunk, his body sculpted to perfection, every muscle defined under his caramel skin. His days were filled with admiration from men and women alike, but tonight, his life was about to change forever.

As Miguel lay in bed, a strange chill filled the room. His body convulsed, his eyes rolling back into his head as an Australian ghost, driven by insatiable lust, took possession of his body. Miguel's soul went dormant, and when he opened his eyes, they gleamed with a new, wicked light.

"Well, fuck me dead, this is a bloody nice rig!" the ghost said, testing out his new, Australian-accented voice. He stood in front of the mirror, flexing his biceps, tracing his hands over Miguel's abs. "Look at this hot piece of meat. Damn, I'm a stunner!"

He grinned, running his hands down to the bulge in his shorts. "Gotta see what kind of cock I've got here," he muttered, pulling down his shorts and revealing a massive erection. "Bloody hell, look at the size of this thing. This giant filo cock is fuckin' beautiful."

The ghost, now fully in control, began to stroke his new member, slowly at first, relishing the sensation. "Oh, fuck yes," he groaned, his voice echoing in the room. "This is what I needed. Feels so fuckin' good."

His strokes quickened, his grip tightening around the shaft. "Fuck, I'm so hot. Look at this body, this cock. Gonna blow a massive load," he panted, his eyes fixed on his reflection, his new accent thick with lust.

With a guttural moan, the ghost brought himself to the edge, his hips thrusting into his hand. "Here it comes, mate. Fuckin' cumming!" he shouted, his body tensing as he shot streams of cum all over the mirror, his reflection grinning back at him.

Breathing heavily, the ghost admired his handiwork. "Bloody fantastic," he said, wiping the cum from the mirror with a satisfied smirk. "This body is mine now, and I'm gonna enjoy every fuckin' second of it."

Miguel, still under the control of the horny Australian ghost, walked back to the mirror. His new body glistened with a thin layer of sweat, highlighting every muscle and vein. He flexed his biceps, turning to admire his broad shoulders and powerful back.

"Guess I can speak Tagalog now," he said, his voice still carrying the Australian twang but now seamlessly shifting into fluent Tagalog. "Tingnan mo ang katawan na ito, sobrang init." (Look at this body, so hot.)

He continued to admire himself, running his hands over his chest and abs. "Ang ganda ng muscles ko, sobrang tigas." (My muscles are beautiful, so hard.) His hands moved lower, teasing the edge of his shorts. "Ang laki ng titi ko, gustong-gusto kong magbate." (My cock is huge, I really want to jerk off.)

Just as he began to stroke his cock again, Miguel's phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID – it was his friend, Marco. With a wicked grin, he answered, not stopping his movements.

"Hey, Marco," he said, trying to mimic Miguel's usual tone. "Ano'ng ginagawa mo?" (What are you doing?)

"Miguel, bro, okay ka lang ba? Parang iba yung boses mo." (Miguel, bro, are you okay? Your voice sounds different.)

"Never felt better, mate," Miguel replied, suppressing a groan as he continued to stroke himself. "Just enjoying the... finer things in life."

"Sigurado ka? Para kang pagod." (Are you sure? You sound tired.)

"Pagod? Hindi, sobra akong energized." (Tired? No, I'm very energized.) He emphasized the word with a particularly firm stroke, his cock pulsing in his hand. "Actually, I feel like I could go all night."

Marco hesitated. "Baka may kailangan ka, bro? Mukhang kailangan mo ng tulong."

"Help? Oh, I'm getting all the help I need," Miguel replied, his voice thick with lust. "Everything's coming together perfectly."

"Parang kailangan mo ng pahinga, Miguel. Mukhang kailangan mong magpahinga." (It sounds like you need rest, Miguel. Maybe you should take a break.)

"Oh, don't worry, Marco," he said, barely able to contain his moans. "I'm getting plenty of... release. Everything is just... perfect."

As he hung up, Miguel's strokes became faster, his reflection in the mirror showing a man lost in pure ecstasy. "Oh, fuck yes," he groaned, his body tensing as he neared climax. "Ito na... lalabasan na ako!" (Here it comes... I'm cumming!)

With a final thrust, he shot his load all over the mirror, his body shaking with pleasure. Panting, he admired his reflection once more. "This body is mine," he said, his voice a mix of Australian and Tagalog. "And I'm going to enjoy every fucking second." BONUS PT. SHOE SHOPPING

Possessed Miguel strolled into the quiet shoe store, his muscular frame immediately catching the eye of the young, lithe assistant behind the counter. The twink, Ethan, couldn't help but stare, his eyes lingering on Miguel powerful legs, broad shoulders and sexy feet.

"G'day, mate," Miguel said, his Australian accent thick and playful. "I'm lookin' for some new slides. Got any recommendations?"

Ethan, clearly flustered, nodded quickly. "Y-yes, sir, right this way."

Miguel followed Ethan to the back of the store, where the assistant displayed a selection of slides. Miguel took his time, making a show of slipping off his shoes and flexing his toes. He caught Ethan's gaze fixed on his feet and smirked.

"Size eleven, yeah?" Miguel said, raising an eyebrow. "You got these in my size?"

Ethan stammered, "I-I think so. Let me check."

Miguel spread his toes, wiggling them seductively. "You like what you see?" he asked, his voice low and inviting.

Ethan blushed, barely able to meet Miguel eyes. "Uh, y-yes, they're very... nice."

Miguel grinned, slipping his feet into a pair of slides and flexing his calves. "Why don't you come closer, have a proper look," he suggested.

Ethan hesitated, then stepped closer, his eyes fixed on Miguel sexy feet. "They look perfect on you," he murmured, his voice trembling with excitement.

Miguel leaned in, his breath hot against Ethan's ear. "Glad you think so. How about you help me try 'em on properly?" He lifted his foot, placing it on a nearby stool, and let Ethan's fingers graze his skin.

Ethan's hands trembled as he adjusted the slides, his touch lingering on Miguel's smooth, muscular legs. "They're really... perfect," he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

Miguel's voice dropped to a husky murmur. "You like touching them, don't you?" He placed a hand on Ethan's chin, lifting his gaze. "What about the rest of me?"

Before Ethan could respond, Miguelk pulled him into a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring Ethan's mouth. Ethan melted into him, his hands roaming over Miguel's sculpted chest.

"Let's take this out back," Miguel whispered, his voice dripping with lust.

In the back room, Miguel pressed Ethan against the wall, his hands sliding down to undo the assistant's pants. Ethan's breath hitched as Miguel's fingers teased his entrance. "Oh, fuck," he moaned. "Please, fuck me."

Miguel grinned, positioning himself. "You want this?" he murmured, his cock hard and ready.

"Yes, fuck yes," Ethan begged, his body trembling.

Miguel entered him with one powerful thrust, their moans echoing in the small room. "Fuck, you're tight," Miguel growled, his hands gripping Ethan's hips.

Ethan's moans grew louder as Miguel pounded into him, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through them both. "You're so fucking hot," Miguel panted, increasing his pace.

"Yes daddy, yes, fuck me harder," Ethan cried out, his nails digging into Miguel back.

As Miguel felt himself nearing climax, he pulled out, turning Ethan around. "Show me how much you want it," he said, his voice commanding. Ethan knelt before Miguel, taking the massive cock into his mouth, sucking eagerly. Miguel's hands guided him, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy. "I'm gonna cum," Miguekl's groaned, pulling back at the last moment. It took Miguel all his will power to not cum in that very moment.

Ethan stayed on his knees, his eyes fixated on the muscular man's feet. He couldn't resist his fetish any longer. "Your feet are so fucking sexy," he whispered, leaning down to worship them.

Miguel smirked, watching Ethan's tongue flick out to lick his toes. "You love my feet, don't you?" he said, his voice thick with arousal.

Ethan moaned in response, his hands stroking Miguel's feet as he began to jerk himself off. He couldn't hold back, his cum splattering all over Miguel's feet. Without missing a beat, Ethan leaned down, licking his own cum off Miguel's toes.

Miguel's groaned at the sight, his cock throbbing with need. "Good boy," he murmured, guiding Ethan back up. He took his cock in hand and began to stroke it furiously, his eyes locked on Ethan.

"I'm gonna cum," Miguel growled, his hand moving faster. With a final, powerful thrust, he shot his load all over the new slides.

Miguel grinned, satisfied. "Good boy," he murmured, lifting Ethan's chin for another kiss.

Miguel adjusted the slides, feeling the sticky warmth of his own cum beneath his feet. Miguel grinned, pulling up his pants. "Told ya you'd love it," he said, giving Ethan a playful smack on the ass. "Thanks for the slides, mate, perfect fit"

With a confident stride, Miguel walked out of the store, the new slides on his feet and a satisfied smirk on his face. Miguel couldn't help but chuckle to himself. Possessing this body was turning out to be even more enjoyable than he had imagined.

Victim Of The Gym

The manager of the gym gave him the keys so he could get his workout done early in the morning. I also had a set of those keys. He’s my prisoner now. Soon, I’m going to inject him with the bodysuit serum. When I saw his hot young lean body, I knew I had to have him. I harvest so many of my victims from the gym. He is simply the latest addition to my collection.

Since you love it when people expanded your storyline, please allow me to entertain you about Cas because this is right up my alley @onelinerbust

Something extraordinary happened to me earlier today. As I smugly grin with my roommate to our enhanced reflection in the mirror, my mind wandered to 10 hours ago when that hit me.

My fingers, stained with Cheeto dust and smelling faintly of lukewarm ramen, hammered away at the keyboard, lines of Python code blooming on the screen like digital weeds. The hum of the server rack in the corner was my white noise, the flickering monitor my campfire. This was my life, resident basement dweller in a leafy, aggressively liberal campus more interested in protesting free speech than actually engaging with it.

My world consisted of logic gates, late-night coding sessions, and the occasional awkward conversation with a teaching assistant about why my sorting algorithm was eating up more memory than a browser running Chrome. Social life? Non-existent. Romantic prospects? Laughable. I’d spend my weekends huddled in the dimly lit computer lab, bathed in the cool glow of screens, while the rest of the campus pulsed with parties and… well, whatever else regular college kids did. I wouldn't know. Regular wasn't in my programming.

*bzzzt bzzzt*

Little did I know back then, it was the catalyst. It was a rarity for someone to message me, most of the time people reached me through the more accessible socials, message to my phone number usually ended up as spam. But something – a flicker of boredom, maybe – made me pick it up and unlock it.

The message was long, rambling, and…...weird.

“Cas, wake the fuck up. This is a trick, you are NOT a spineless soyboy. You’re supposed to be a GOD, remember? 🤯 Alpha💪🏻. American 🇺🇸. White 🫵🏻. You have all it takes to become the God that you are destined to be! 🦅🦅🦅🇺🇸 This is not it! Look at you, pathetic. Remember gridiron glory? Friday night lights? The roar of the crowd as you, Chad ‘The Crusher’ Kensington, leading your team to victory? 🏈🏈🏆 Remember the cheerleaders, their pom-poms a blur, their eyes hungry for you? Remember the taste of victory, the scent of their slick pussy🍑😏, the adoration in their eyes when they kneel to your greatness🍆💦🧠? You deserve it all. It’s your birthright. This woke bullshit campus is trying to neuter you, but deep down, the alpha is still there. Let him out. Unleash the beast 😤👹👹 They want weakness? Show them power. They want equality? Show them hierarchy. They want gentleness? Show them dominance. Go take what's yours, Chad. Grab your crown and spoil, king 👑, you know I'm right and you approve this message! 😤😤

The message was punctuated with emojis – flexing biceps, crowns, American flags, and an unsettling number of suggestive faces. My brow furrowed. This had to be some kind of elaborate prank. Some right-wing troll farm had probably gotten hold of my number. I was about to delete it when a strange warmth spread in my chest. Like a shot of something potent and unfamiliar.

It started small. A tingling in my fingers, then a tightening in my gut, like I'd just downed a gallon of protein shake. My vision sharpened, my glasses become an obstacle so I took it down. The code on the screen, which had been a comforting blur of familiar symbols, now seemed almost… insulting. My shoulders straightened instinctively. I flexed my fingers, and there was…more there. Definitely more. Concerned, I decided to make a dash to the bathroom, trying to relive myself and not disturb the others with my painful groan

As I entered the empty, secluded bathroom, that was when it hit.

It wasn't a slow transition. It was a goddamn reality shift. One second, I was Cas, the hunched-over coder, the next…I trembled on the floor as my body screamed with a new kind of awareness. My skin flushed with heat as it gets tighter, stretched over something hard and defined. Muscles. Real muscles. Not the flabby kind that comes from hauling bags of chips from the store to the dorm. These were….sculpted....powerful, dare I say.

Despite my attempt to look at my surroundings and begging for help, I only let out a weak, pathetic whimper as my gaze dropped to my swelling arms. I ripped off my oversized, stained hoodie, the fabric tearing slightly at the seams. The skinny, pale limbs I’d known my entire life were gone. It was replaced by thick, corded arms with veins popping under my now tanned, still-white skin. I managed to get some control over my trembling, swelling form, as I pushed myself to stand up. Then, as if a truck just hit me, my reflection stared back from the dirty bathroom mirror

It wasn't me, I thought rightaway, but a painful glitch hit my brain and I relaxed afterward.

The round, soft face was gone. Sharp angles had emerged – a strong jawline, high cheekbones. My eyes, which had always been a bland, watery blue behind thick glasses, were now a piercing, intense steel-grey, framed by this intimidating, darker eyebrows. My boring, unimpressive thin brunette with signs of receding hairline, had thickened, styled into a coiffed, blonde cut that framed my face perfectly. And… holy shit, my chest. I was enamored by the sight of it…defined...yet pillowy too, definitely the kind of pecs that can hypnotize anyone that stared at it for too long

The rest of my torso were equally outstanding, rippling with muscle and power beyond even my wildest imagination. A six-pack, for Christ’s sake! I ran a hand over my stomach, feeling the hard ridges beneath my skin. It felt… alien. And utterly, undeniably amazing.

Below the Adonis belt… well, let’s just say things were… proportionately enhanced. The message hadn't lied. Eight inches? Minimum. This wasn't just a physical transformation. It was…fundamental. A complete rewrite of my being.

And the memories…they flooded in, vivid and visceral, like a lifetime I’d somehow forgotten. Friday night lights. The roar of the crowd. Me, Chad Kensington, throwing a perfect spiral, the ball whistling through the air, finding my receiver in the end zone for the winning touchdown. Cheerleaders chanting my name. The hot press of bodies in the locker room, the smell of sweat and victory. The adoring gazes of girls, lining up for a piece of me.

Chad Kensington. That's me now. That had always been me. And this Cas memory… this weak, nerdy shell, this “Cas,” was just some… aberration. A glitch in the matrix, finally corrected.

A surge of pure, unadulterated testosterone pulsed through my veins. I thought to myself, this is power. This is dominance. This is what I was meant to be.

I remembered that I reached down, gripped myself through my sweatpants – they were suddenly too tight, too strained at the seams – and started to stroke hard, the phantom memories of cheering crowds and eager pussy fueling my hand. Chad Kensington, college star. Chad Kensington, panty-dropper extraordinaire. Chad Kensington, alpha male supreme. The image solidified in my mind, burning hot and real. I came hard all over the bathroom, my streak of thick, white cum painted the tiles, the mirror and even coagulated at the sink, the force of it surprising even myself, the false memory of adoration and conquest washing over me like a tidal wave.

When I finally opened my eyes, still breathing heavily, I realized that this would the very last time I would be jacking off to my dick in such a pathetic state. My baby batter would not be wasted in an empty, secluded bathroom like that so I quickly put my clothes back on and dashed to the computer lab to made my exit from the confine of that oppressive cage.

As I entered the lab, I remembered it suddenly felt… suffocating. Small. Pathetic. It wasn't my place anymore. Chad Kensington didn’t belong in a basement coding Phyton and shit. He belonged out there, dominating, conquering, taking what was rightfully his.

"Chad, what took you so long?"

Yeah, that was fun. Ramsey......did that pathetic TA really tried to intimidate me with that furrowed brow of his and confined me with bureaucracy BS? Well, he better be fuckin' jacked first before starting to act tough to me. Then, my brain started working. Maybe Ramsey can be less of a whiny, judgy TA if he received the message, so I just forwarded the message to him and smirked as I told him that I sent my reason to his personal messenger and I need to get the fuck out of here ASAP. He turned around and started to read the chat, and from the small glimpse that I managed to peek, the message is different from what I received! That's when the realization hit me. I legit mouthed "Damn" to myself as I realized that it's adaptive......like, that shit can change based on who read it. That revelation made my head spin, that message was indeed some fucking precisive, hi-tech work there. But the effect seemed to be the same, it made the reader into its best version of themselves, because how do you explain that a fucking algorithmic TA all-in-a-sudden have the built of a jacked bull like that, huh?

As he allowed me to grab my bag and leave the lab with a knowing nod, my stomach growled – not from hunger, but from a different kind of hunger. A primal urge. And then it brought me back to this very room as I remembered Kate, Jason's girlfriend. I know Jason, my roommate, was still at his stupid philosophy club meeting as I cleaned out my table, probably droning on about existential dread and Kate.....Kate was always… around, waiting for him. She's pretty enough, in a bland, accessible way. And always subtly, almost unconsciously, throwing glances my way. I knew even from back then that it must be the fucked up, corrupt message that made me think that way because Kate would never glanced to pathetic, asocial Cas, but at the same time, I was hit by this duality as I remembered myself as NOT Cas. Of course she glanced at me, I'm Chad fucking Kensington and people will not only glance my way, they will snap their head to view my greatness.

I strode out of the computer lab, my newfound muscles rippling under my thin tanktop (which also felt alarmingly small and tight). The campus walkways felt different. People noticed me. Heads turned. Girls giggled. Guys gave me that wary, respectful nod that alphas exchanged. It was intoxicating.

When I finally arrived at my dorm room, it was unlocked, as usual. Jason was perpetually trusting, another symptom of his pathetic beta male existence, I thought. I pushed it open, and there she was, Kate, sprawled on Jason's bed, scrolling through her phone, oblivious.

“Hey,” I said, my voice deeper, rougher than I remembered. Chad’s voice.

She looked up, startled as I take my shirt off so casually to reveal the sheen of sweat that seemingly coated my body. Her eyes widened, lingering on my… physique. A flicker of something in her eyes I recognized – desire – flashed in them.

“Cas? Uh.... sorry, the room is unlocked, Jason said.....I....I can wait in his bed. You just finished with practice?” Her voice was breathy, a little uncertain.

“Chad,” I corrected, stepping closer. “It’s Chad,"

She swallowed, her gaze dropping to my chest. “Chad,” she repeated, testing the name on her lips as I can see the memory started to jog on her brain. “Yeah, Chad.”

“Jason’s not here,” I stated, knowing it wasn’t a question.

She shook her head, a nervous laugh escaping her. “No, he’s… still in philosophy club.”

“Right,” I said, closing the distance between us. I reached out, my hand closing around her wrist, pulling her to her feet. Her skin was soft, yielding in my grip. Too soft. She needed to be hardened up. Tamed.

“By the way, read your phone, dropped something you would be interested to read," I said, glancing at her phone with a knowing smirk as I decided that she would be my first female guinea pig

I watched it in real time how the bland, average-looking Kate started to get way more prettier, leagues above Jason definitely, the curve gets wilder and her face really turned exactly how I imagined a sultry blonde bimbo falling head over heels for me would look like. So, after proving my little theory to be correct, that the message is transformative beyond men, I decided to test out yet another probability. Her slightly vacant eyes gave me idea as I saw a potential to create more excitement, more chaos, so I grabbed her by the chin to made her stare at me and start digging

"You get close to my roommate just to have chances to be in the same room with me, don't you? You're not the brightest girl out there, Cathy, I can see right through your play,"

Bingo, I smirked in my mind. That mind was jogging hard to made my words her reality. And since I have started anyway, I decided to take it up a notch to made my words her Bible

"In fact, you always fantasize Jason as me, right? This room smelled like me, you can taste me in the air so when you close your eyes as Jason fucked you, that mind of yours played this little game to make you think I was the one doing the fucking, huh? That's why you always come here earlier than Jason and I, you imprinted my fucking musk in your head by digging through my dirty laundry and closet so you can go through that unimpressive sex with Jason with me in mind, don't you? Well, he's not around, so why not use this time for you to just taste the real thing?"

She didn’t resist as I pulled her closer, my body pressing against hers. And seemingly taken over by her wilder, improved side, she started licking and kissing my abs

We were on Jason's bed in seconds, her clothes ripped open, the cheap fabric tearing easily under my hands. She moaned like a slut in heat, calling my name like I'm his God and only savior which fueled my dominance. It was power. It was control. It was… right.

Just as I was piledriving my cock into her now very irresistibly tight pussy, the door swung open. Jason stood there, textbooks clutched in his hand, his jaw dropping as he took in the scene. Me, thrusting hard into his girlfriend, her muffled moan filling the room.

“Cas?!” His voice was a strangled squawk.

I paused, looking up at him, a smirk playing on my lips. “Chad,” I corrected again. “And you need to check your phone, Jason,”

He stared at me, bewildered, then slowly lowered his gaze to his phone, which he thankfully had in his pocket. He fumbled it out, unlocked it with trembling fingers, and then… his eyes widened. He read something on the screen, his face shifting, contorting.

The change wasn’t as instantaneous as mine had been, but it was happening. His posture straightened. His shoulders broadened. His soft, doughy face hardened, angles emerging where there had been curves. His eyes sharpened, losing their bewildered puppy-dog look, gaining a new, predatory gleam.

“Holy… fuck,” he breathed, dropping his textbooks to the floor with a thud. He looked at me, a grin spreading across his transformed face, a grin that mirrored my own. “Chad?”

“Welcome to the club, bro,” I said, nodding. “Plenty to go around.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He ripped off his shirt, revealing a surprisingly decent set of pecs that I didn’t remember being there before. He was still smaller than me, but… he was getting there. Fast.

Without a word, he joined me on the bed. Cathy, who had been silent and still during the initial shock of Jason’s arrival, moaned again as he climbed on top of her, his gaze now burning with the same predatory hunger I felt.

We tag-teamed her, me dealing with her now bubbly, curvy ass while Jason handled the front, his now uncut 6 inchers really bruised her throay in a brutal, animalistic act of dominance. Tears and sweat leaked out of her alongside the obvious pussy juices and saliva, but she's not really protesting despite all the shit we did to her, just… taking it. Submitting. Like the good, cheerleader slut she was. It was… satisfying. In a deeply, disturbingly primal way.

Later, after we were done, Cathy panted for breath looking like a total wrecked mess on Jason's bed as I and Jason stood side-by-side, flexing in front of the mirror. The dorm room felt… different. Charged. Alive. With power.

As my mind snapped back to the current situation and how much change I have caused, Jason's question really cause a stir in my mind

“Think this… message… can do this to anyone?” Jason asked, running a hand over his newly defined jawline.

I smirked. “Oh I know this shit can do it to anyone. But let's see how far this can go,"

I pulled out my phone, found the message, and forwarded it to the Computer Science group chat. A chat filled with other pathetic, nerdy guys like I used to be. Guys who needed… guidance. Correction.

Almost instantly, phones started buzzing and pinging around the dorm. Then, shouts. Yells. The sound of furniture being overturned. Loud, aggressive music blaring from open windows. Footsteps pounding in the hallway.

Jason and I exchanged a glance. Then we grinned. Wide, feral grins.

The campus is about to change. And Chad Kensington, along with his newly minted alpha brothers, is going to be leading the charge. My birthright, after all.

Outfit of the day - when you know, you know...

Wanna show me yours? Tag me!

Becoming My Classmates Brother

My classmate Enzo Ceja was so hot, everyone on our class thought so. He was everything you would expect, he played football, basket ball, and was so attractive. He was 6’3, Mexican, and had a pretty toned body. Me being one of the only gay boys in my class, obviously had a crush on him, and everything about him. I knew he was straight, but I couldn’t get him out of my head.

So one day at my school during lunch I was talking to my friend about Enzo, and how I wanted to be his boyfriend. Little did I know, admitting this crush would completely change my life. The next day when I got to school, I could feel everyone staring at me, and I knew why. Someone over heard me telling my friend about my stupid crush on Enzo.

Enzo’s Perspective

I was leaving football practice when I over heard some of my bros talking about Dan, the one gay boy in my class. Had told someone that he had a crush on me. Ew. I could never date a man, but since rumor had spread around the school. People were shipping us. I had to talk to that boy, and clear this up, before I get clicked of the team. And I know just how to fix this.

Dans Perspective

As I walked into school, Enzo grabbed my head and pulled me into the locker room. As soon as he knew we were alone he started rambling on, about how he doesn’t even like the idea that a man likes him. Then he slapped me, and I lost consciousness.

When I woke up, I felt different. I looked down, and saw legs that we’re definitely not mine, they were darker, and a lot more athletic then my fat, white legs. I got up fast and looked in the mirror.

I looked in the mirror, and instead of myself, I saw someone that looked like Enzo, but older. I was his older brother, I pulled out my id and on it was “Daniel Ceja” Which was definitely not my name before. Somehow I had turned into the older brother of the man I once liked. And I’m not complaining, if I couldn’t have him, being him was just as good, if not better.

“Hey bro get your keys! I’m going to be late for school!”

Obvious, I was Daniel Ceja, and Enzo is my younger brother. I have to give him a ride to school.

Summer Shift- Around the Neighborhood

Alex:

Before the great shift, I was a middle aged single guy and all of my neighbors thought was I weird. But the shift put me into my neighbor’s sons body. And I have to say I’ve been living it up!

My neighbors son was one of the key players on the football team and damn the kid’s built. Just look at these muscles!

I probably flex them at least ten times a day.

I’ve spent my days mostly by my pool or making sure to keep this body in shape.

One of the best parts is that I no longer need to work! Well at least my works pretty easy. I’m now on onlyfans getting paid to show off these beautiful feet.

And a lot of my fans pay a nice premium just for some personal photos.

Before I was out of shape and pretty insecure. But now I’m hot and can’t wait to show off this bod.

Although the neighbors son is pretty pissed. I always catch him trying to get a glimpse of his old body. And I don’t mind giving him a show.

The other day I caught him rubbing his crotch while staring at me. But I don’t mind. How could you not lust after this?

I guess the Great Shift wasn’t terrible for everyone. I’m pretty happy!

Now if you can excuse me, I need to go jerk off my huge cock before I have my afternoon tan.

Don:

So My neighbor David and I ended up in each other’s son body while our son’s ended up in ours.

It’s an interesting situation around. Although both of our sons seem to love it. 

Lately, we’ve been sharing a house just to manage the boys easier. And it’s been difficult.

The hard part me is trying to control my adult teen while also dealing with teenage hormones. I really forgot what it’s like to be this horny all of the time.

The other day David walked in on me jerking off. In his sons body, how embarrassing!

It was a bit awkward for sure but he didn’t say anything—probably just trying to keep the peace.

Hopefully they will figure this whole thing out because I don’t know how I’m going to control myself. Oh god! I have another boner!

David:

After walking in on Don I knew all bets were off! I’ve been fighting the urge to jerk off myself.

But after seeing him with my sons dick in his hand I knew I needed some relief myself.

It’s odd being so much younger again and even more bizarre seeing Don’s son walk around in my body. The worst part is that I think Don’s son is gay and had a crush on me.

Now every time I see my former self I have to hide my boner.

I just hope neither of the boys noticed!

Don and David’s sons (Tyler and Andrew):

The Great Shift has been the best thing ever!

Not only did we both end up in each other’s dad’s bodies but both of them are too distracted by our bodies to pay any attention to what we’ve been doing.

Most of our summer has been exploring and getting to know our new selves. We even sleep in the same bed together which makes every night fun!

It’s a little weird messing around with my dads body at night. But it’s been some time since the Great Shift happened and I don’t even think about it that way anymore.

To me my dads body now belongs to Andrew.

Another cool part is that Andrew and I will sneak out to go to bars! And no one suspects a thing since were in adult bodies.

And before either of our dads wake up we always sneak back just in time.

Man, I love the Great Shift and I’m glad I get to go through it with my best friend.

My brother's friend Billy

This is my brother's friend Billy. They have been friends since I can remember. And ever since I knew him, I was obsessed with him. I looked up to him, but I was always blown away how beautiful he was. It didn't matter that he and my brother bullied me. Whenever he touched me, I was in heaven.

Especially amazing was the moment I found out, how to shapeshift into other people. All I needed was one piece of clothing worn by that person and I would become them. At first it happened to me when I used my brother's shirt instead of mine accidentally. I immediately shifted into his exact copy. I was shocked, but curious to explore more. But someone was coming close to my room, so I quickly threw away his shirt, put on mine and waited for the changes to shift back.

And that's when my quest to get Billy's clothing started. But it was really hard to get clothes from someone who didn't live at our house.

One day our parents decided to visit grandparents for a weekend and leave us alone at the house. My brother obviously invited Billy and some girls. They invited me to join them too. I mostly spoke to the girls and from time to time checked if Billy did take of some piece of clothing.

They got drunk pretty soon and moved to my brother's bedroom. I waited outside the door for the moans to stop. After some time I decided to enter. It was dark and they were all sleeping already. God knows what they did together...

I checked for some underwear, shirt or something else that would be Billy's. Finally I found a sock. I grabbed it and carefully left the room.

I entered my room and locked the door, stripping myself, leaving only my underwear on. I sniffed the sock. It was dirty and slightly wet. This sock was on his beautiful foot! I was about to become my dreamy guy. The one I desired the most.

I took my dick in one hand and started jerking off. With my second hand, I clumsily tried to get it on. After a few unsuccesful attempts I managed to do it.

I felt the changes. I felt as my hair elonged into his. My face changing structure. My body enlarging, but my abs protruding. My legs became hairier.

My feet were finally his. I put his leg to my nose. What others would describe as a cheesy disgusting smell, I couldn't get enough of. It was so strong, manly and Billy! I look exactly like Billy!

As my hands explored my beautiful feet, my forearms brushed over the hairy legs. I continued to feel my big, full lips, my pointy nose. My hairy pits that I inhaled for a long time and licked even longer. I also tried to lick, make out and suck Billy's hot biceps, trying to do a hickey on it. Then my left hand gave more attention to the forming tent. I threw away the underwear binding me from the proper enjoyment.

I was now completely naked. Billy was naked in my bed! Or atleast his body. I started humping my bed and touching myself in the process. I felt so strong and horny.

I grabbed my phone to take some photos. I need to document this!

I did many shots of his body from above, close shots of his feet, his pits, his gorgeous dick, his ass.

I did shots that would be amazing for me to jerk off to in case I would have to give back his clothes

I loved his veiny arms. His nipples. His lean and tight body.

I felt more and more like Billy. I wanted to be with his body all the time. To smell his scent. To have him for myself.

When I took last photo of Billy's body on my bed, covered in a towel, there was a knock on the door.

I looked at the phone. It was morning already! "FUCK"

I took off Billy's sock and put on my own clothes, putting his sock in my pocket.

I opened the door.

"Hey, perv. Did you take Billy's sock? He can't find it anywhere, so I need to check if you did not jerk into it?"

"Fuck off. Of course I didn't take it. Didn't he leave it in the living room? You guys partied there pretty hard. Maybe he threw it somewhere"

They all went to look in the living room, which gave me chance to put his sock under my brother's pilllow.

They did not give up the search and eventualy found it, which made me a bit sad, because now I didn't have any clothing that would turn me to Billy.

I became obsessed with the photos I took when I was shifted into him. I jerked off to those photos every day like 5 times.

But something changed in me. When Billy came over, he played videogames with my brother or talk about girls. As I observed him move, laugh, fart and talk about fucking pussy, I felt disgusted. That's not the way he should be treating that body. I treated it better. He doesn't deserve it!

I realised I was not obsessed with Billy. I was obsessed with his body. Therefore I made a plan to make his body mine. I shapshifted into my brother, lured Billy into our house and took care of it.

Yeah, maybe there would be a less messy way to do that. Maybe I should have seen a therapist before all of this. Maybe leaving traces of my blood in my room and leaving my brothers fingerprints on the knife were a bit too much. But what was I suppose to do? My old body would be missing and I had to pin it on someone. And who better then the guy who spent the most time with Billy? He would definitely find out that I'm not the original Billy.

You can call me cold or heartless. But watching from my car as the police dragged away my ex-brother for possible murder of my old body was satisfying. I am now completely Billy and there is no one stopping me.

There is only one thing left. What should I do with Billy's dead body in my trunk?

Anyone wants to talk about body swaping or skin suits? Hit me at my dm!!

Golfing With The Boss

On a bright, sunny afternoon, Michael found himself at the local golf course with his boss, Mr. Hawke, for what was initially meant to be a professional outing. This outing took an unexpected turn as he noticed Mr. Hawke's behavior was unusually relaxed, almost playful, a stark contrast to his usual stern demeanor.

The game continued until Michael's ball landed in a tricky spot. As he approached to retrieve it, he was met with a sight that made his heart race—Mr. Hawke was sitting in the golf cart, barefoot, his feet stretched out in the sun. The shock of seeing his boss in such an intimate state was quickly replaced by a rush of excitement, as Michael had always had a particular fascination with feet.

Then, a chill ran down his spine as he realized the truth. The playful posture, the familiar glint in the eye—it wasn't Mr. Hawke; it was Jake, his late boyfriend indulging in their shared fantasy where Michael would always worship his feet.

"Jake?" Michael whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of surprise and longing.

"Hey, Mikey," came the reply in Mr. Hawke's voice but with Jake's characteristic warmth. But before Michael could process this reunion, Mr. Hawke's colleagues arrived, inadvertently exposing Jake's possession. Jake quickly shifted back to mimicking Mr. Hawke’s stern demeanor, covering up the situation with a laugh about wanting to feel the grass underfoot.

Once they were alone again, Jake, still in control of Mr. Hawke's body, decided to resume their old game, adopting a dominant tone. "Michael, you know the rules. If you want that promotion, you'll have to earn it. And from now on,you'll address me by my first name, Robert. On your knees, now."

Compelled by both his desire and the familiar roleplay, Michael knelt before Robert's feet, his hands trembling with anticipation. Jake, through Robert, continued, "Worship them, like you used to worship Jake’s, or consider yourself fired."

Michael began to caress, kiss, and lick Robert's feet, each touch a homage to their shared fantasy. He traced his tongue along the arches, sucked gently on the toes, and inhaled deeply, savoring the scent that, in his mind, was Jake's.

As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows, Jake's voice softened but remained authoritative, "Good, Mikey. Now, let's see if you're worthy of that promotion, and remember, it's Robert from now on."

Leading Michael to a secluded part of the field, Jake, in Robert's body, became more assertive. He pushed Michael down onto the soft grass, his hands firm yet loving, reminiscent of Jake's touch during their roleplay sessions. Jake, still pretending to be the stern boss, began to undress Michael slowly, each piece of clothing removed with a deliberate, commanding motion, reinforcing the power dynamic they both enjoyed.

"Strip me, Michael," Jake ordered, and Michael complied, his hands trembling as he unbuttoned Robert's shirt, revealing the body that housed his lover's spirit. Once they were both naked, Jake positioned himself over Michael, his eyes locked onto his with an intensity that was all Jake.

With a firm grip, Jake guided himself into Michael, the sensation overwhelming as Michael felt the familiar yet foreign touch of Jake through Robert's body. Jake moved with a rhythm that was both commanding and tender, his feet occasionally brushing against Michael's skin, a teasing reminder of their game.

"Tell me you're mine, Mikey, and that you'll do anything to keep your job," Jake whispered, his breath hot against Michael's ear. Michael, lost in the moment, moaned his affirmation, "I'm yours, Robert, always. I'll do anything."

Their lovemaking was intense, with Jake taking control, his thrusts deep and deliberate, mixing dominance with the fulfillment of Michael's fetish. The field around them was silent, their connection the only sound, a symphony of gasps and whispers. Jake's hands roamed, but his feet were never far from Michael's reach, allowing him to occasionally kiss or touch them, heightening the experience.

As they reached their climax, Jake's spirit seemed to pulse with energy, his possession deepening as if he was claiming not just the moment but the body itself. "I want to stay, Mikey. I want to keep this body, so we can still be together," Jake murmured as they lay entwined on the grass, his voice a mix of plea and command.

Michael, overwhelmed by the encounter and the fulfillment of his deepest desires, nodded, his heart heavy with the implications but unable to deny the connection they had just shared. "Stay with me, Ja– Robert," he whispered, sealing their fate as the new Robert responded “Consider yourself promoted, and pack your things to live with me.”