Outfit Of The Day - When You Know, You Know...

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

Wanna show me yours? Tag me!

Sneaked into a fellow suiters closet. Think he will be a bit mad, but it's so exciting to explore his collection alone!

This one really is stunning. I might even surprise him like that at work...

Switch Up: First Level

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

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

Swith Up: First Level (English Version)

My name is Ethan, I'm going to finish high school in a few months and I feel like I didn't live that experience like I was supposed to. I always hung out with my two usual friends, didn't go to parties, didn't even have my first kiss, I hung out in the shadows, like a ghost.

With nothing in particular to be remembered, a zero to the left.

Very different from other guys at my school: popular, muscular, handsome, a hit at parties. I envied them.

I wanted to be one of them with all my might.

To go beyond being a shadow that blended in with the wall in the hallways, to be like one of those big jocks, popular guys, even those “badass” looking guys who seemed to be all the rage because of that.

— This sucks - I muttered in the library, accompanied by my friends: Logan and Miles.

Logan was a chubby guy, with a few pimples on his face and a comic geek, just at that moment he seemed engrossed in everything as he had his head hidden inside a new hero tome.

— Being in the library? - Miles asked. Thin, pale and with thick glasses that made his eyes look like binoculars, he was a genius, although he had a strange hissing sound every time he spoke.

— Yeah, what about the parties? It's high school, we should be doing other things than being confined to a library like rats.

— We're not popular for that sort of thing - Logan mused, barely peeking his head out of his reading.

— Plus no one notices us - Miles complemented, making what appeared to be doodles in his notebook.

— And doesn't that frustrate you? Don't you wish that we could have more? To have more experiences, more fun, guys at our feet.

Something I forgot to mention, all three of us are gay.

— And does it help to imagine that?… You're not going to change anything by yearning for more - Logan whispered in a pessimistic tone.

I sighed, I knew he was right. I just kept quiet, with a silence between the three of us until Miles stood up suddenly, a smile on his lips.

— Eureka! - he shouted with the notebook in hand, a loud ‘Shhh’ was heard from the librarian, to which he sat back down, but without erasing that smile.

— Do you feel good? - I asked. To which he interrupted me, speaking quickly because of his excitement.

— Better than ever, I've been feeling what you describe for three years now, it's been trial after trial, failed experiments trying to find a way to get it, but I finally got it.

— What the hell are you talking about?

— This! - he held out his notebook, showing me the contents on it. What I saw as scribbles before, now made sense: they were blueprints. There was a detailed outline of some kind of rectangular box, with formulas, calculations and other symbols that I couldn't quite understand.

— A… box?

— It is a remote control. Or so it seems - he detailed, pointing to the schematic - it is a bioelectric control, it is designed to launch a double signal that exchanges neural pulses between two individuals and-

— In English, Miles.

— It is a control that would allow consciousness to be switched between two bodies.

I thought about what he was saying. But it was impossible, wasn't it? What he was describing sounded perfectly like something from science fiction movies.

— But you'd still have to assemble it, design the parts, the wiring…

— No - he said, rummaging in his backpack to pull out a small remote control, it looked like something from a garage. With two buttons: one green and one yellow - I just had to complete some calculations.

On one side, it seemed to have a knob, around it were different numbers. Miles lifted the lid to move a couple of wires or join them together, then closed it and moved the knob, looking for a frequency, I guess.

— Still, I don't think it's something possible, I mean…. I believe in you, dude, no doubt you are a genius but I think this kind of thing is beyond….

— Your mental capabilities, Miles - and out of nowhere, the speaker seemed to be Logan. With the only detail, that it wasn't really Logan, it was me.

I found myself looking at cartoons, heroes saving the world and things my friend was reading earlier. I felt heavier, but there was something weird about it all too… I felt a different weight in my pants.

I spread my legs a little, feeling something thick fall against the chair - damn, Logan sure had something hidden between his chubby legs!

I looked up warily, finding my reflection checking my pecs. He looked at them curiously, running his hands over the flat surface as he smiled.

— Were you saying something, Ethan? - Miles said with a smirk on his lips. I looked at my new hands, completely surprised by the experience. They were very different from mine, a little more pigment on them, bigger and bulkier, with small, stubby fingers. It certainly wasn't the best body but there was something about me that sent a load of blood down there. And yes, “it” was big.

— Did you just use us as guinea pigs? - My old voice rang out, it was strange to “see” me there, clearly it was me, my same face, clothes, complexion, absolutely it was all me. But the stance, the body language, the way he spoke… it was definitely Logan.

— It was a risk he was willing to take for us, besides. I had already calculated the dangers, nothing would have happened.

— And why didn't you try it on yourself?

— And what my conscience would have ended up in the air who knows where? No thanks.

I felt a little annoyance towards Miles. But all that was… spectacular. If it had worked on us, then anything could. I could been any athlete! A class rep, one of those artsy kids or the welcoming committee, a teacher, some sexy parent. Whoever!

— And now?…

— First let me try something - Miles pointed at each of us again, first at Logan, pressing the yellow button, and finally at me, pressing the green button.

I didn't feel anything. It was just from one moment to the next watching me and the other, watching Logan. I touched my body again, feeling a little more relief at finding my correct measurements. There was one detail though, my manhood was undoubtedly stiff, almost rock hard.

I looked at Logan in confusion, to which he just shrugged his shoulders.

— It was exciting to lose almost all my weight in less than a second, sorry.

There was silence between us again. Not because of discomfort, but because of all that this implied.

— And now?

— Now you choose what to do, of course - Miles settled back in his seat, almost looking like some kind of CEO proposing a new business strategy - To continue in our bodies and the miserable life we lead, or find some body we like.

There was a bit of silence. And the first to break it was Logan.

— Let's do it.

— Great, I'm glad you're both joining me in this - a smile loaded with confidence emerged from Miles - I think we have the plan, but now the million dollar question remains. Who?

There were at least three hundred of guys in the entire high school, all grades, all clubs. Tall, muscular, thin, stocky, exchange, local, wealthy, middle class. It was like walking into a buffet.

— Do you have someone in mind for you…?

— Oh, yeah, sure. Blake Jones.

— Fuck, are you kidding?! The major captain of the sports team? - Logan was unduly surprised.

Although I partly understood. Blake was good at almost every sport, he'd been the captain of at least 4 different disciplines, king of the prom, made almost every girl nervous, teachers and moms included. He was like a god walking on earth, his plan felt like taking the body of Hercules.

— Who else? - Miles raised his eyebrow, as if the question was silly - I want him, I want that greatness.

There was something in his gaze that chilled my skin, though I understood the sentiment... Miles had been in the shadows of many things just because of his looks and the way he spoke, it was clear he wanted the perfect “vehicle” to go with his brain.

— So… I want Caleb Hawks - Logan said.

Miles let out a laugh.

— Don't make it up, it's a joke, right? - But Logan was silent - The brainless guy in school with the worst smell of all, is it for real?

Miles was right, Caleb was known for his idiocy, his bad smell and for being relatively “unpleasant”. There was something about him that could be striking, he admitted, though he didn't quite know what that something was.

— Can it or can't it? - Logan said seriously.

— Yes, yes. It's your decision, chill, man - Miles said. To which it seemed to calm down Logan, so he went back to hiding behind his comic book - And you, Ethan, who will be your prize?

My mind was working like crazy, going through all the grades, all the sports and art clubs, student associations, exchange programs, teachers? It was an endless menu of options. But then I thought of him: Ruben Hernandez.

Part of the art committee, good actor, influencer and with attributes to die for, despite not being part of any sports team, he certainly had a perfect body.

— Ruben.

— The Latino?

— Will you also give me a but?

— Not at all, I'm just surprised at your choices, folks. I thought you would pick captains and jocks, but I respect your choices.

Logan looked up, finally closing the comic book.

— So when do we start?

— Easy. Everyone hunts for what they want.

Then Miles extended the control to us, waiting for whoever would take it first.

To be continued.

----

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

I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages.

This is the first part of “Switch Up”, a new series for the blog, I hope you like it, I know this first episode was a little short, but the next ones will certainly be longer to follow the whole adventure of Ethan and his friends.

See you in the next story… Who knows what body you'll occupy this time?

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The Academic Successor

Professor Harold Whitaker had long surpassed the boundaries of academia, delving into the arcane, forbidden arts that lay hidden in the forgotten tomes of the university’s basement. It was in one such text, a brittle manuscript bound in skin, that he discovered the secrets of astral projection and possession. In his failing years, his once-sharp mind now dulled by age, Harold had grown resentful of his waning physical strength and the relentless march of time that no man could outrun. But knowledge, he realized, offered a loophole.

Andrew was the professor’s favourite student, young, strong, and full of potential. A quiet, disciplined athlete, he excelled in both his studies and in his physical pursuits, the perfect vessel for Harold’s ambitions. The old professor’s plan had taken years to refine, every detail, every nuance of the incantation memorized and practiced in the stillness of his secluded study.

One night, when the moon hung heavy and full in the sky, Harold began the ritual. His ancient, brittle body collapsed on the dusty floor as his spirit tore free from its cage of flesh. The sensation was exhilarating—his soul no longer confined, free to roam the ether. He soared over the city, the dormitories, the sleeping students, until he found Andrew.

The boy slept soundly, oblivious to the force that hovered above him, a darkness that seeped through the walls of his consciousness. Harold waited, savoring the moment before he surged forward, flooding Andrew’s mind, his essence intertwining with the young man’s. There was a brief struggle, Andrew’s subconscious thrashing like a trapped animal, but Harold was relentless, pressing, squeezing, until finally, the resistance ebbed away.

When Andrew opened his eyes, it was Harold who looked out through them. He felt the strength in Andrew’s limbs, the taut muscles beneath smooth skin, the youth and vitality that had been lost to him for decades. He reveled in it, stretching, flexing his fingers, relishing the sensation of power coursing through this new body.

There was a moment of heady triumph, and then Harold—now Andrew—moved to the mirror. He took in the reflection: the boyish, chiseled features, the strong jawline, the eyes still glazed with the residue of sleep, but now with a sharper glint of intellect that was purely Harold’s. The sight filled him with a dark satisfaction.

He smirked at his reflection, flexing his new muscles. The reflection in the mirror was pure, raw potential—his to mold, his to control. The plan had worked. This body was his now, and with it, the promise of a second life, stronger and more virile than the last.

In a moment of vanity, Harold—Andrew—grabbed his phone, feeling the slick, cool glass in his hand, so unlike the heavy tomes and crumbling parchment he had been accustomed to. It was almost too easy, taking this body, this life, and making it his own. He raised the phone, aiming it at the mirror, at the image of youth and masculinity that now belonged to him. With a smirk, he captured the moment—a memento of his triumph over death, over time, over the constraints of his feeble, aging body.

He marveled at the picture on the screen. Andrew’s eyes—now his eyes—glinted with a knowing arrogance, a touch of mockery. The way he stood, arms behind his head, a casual display of power, was all Harold. He admired the sleek blue briefs, the way they hugged the boy’s—his—thighs, the powerful line of his legs, the way they showed off the musculature he had long envied.

Satisfied, he dropped the phone on the bed and stepped back to admire himself in the mirror once more. This was his body now. He ran a hand down his chest, over the tattoo—Andrew’s tattoo—and smiled, knowing the boy was screaming somewhere deep inside, unable to take back what had been so easily taken from him. Harold savored that thought, the helplessness of it all, as he flexed once more, feeling the power of his new flesh.

His gaze drifted down to the bulge in the blue briefs, the outline unmistakable, thick and substantial. A low, almost amused chuckle rumbled in his chest as he traced the outline with his fingers, the sensation both familiar and entirely new.

“Well, well, Andrew,” he murmured, the words dripping with both mockery and admiration. “You’ve been hiding quite the beast, haven’t you?”

He let his fingers linger, tracing the thick curve, feeling the warmth beneath the fabric. The way it responded to his touch was intoxicating, a powerful reminder of the youth, the virility he had reclaimed. Harold’s grin widened, more wicked now, as he watched his reflection, reveling in the mixture of Andrew’s athletic build and his own dark, twisted intellect.

“How did you manage to keep this under wraps?” he teased, his voice a low purr, dripping with false surprise. “I had no idea you were packing such a weapon.”

He gave a soft squeeze, feeling the heft, the undeniable presence. It was exhilarating, this new power, this potent masculinity that was his to command. Harold reveled in the irony, how this shy, disciplined boy had hidden something so primal, so raw, beneath that reserved exterior.

“You’ve been keeping secrets under those books and papers, Andrew,” he whispered to his reflection, his fingers tracing the shape again, more deliberately this time. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure it gets the attention it deserves.”

Harold’s eyes remained fixed on the reflection, the intensity of his gaze unyielding. The sight of Andrew’s body under his control, every muscle responding to his touch, sent a shiver of dark satisfaction down his spine. He watched the reflection with an almost obsessive focus, the way the chest rose and fell with each breath, how the abs tightened under the press of his hand.

He increased the pressure, his strokes becoming more deliberate, more intense. The fabric of the briefs stretched, outlining every inch of the hardness beneath. The sensation was overwhelming, a heady mix of power and pleasure that surged through him like a current, making his breath hitch.

His other hand roamed upwards, gliding over the sculpted contours of his chest, feeling the solid weight of muscle, the way the pectorals tensed under his fingertips. He traced the line of his abs, each ridge defined, sharp under the skin, the core of an athlete. It was intoxicating, the sheer physicality of it, the realization that this strength, this vitality, was all his now.

His hand slid lower, tracing the tight ridges of the abs, feeling the power coiled in the core, the promise of force and control. The intensity of his strokes increased, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through his new body. His eyes never wavered from the mirror, locked on the sight of his—Andrew’s—body responding to his every whim.

He could see the veins standing out on the forearm, the muscles flexing in response to the movement, the way the chest heaved as the pleasure built. It was all so perfectly aligned, the physical power of youth combined with the ruthless intellect of a man who had mastered the forbidden.

“Look at you,” Harold whispered to the reflection, his voice thick with both admiration and lust. “You were great as a student. But now… now you’re perfect... I’m perfect.”

The hand on his chest traced the sharp lines of his collarbone before sliding back down to meet the other, both hands now working in unison, increasing the intensity, feeding the growing heat that spread through his new body. His breath came faster, more ragged, the anticipation building with each stroke, each touch.

Goddamn, Andrew,” he whispered, his tone dark with both awe and twisted humor. “You’ve been sitting on this and pretending to be the quiet, unassuming student all this time?”

He squeezed again, feeling it throb in response, the fabric straining. There was a surge of triumph in Harold’s chest, a sick pleasure in knowing this was his now—his to explore, his to use. His eyes narrowed as they flicked back to the mirror, catching the incongruity of the reflection.

The thick, strong frame, the athletic build, the powerful presence, all undermined by one glaring detail: Harold’s old glasses perched on Andrew’s nose. It was a clash of identities, the young man’s face paired with the unmistakable mark of an aging scholar.

He snorted, unable to hold back the laugh that bubbled up. “Look at you, Andrew,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he continued to stroke. “A beast between the legs, and you still manage to look like a damn dork with these things on.”

With a deft movement, he pulled the glasses off, tossing them carelessly onto the bed. Without them, the reflection sharpened, Andrew’s features fully realized, leaving only this powerful, youthful body in its wake.

“Much better,” Harold murmured, admiring the image now, his hand still working through the fabric, slow and purposeful. “Now you look like what you really are, Andrew—a wolf in sheep’s clothing. And I’m going to enjoy every second of being inside this skin.”

Harold’s eyes blazed with possession, a dark hunger as he watched the reflection, every muscle in the young body straining, responding to the relentless pace he set. He could feel the power, the potential, the sheer force of what he had claimed, and it thrilled him to his core.

This was what he had worked for, what he had sacrificed for—this body, this life, this control. And as he pushed himself closer to the edge, he knew one thing with absolute certainty: he had no intention of ever letting it go.

A Body Stealer Tale: At The Metro

"He's perfect, look at the bulge in his shorts. I want you to wear him, Pres," Luke said to his boyfriend, Preston, referring to the muscular sleeping hunk in front of them.

"I was thinking the same, the guy is packing," Preston said with a smirk. He stood up and suddenly everyone inside the car stopped moving, leaving only Luke and Preston unaffected. Time didn't stop, as the car was still running, Preston had only frozen the people inside it.

He glanced back at his boyfriend, and Luke responded with a reassuring nod. Preston started to undress, when he was completely naked, he stood in front of the sleeping hunk and with his two hands, started to stretch open the hunk's mouth, opening it in an unnatural way as if the man was made of elastic.

Preston looked at his boyfriend, who was watching everything behind him with a huge smile. "I will try to make it sexy since I know you love watching this part," Preston stretched more of the hunk's mouth and slipped his right foot inside. The hunk continued looking peaceful even with a strange man with half his leg inserted into his body.

Luke was hard as he watched his boyfriend forcing his body inside the unsuspected hunk, he loved watching this part, it was the most erotic thing for him. After a few minutes, Preston finally slipped the hunk's handsome face over his and smirked at Luke, who had his pants down and his hard cock in his hand.

Luke watched as the muscular hunk stood up and walked over to him with a grin, kneeling between his legs. "Did you like watching your boyfriend wearing my muscles like a fucking shirt? You fucking freak," The hunk said, his voice was deep and powerful.

"You look so good wearing this guy, Pres"

The hunk smirked, he grabbed Luke's throbbing cock and started sucking him, making Luke moan loudly. The only sounds he could hear were the car's engine running and the slurping noises coming from the hunk deep-throating him.

"B-babe... I'm gonna cum, let me cum on his face," Luke moaned, pushing the hunk off his cock, aiming it at his face and starting to cum, coating the hunk's handsome face with his thick powerful cum.

The hunk just smirked, he cooped some of the cum and sucked his fingers clean. "I like this one, I can't wait to test out his ass," The hunk said, standing up and giving his ass a hard slap, he then turned to look at Luke. "Now is your turn, who are you're gonna pick?"

Luke glanced at the passengers' faces and noticed a handsome young man, frozen in motion like everyone else around him, as he stared at his phone.

Luke walked to the handsome young man and lifted his unmoving head to give his face a proper look. "I will wear this one."

"Good choice, the kid does have a nice package,"

Luke didn't have the powers of a body stealer like his boyfriend had, Preston had the power to turn everyone around him into a wearable bodysuit for a short period, right now everyone inside the car was a bodysuit, but in the end, when Preston turned off his powers, those who weren't worn would go back to normal.

Luke stretched open the young man's mouth and started sliding inside. When he finished putting on his new body, he sat back and pulled down his white shorts to reveal his new big cock. He gave his new shaft a few strokes and soon was spotting a massive throbbing cock, he swung it proudly to his boyfriend.

"You better get on here and ride me, I will destroy your new tight straight hole with this lad's cock," Luke ordered, his voice now a lot more juvenile.

Preston walked to him, his bodysuit being bigger and taller than Luke's bodysuit. Preston pulled down his shorts and slowly sat on Luke's bodysuit's throbbing cock. Preston started to fuck himself with the strength that came with his bodysuit, his ass pressing against Luke's bodysuit's smaller thighs.

"Oooh fuck yeah, babe! Fuck this tight straight ass on this lad's cock! AAARRGHH FUUUCKKKK...." Preston's new massive cock started to shoot cum all over the car's floor, Luke also came right after him.

They both were panting, with Preston lying his back on Luke's body, they both shared a long and sloppy kiss while Luke's cock was still inside Preston. Suddenly, they heard the automated announcement come through the speakers.

"Attention passengers, we are now approaching Lunar Bay Station. This is the final stop on this line. Please make sure to take all personal belongings with you as you exit the train."

Luke and Preston sat back to where their bodysuits were originally sitting, and suddenly everyone in the car started moving again, completely unaware of the loss of time. When they arrived at the station, before walking out of the car, the muscular tattooed hunk winked at the handsome young man. The young man followed right after him with a visible hard-on in his tight white shorts.

The car's door closed behind them; four men had walked in, but only two walked out.

Alpha to Omega

𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗟𝗜𝗖𝗜𝗧 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧: This story contains explicit content and themes of possession, mind control and body swapping, with a sensual and erotic approach. If this type of content is not to your liking or you are not old enough, we recommend that you do not continue.

All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them, and they are used for illustrative purposes only.

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

𝗔𝗹𝗽𝗵𝗮 𝘁𝗼 𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗴𝗮: (English version)

This is me:

Although I wasn't always like this... This used to be my body:

Or at least it was until he stole it from me. I loved how good I looked working out, how my muscles bulged and the compression shirt got tighter and tighter the more I sweated. I was an alpha, I could see how all the other men in the gym looked at me, some with jealousy, some with complete lust. If I dropped my pants in the middle of the gym, at least one would jump down and worship me right then and there. That day was not unlike any other. I was in the gym, enjoying the way my biceps were swelling as I flexed with the barbell. I could barely laugh under my breath, noticing how some people were looking at me out of the corner of their eyes, others less obvious were staring at my bulge or my chest. And what about my scent. I loved my scent, how stinky I smelled, how the stench penetrated with a simple smell.

I kept pumping my muscles, until I noticed him: He was occupying a nearby machine. At first I didn't pay much attention to him, until I noticed his outfit. He looked clingy, nothing to the imagination, barely had slightly wet skin. But there was something that caught my attention much more: his ass. Fat and round, perfectly trapped in that black and white full body suit, even the slightest movement made it bounce. It took so much not to get an erection at that very moment. But I guess I ended up giving in at some point: I remember my huge erection, sticking against the spandex fabric, making me grunt and groan low as I continued to lift those weights. I kept imagining what it would be like to have his ass in my hands, my chin against his huge ass and how tight it would feel, I was so lost I didn't even realize I was facing him.

— Are you still using those weights? — he commented in a soft tone. Up close he looked even more tempting, with his pale skin, his soft lips and those eyes hidden behind his glasses; he looked so tender. So tender as to break him.

— A while longer, yes — I grunted, widening my muscles more for him, even lifting my armpit a little. Who knows, maybe the scent would make it clear to him who would own him.

— Can you let me know when you vacate them? — the boy smiled — And. I hope you don't mind, since when do you train? I wish I was as strong as you.

— Almost 5 years — I mumbled — although sometimes it's more a matter of genetics, not everyone can have this physique. I smiled egocentrically. To which he only seemed to laugh softly.

— I'll say. Well, I'll see you later then.

And without further ado, he turned his back to me to move forward, wiggling his fat ass in the process. Damn, I wish so hard to had him. The routine went on as usual, and he seemed to disappear from the gym.

After finishing the last set, I grabbed my towel, discreetly sniffing my stench, I advanced to the bathrooms, I would stop by before showering and changing. At that hour there was almost no one there, so I took the opportunity to advance to the penultimate cubicle. I sat on the toilet, noticing a hole in the wall. 

《 Fuck.... is that a glory hole? 》— I could only think to myself. I moved closer, noticing how there was someone on the other side. I smiled. I stood up to immediately put my hard cock in that hole, first I felt nothing... until the wetness of his tongue welcomed me.

I gasped, smiling.

Whoever was on the other side of the wall was doing excellent. I could feel him devouring my 18cm cock, gagging, stroking it and swallowing it again like there was no tomorrow, listening to his moans, but not saying anything.

— Do you want milk, bitch? — I murmured. I only heard a soft gasp which I took as a yes. To which I started to thrust my cock in and out to fuck his throat.

I started to feel a tingling in my abdomen, I was so desperate to come in his mouth. However, an electric sensation was also in the air. I moaned, starting to come in his mouth, but instead of feeling pleasure, I felt as if I was detached from my soul. In a desperate attempt, I managed to pull back to separate myself. 

It was completely useless, as it all ended up getting lost in a deep black. 

When I opened my eyes again, I felt a liquid in my mouth, with a bitter taste that I immediately spat out, accompanied by a strange sensation that invaded me, ignorance; I looked around me, without recognizing the place where I was now, everything being very dark and big.

Had I shrunk?... No. I looked down, noticing that I was on my knees. No. I looked down, noticing I was on my knees, got up as best I could, but still felt small, vulnerable and weak. What the fuck had happened? From the cubicle next door, I heard a strangely familiar laugh, and then I heard him slam the door to run out. 

What was going on? I dizzily stepped out of the cubicle. It felt like I was raw, to which I brought my hand to my head.

— Ugh... — I muttered. 

But a soft voice was what sounded instead of my usual deep tone, I looked at my hands, noticing hands that didn't belong to me: my hands used to be big, strong and rough, but now I found myself with soft, thin and small hands. I immediately looked in the mirror, noticing that boy from before.

— What?...

I moved closer. To the mirror, noticing that boy's soft and delicate features, his arms, which although marked didn't feel anything like mine, his thin chest and curly hair. He didn't even have a single speck of hair, and his scent was too faint, smelling more like his cologne which seemed to have notes of citrus. 

I knew I should be perfectly upset, angry about what had just happened. But something in me...felt different. I brought my hands to my new pecs, gasping at the slightest touch. It was as if this boy's body was always aroused, even the slightest brush against my clothes made me shiver. I wanted to explore myself right there. However, a very strange feeling for me of embarrassment lodged in my chest.

So I better check my suit pockets, finding a locker key, I timidly walked to the locker area and then opened the drawer with the key. Finding a backpack, wallet and other things. I opened the wallet, finding an ID. Apparently my new name was Max Jones.

I headed for the exit once I found the address of my new home. It felt different being on the street, I no longer felt strong or manly, I felt small and seen by everyone, men noticed my new fat ass, how it was marked when I walked. Something inside me felt bad about how they looked at me, but another, I was completely turned on.

I ended up arriving at that apartment, it looked well arranged, a bit of a contrast to my old apartment that was always in disarray with dirty clothes everywhere; I could not stand it any longer and ended up taking off my suit, leaving only what seemed to be a green thong that highlighted my ass even more.

I knew it was all wrong. That that wasn't my body, that I didn't act like that...but this body. It always seems to be horny, like in heat. I started rubbing myself against the couch, panting. My hands went to my new ass to caress it.

— Shit, yeah...

I had never been passive in my old body. I didn't like the idea of being submissive to another man, I loved being the dominant one, being worshipped. But now... it felt so strange.

Like all I wanted was something in my ass. I stroked my entrance through the thong, panting, lost in pleasure; it seemed my neurons couldn't take any more, as if this body was always horny, or in heat. I moaned, enjoying the sensations of just rubbing myself. I wanted more, I needed more.

I immediately stood up to walk to the boy's room. I was so horny... but strangely ignored my phallus, although, it was erect and seemed to measure about 16cm, I wasn't interested in touching it. I was interested in touching my ass, squeezing my fat buttocks, or sticking my fingers in my hole. Fuck... What was happening to me?

I approached the boy's closet, finding a myriad of revealing clothes or clothes that I was merely curious to try on his body.

I was so lost in excitement that I didn't even pay attention to when the phone vibrated. I looked at it closely, noticing the message from an unknown number.

My old number.

“Hey, bitch. or should I call you Max now? I guess you were right about this body not being earned by just anyone, I look good, don't you think? Haha.

That wasn't body, but the original Max, or who knows who, traded us and escaped. Good luck dealing with being a bitch with hormones raging, you won't think about anything but cock if you don't get fucked. 

Whatever. Thanks for the body, bitch.”

And he added a picture as a reminder:

I groaned as I read how he talked to me, I loved that he treated me like this. I picked out more clothes that would fit this new body, that would show off my huge ass. It didn't matter how masculine I was in my previous body, now I just wanted to be treated like the slut I was.

Once dressed, I made a Grindr account, took pictures of myself, eager for the thousands of messages from muscular men ready to use me as their dump. Once I found one I liked, very similar to my old body, I messaged him:

—  Hi, daddy;)

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm not an English speaker, so I used a translator to bring it to your language (apologies if the wording is a bit weird). If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it. I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments.

See you in the next story… Who knows what body you'll occupy this time?

A Body Stealer Tale: A Walk At The Park

Me and my boyfriend were strolling through the desertic park at night while holding hands when a straight couple walked past us. Both of us immediately turned our heads, drawn to the sight of the hot man holding his girlfriend's hand. He was gorgeous—muscular, tall, and effortlessly charming in that way that made you stop and stare. My boyfriend stopped walking and gave me a knowing look. I grinned and nodded at him, giving him permission to do his thing. We didn’t have to say anything.

He gave me a quick peck on the lips before casually trailing behind the couple. I found a bench nearby and sat down, waiting for him to work his magic. The park was quiet and dark, kinda scary. But I tried not to think about that. After all, I didn’t have the kind of power my boyfriend had—the power to turn people into wearable bodysuits—to protect myself.

About fifteen minutes later I saw the hot muscular boyfriend striding confidently toward me. My heart skipped a beat as I took in the sight of him. His shirt was unbuttoned now, exposing his massive muscular pecs. His nipples were big and pink, practically begging for attention, and his smug smirk told me he knew exactly the effect he was having on me.

He sat besides me on the bench.

"Well, well," he drawled with his baritone voice. "I heard you're a hungry boy for Daddy's tits. Don’t worry, Daddy’s got the milkers. Go on, suck on my nipples."

I didn’t need to be told twice. I leaned forward like I was starving, my lips latching onto one of his thick nipples with primal hunger. I flickered his nipple with my tongue and he groaned low in his throat, closing his fingers through my hair to press me closer.

"Yeah, that’s it," he rumbled as he held me on his muscular arms. "Worship these pecs like a good boy."

I switched to his other nipple, flicking my tongue against it before sucking hard, and his reaction was immediate. I ran my hands over his pecs and squeezed them hard.

"What did you do with his girlfriend?" I asked between licks.

He chuckled darkly, pulling me away from his chest to look me in the eyes. "Don’t worry about her," he said, his tone teasing. "Let’s just say she’s out of the picture. Now, focus on what’s important: enjoying our new bodysuit." He then pulled me for a passionate kiss.

I glanced up at him, my boyfriend now fully in control of the hot guy’s body. This never gets boring no matter how many times he does it.

He started flexing his pecs in front of me, making them bounce hypnotically. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. "This one is going to look amazing in our collection. His pecs are so huge that we could just fold him and use them as pillows. Do you want to cum on his pecs before we go home?"

I didn’t respond with words. Instead, I told him to kneel in front of me and he obeyed. I pulled down my pants and started to furiously jerk off right there in the open, aiming my cock at his chest. It didn't took long and I came on his massive pecs, coating them with my seed, some even landed on his handsome face. I pressed the tip of the head on his nipple and we both laughed.

We walked out of the park hand in hand. His shirt was still open, proudly displaying his cum covered pecs.

A Body Stealer Tale: Magic Hands

People looked at me oddly, questioning why I wore black gloves at the beach. I assure you there's a good reason for it. My hands are just too powerful, they can accomplish almost anything I desire. It was a gift I was born with. Wearing gloves would block the power so I wouldn't use it by accident.

Just like now, the weather was becoming cold and the sky grey. So I took off one of my gloves, and with a simple wave of my hand, the weather became sunny and perfect for a beach day.

After a while, the beach started to get more crowded, and that was when I noticed this group of guys playing soccer on the sand. One of them caught my attention the most. He was an absolute hunk in white speedos, his muscles glistened with sweat as he showed off his soccer skills by doing kick-ups. He was exactly my type of man.

I took off my right glove and snapped my fingers, and just like that, everything and everyone around me stopped in time. The distant sounds of conversations and the sounds of waves ceased.

Everything became dead silent.

I walked towards the frozen hunk, he was about to kick the ball, and the ball was frozen mid-air. I casually pushed the ball out of the way and stood in front of him to give the hunk a closer inspection. I just had to cup a feel of that body before wearing him. So I took off my left glove, and gently caressed his muscular sweaty chest. I pinched his nipples a little and even twisted them—I knew I would feel that later.

My hand slowly moved down towards his white speedos and found its way inside. I grabbed his shaft and pulled his huge dick out. He was very well hung, 8 Inches soft I would say. I kneeled right there on the sand and started to suck him off. His cock and balls were musky, which only added to the flavor. It was hot to suck this frozen hunk right in front of his friends. He became hard inside my mouth in less than a minute.

Though he wasn't aware, his body still responded to sexual stimulation. However, he couldn't climax in this state, so his body kept accumulating sexual energy. I continued sucking and pleasuring this frozen hunk's body until I was certain he had stored a lot of sexual energy, just waiting to be released."

I stood up and walked behind him. I then concentrated and pressed the tip of my index finger on his nape, a faint glow formed at the part I was touching his nape—a clear sign my power was working. I then slowly ran my finger down his spine, until I reached his coccyx. Leaving a glowing opening right where I ran my finger.

I then started pulling open his back like a suit. Inside him, you would expect to be dark and hollow, but there was only a bright light inside of him. I pulled open his back until there was enough space for me to step inside. First, I inserted my legs inside his, then I put on his upper body, and for last, I put his face on.

As soon as his face slid into place over mine, I felt the opening on his back sealing and that's when I suddenly was hit by a strong wave of sexual pleasure—All the pleasure I gave his body while he was frozen resumed as soon as the body-stealing process finished.

I let out a deep baritone moan as my knees weakened and my new huge hard cock started spurting cum at the sand. This was my favorite trick, nothing like experiencing orgasm in a different body.

I looked down at my huge cock still pulsating and shooting its last drops of cum. At last, I pulled his white speedos back up and snapped my fingers, resuming time. The soccer ball fell to the sand and his friends looked confused at me, expecting me to kick the ball to them.

"Sorry guys, I think I'm just going to relax a little. See you guys later." I put my sunglasses on and walked to the beach chair I was lying before. As I relaxed on the chair, I allowed my new tattooed hands to explore my new muscles. My nipples were aching but that didn't stop me from playing with them. This guy had sensitive nipples, so I couldn't help but moan.

People started to give me weird looks. I guess it was weird for a man to be moaning while playing with his nipples in public. So I made a gesture with my hand, making everyone at the beach ignore me and think I wasn't doing anything wrong.

Now that I had some privacy, I began exploring my new body in earnest. I pulled off the white speedos and stroked my huge shaft, moaning like a madman while no one batted an eye.

There was nothing like a relaxing day at the beach.

Beneath Their Feet

The football bus was filled with the kind of energy you’d expect after a big game they had won—sweaty, cocky footballers sprawled out, joking around, and teasing each other. Their musky scent was everywhere, a mix of sweat and testosterone. They were so lost in messing around that none of them noticed their driver slightly convulsing in his seat, his eyes rolling back as the bus stopped at a red light. For a few seconds, his body shook in his seat, stopping just in time for the green light.

His face was completely blank now as he drove the bus. But he didn’t take the usual route this time. Instead, he turned down into a secluded parking lot. This time, the players noticed and started asking questions.

The bus doors hissed open, and that’s when a short, nerdy guy with messy hair and thick glasses stepped onto the bus, clutching a jar filled with what looked like tiny, buzzing insects. The jocks went silent, their laughter replaced by confused stares as the guy stopped, eyeing them all like he was sizing them up.

The bugs in the jar seemed to grow agitated, their wings buzzing furiously inside the glass. He grinned, enjoying the moment as his eyes scanned the sea of muscle and sweat before him. “I think they will do nicely,” he whispered to the bugs, then turned to the driver. “Close the doors now,” he ordered.

The driver obeyed, and as soon as the doors shut, the guy popped the lid open, releasing the creatures.

The buzzing grew louder as the bugs swarmed the bus. The footballers didn’t stand a chance. They swatted at them at first, some even ran towards the closed doors, but the bugs were too fast. One by one, they forced their way into the players’ ears, their needle-like legs digging in, burrowing deep into their brains. The jocks’ eyes rolled back, their hot athletic bodies convulsing and twitching as the aliens took full control. The nerd watched with a large grin as their bodies stiffened, then relaxed, their faces falling into blank, obedient expressions. They sat back in their seats as if nothing had happened.

The nerd spotted two cute jocks sitting in the front seats with their socked feet resting on the empty seats in front of them.

“Like our feet, you perv? Come here and take a taste,” the two jocks said in perfect unison.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He took the seat in front of them and leaned in close. The smell hit him first—sweat, dirt, that raw scent only athletes seemed to have. He licked slowly, his tongue running against their socks, wet with the day's sweat. He savored every second, every musky scent, as the jocks watched, smiling down at him.

He pulled off their socks and then feasted on their soles. He grabbed one foot from each jock and buried his face between them, inhaling deeply and passionately.

He pulled his face away and ordered them to worship each other's feet—and they did, making his cock throb harder under his pants.

But it wasn’t just them. The back of the bus, where the loudest and cockiest jocks usually gathered to mess around, was now full of grinning faces.

“Come lick my soles!” a hot Daddy wearing a Rolex watch called out, lifting his foot toward him.

“No, worship mine! They taste better,” another chimed in, propping his leg up over a seat, his toes wiggling, teasing the stranger.

“Bullshit, I’ve got the dirtiest feet,” a third one added, holding his foot up like it was a trophy—a challenge he knew the guy wouldn’t resist.

The nerd’s head spun with excitement. He crawled between the seats, eyes wide with lust, running his tongue over each jock’s foot that was offered to him. He savored their musk, the sweat, the pure masculinity of it all. The football players, now completely under the aliens' control, practically begged for the gay man's attention, pushing their feet toward his face.

Some even took off their shirts and flexed their bodies in a desperate attempt to have their feet worshiped by the gay stranger. He moved from one to the next, his face buried in their soles, overwhelmed by the strong musk each one had. The smell of their socks and the sound of their laughter as they watched him worship them was too much for him. He pulled down his pants and started using one of the players' feet to jerk himself off.

Before long, at his command, the whole team was naked and fucking each other in a depraved orgy. The nerd licked the jocks' sweaty muscles as they fucked their teammates, he worshiped their jock feet hanging in the air as they were being fucked.

The bus was his playground now, filled with jocks who had been transformed into mindless drones, ready and willing to give him whatever he wanted.

He decided to fuck the hot Daddy while burying his face in his long musky soles.

The nerd just loved taking over an entire bus of jocks—it was his favorite personal sport.