Switch Up: Ethan's Relief

Spinoff: The Man That Lost Everything

The finale. Read the previous part here

Thomas sits in the back of Detective Wade's car, his hand clasped and his statuesque, long legs found itself to fit into the back of the small FBI sedan. But despite feeling uncomfortable, he's at peace knowing that he's doing the right thing by eventually snitching on Cole after years of mental and physical torture inflicted by his stepfather and his goons. Heck, even hundreds of miles away and he still tortured by Cole's accomplices, but it's not going to be long before he can take a full, relieved breath when all of his tormentor captured in this sting joint operation led by Wade's FBI unit.

He informed Detective Wade about this possible shipment from the cartel in this abandoned port around 1 hour from their hometown. He still remembered when Cody first drove him all the way to the abandoned port. The ride was rough and felt very long because not only the roads were in bad shape, Cody forced Thomas to "hide his head" to not alert the police by resting his face right on Cody's sweaty, mesh shorts right on his bulging crotch. He knew it was a blatant cruel lie from Cody because why would the police cared about him, but not like he could fight himself against the 6'3" 245 lbs towering blonde hunk

He made that kind of trips around 11 times but stopped altogether last year, yet he still remembered vividly the way to reach the place and the usual schedule of shipment. Thomas got this info because as far away he tried to move out from Cole's sphere of influence, with him still in the Air Force, he practically heard his own compromised leaders talked about this shipment. Shipment days are also usually when the whole crew gathered for plan adjustment and whatnot from what Thomas learned, so it's the perfect time for an ambush to catch them all in one sweeping move

Heavy rain splashed the car's window and limited the vision for the night drive, but Thomas still believed that everything is still going on according to the plan. Rain won't stop those thugs, he thought, his head rested to the window as the sound of the rain lulled him with sense of security. Thomas missed out the fact that Detective Wade and his partner are grinning from ear-to-ear cupping their stolen hard-on thinking how fun the night's going to be when they will all circle the poor and naive Timid Tommy when they drop this act sooner or later

Acting as if he never visited the port, Detective Wade asked Thomas with a slight smirk to lead the direction once they reached a more beaten path. Thomas, obvious to the trap he's walking himself in, directed the detectives with excited detail to the point of it sounded like a sickening child giddily receiving his present

"Oohhh....be careful, there's a hole 150 meters from here,"

"You want to take the right side of the street for 500 meters until you see this signage because the left side is badly damaged,"

"It's so dark but I know there's a sharp left turn in about 75 meters, watchout!"

Wade rolled his eyes everytime Thomas warned him, the shrill sound really just asked to be punched or something, Wade thought to himself. But, he managed to keep his cool and finally arrive at the abandoned seaport complex

"Well, here we are. I think we should go on foot, the rain stops already," Detective Wade said as he opened the car door and walked out to the wet, muddy soil

"Yeah, that sounds about right. I will direct you guys from the back, then?" said Thomas as he checked all his belongings before exiting the car

"Uh huh, we need to keep you safe, Thomas. Let me and my boys do the work. I will also ask for the naval and aerial backup to start flying now," Detective Wade said as he checked his guns and reached for his cellphone while proceeding to talk to his fellow detective

"Naval and aerial backup?" asked Thomas as he gets out from the left side of the passenger door, putting distance between him and the two detectives

"Yeah, boats and helicopter. We need to surround the entire area anyway. They are nearby so it will take them less than 10 minutes," said Detective Wade with his back still facing Thomas, he's deep in conversation with the other officers that started to gather around him

"Wait--- but I thought that---"

"Put the vest on, okay, let's gather outside and then you can show us the way,"

"O-- ohh okay. I just, backup--- isn't this your first time----

"What did you say again, Thomas?"

"Uh.....ohh, nothing. Sorry to interrupt you. It's that way, 400 meters straight and then take the right turn. They are usually in the one warehouse very close to Dock 3,"

"Dock 3, got it. Okay boys, let's move very gently, we don't want to alert them, okay?"

When all the guns drawn and countless police officers started to yell "NOPD!" a couple minutes later, Thomas face started to brighten up. There they are......his tormentors.....all raising their hands and face looking pale as fuck. The drugs are still being processed and they are seemingly very surprised they have 0 times to reach for their weapon stash or clarify what are these bunch of rag-tag military officers and veteran doing late at night in an abandoned port. Thomas witnessed Cody being pinned to the floor and hand's cuffed, he tried to resist but it's futile as the officer pressed Cody's back with his knee and several guns clearly directed at him. The same goes with the bunch of vets in their brown shirt looking disgruntled and pissed off and there's also the active military bunch like Sergeant Jacobs, Senior Airmen Mendes, Technical Sergeant Chadstone and others that try to talk to their apprehending officers. But the grand prize of it all is seeing Cole Armstrong cuffed by Detective Wade, his facial expression turned from desolate to anger once he spots Thomas

"YOU! FUCKING PUSSY! FUCK YOU!" roared Cole, which caused Thomas to flinch yet Detective Wade quickly subdued him to the ground

"Enough with the antics, Armstrong! Thanks to Thomas, we finally captured you and your goons. You will have plenty to explain later down the station, that I can guarantee,"

"Detective Wade. I need to tell you one more thing. You can also probably tell your boys to do the same thing as what I'm about to do,"

Thomas steps closer to reach Cole and then after staring right at his deep blue eyes, he grabbed Cole's thick neck. Cole screamed in agony and tried to break free from the cuff, he screamed "no" countlessly and tried to wriggle himself free to no avail. Much to the surprised look that Thomas peeked from Detective Wade's face, there's a layer of skin beneath Cole Armstrong tanned white skin. It's glistening dark skin, albeit a bit light, like cafe latte and then with one final swoop as if taking off a hoodie, a slightly smaller head appear on top of Cole Armstrong's body

"They are all body suits, Detective. Skin of our patriotic soldiers taken and used by thugs like DeShawn Martell and his crew to advance their criminal enterprises,"

"Well, just like me," and suddenly, a left hook from Detective Wade landed squarely on Thomas face that instantly caused him to fall to the floor. His head spins like crazy and his ear ringing as he's clearly going to lose his consciousness, the last thing he heard is the loud "whoa brother!" from Shawn and the sight of the cruel smirk from Detective Wade that hovered above him

When Thomas finally wakes up, he's tied to a chair and positioned in the middle of the warehouse. Yet, everything is cleared up, no sight of the police raid or even the drug shipment, only lines of thugs standing in front of him with crumpled rubbery skin and discarded clothes in front of them. But there's no Shawn in the lineup, because he's standing behind Thomas with a syringe and only when he speaks that Thomas realized that Shawn is behind him, still in his prized Cole bodysuit

"How's my acting earlier, boy? Convincing enough?"

Thomas eyes went wide. Acting? This is merely a set-up? All of this??? Where's Detective Wade?

"Well, well, well......thinking you're slick huh, don't you boy? Do you really think it's gonna be that easy to take me down? I run this shit for almost a decade, I thought of almost all possible scenario already,"

Thomas gritted his teeth, his mind screaming in all differing direction as he's definitely not going to get out of this situation in pristine condition.

"But have to admit, Wade is close. New detective and all their excitement, I guess. Clearly he doesn't know how we run things over here, am I right, Captain Bostick?"

Like a sick, twisted joke, one of the guy, tattoed from head to toe and looking clearly from the bad part of the town then steps up to grab the rubbery suit in front of him and not long after, Captain Bostick that leads the local PD stands up buck-naked with a sly smirk

"Wade clearly didn't know how to play, lucky he's a reformed man now," the Captain said as he put on his clothes while glancing at this bleached-blonde thug.

The bleached-blonde thug that cannot be older than 22 steps to the front and grabbed the crumpled rubbery skin, donning on Detective Wade as if it's a mere overall or simple clothing

"Tada," he said with a smile as he rotated himself around and even saliciously twerk his ass as if he's not a respected FBI detectives. He put on his shorts to hide his growing uncut monster as he explained how Marquis took down the detective right after his initial interview with Thomas before swapping suits with him just a couple days ago when Detective Wade came barging through Thomas apartment

"ANSWER MY GODDAMN FUCKING QUESTION, THOMAS! DO YOU KNOW WHAT KIND OF ENTERPRISES YOUR STEPFATHER RUNS? HAHAHAHHA damn, remember that shit bro? It was all me,"

Thomas felt like a he just got hit with a punch in the gut. The detective has been taken over for that long, and he didn't notice anything different.......

"I open my net wide, Tommy. My brother. My veteran friend. My active duty friend. They are not enough. So I obviously expand. The police. The rich trust fund baby that tried to sober up and stop buying shit from us. The ICE agents.....the FBI. Yeah, it's a work of a decade, but as you can see, I'm making my mark everywhere. And you naively think that I can be taken down that easy? You fool," Cole said as he then literally punched Thomas right in the gut. If not for the rope that tied him, Thomas would be slumping to the floor already

"Folks, talk to your brothers about possible switch-ups, in 5 minutes, we're starting something fun,"

As the crowd gets louder trying to get each other's bodysuit, Cole leans closer to Thomas ear to deliver the point he wanted his stepson to hear

"You've seen quite a lot and you literally snitched on my whole scheme to an FBI agent, so, this is what will happen---"

The more he listened to Cole, the paler he becomes, and he turned as white as a porcelain when he realized that all of the thugs already slid themselves inside their respective suit, looking spotless and clearlg not the type to engage in the sort of criminal endeavor happened in this warehouse. Thomas even wet himself as the last person, Sergeant Arroyo, finished with tightening his boots, his looming fate becomes closer and he can only rely on himself to get out of this situation. Cole then cut the rope that tied him and that's when Thomas started to make a run for his life, all the other men followed suit 10 seconds later as a leg-up for the scaredy Thomas. He sprinted his way to the entrance of the port, trying to get himself inside one of the cars driven by the police and FBI agents and go as fast and as far as he can. Yet, just 200 metres away to the first car, a figure wearing visible white t-shirt appeared out of nowhere from behind the parked cars and practically blocking Thomas way to reach the car.

"Hey there bud, Cole told me you'll go this way, guess you're very predictable huh,"

"Don't get any closer, I have a gun!"

"It's no more loaded, dumbass," the guy said as he lunged at Thomas, both men trying to pin each other with the stranger having the leverage over Thomas

"All these muscle you built, for nothing. Guess that's why Cole said I'll run your body and life better,"

Thomas eyes went wide with the revelation. It turned even wider when he found out that Cole is not the only one with the serum as this stranger takes out the syringe out of his pocket and start trying to jab Thomas. He tried to resist his best and fight yet just when his other chaser turned from the corner and headed their way, the stranger already jabbed Thomas right by his neck, rendering Thomas unconscious as per the deflated procedure. Just like the last time he passed out earlier tonight, a grin became his last vision, this time from the stranger. Yet at the same time, he feels it. The sense of emptiness that claws from within.....ohhh this really is the last time he's going to be alive, right? He pondered about his fate while gazing at the clear dark blue sky, life ended tragically in an abandoned, muddy seaport, yet no one knows about it since he will still be alive for his close friends and family as this thug will probably assume his identity and lived his life to the fullest. Oh, to simply have another night......must be a blessing

---

Thomas Parker returned to the good grace of his stepfather, much to the delight of his mother that finally can see his two favorite person in the world live amicably. Thomas seemed to be more confident and outgoing too, the military life clearly brought something positive after all these years for Thomas, or so his mom thought. She of course has no idea that the way Cole and Thomas plus Cody bonded so well nowadays happened because they all worked for the same cause and with "Thomas" finally stop acting like a bitch, all falls into place perfectly. For Cole, this is finally a perfect family and societal setting for him. Loving wife, reliable brother and his stepson finally having the same mindset as his, not to mention the supportive friends he gathered, clearly a very great way to enjoy one's retirement

---

Whoa, it's been a while since I fully finished a multi-part story LOL. As usual, thanks for the constant motivation to push through @thesuitaskin you and the others enjoying this sort of fueled me to wrap things up. Feel free to add things up like exploring more on Cody's character or other angles, it's an open book after all. I am looking at your other story with excitement but I guess this guy is my next target since I have tons of his picture that I need to use, but I don't have plot yet for it, so, a momentary break maybe?

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.

Blessing you all this Christmas with this transformative holy water excreted out from my body which will shed all your nerdiness and all those lame quality in yours and replace it with something much more fitting for you to hang around and join me in this quest for worshipping our own muscle and glory. Stay blessed, brother

Brother's Issues

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.

Brother's Issues (English Version)

My older brother was infuriating. A guy with more ego than brains, but who had such an enviable body that it further reinforced his smug attitude.

The fights in my house were constant, the idiot left his clothes all over the place and hardly showered! He was always bragging about his "man smell"; and of course, being the oldest, my parents let him do whatever he wanted. He always got away with it, and I could only die of envy.

Mark was the big brother while I just made do with the scraps, I don't think I'm unattractive, but when you compare a river to the sea, clearly the sea is going to win.

He always got everyone's attention: teachers, family, even my ex-boyfriends; even if he wasn't gay, they always ended up confessing to me that what they wanted was to be near him.

And I was fed up.

I had been lost on the Internet for at least two hours in the wee hours of the morning, not seeing anything interesting until an email seemed to arrive.

"Want to be someone else? Read this email."

The first thing I did was close the message. It was ridiculous, sure it was some kind of spam mail. But the more time passed, an extra curiosity began to tingle in me, until I couldn't take it anymore. I ended up opening it and reading it.

It had a series of instructions on how to prepare a concoction with rather curious ingredients, but that would cause two people to change their bodies when they drank it.

Again I thought it was all stupidity, when I heard something crashing again and again against my wall from my brother's room, and the excited screams of a girl who was probably his fling today, like almost every night.

I had reached my limit.

The next morning, I set about gathering all the ingredients, until I finally came up with the last one: the other person's sweat, I thought it would be difficult, but I remembered that my brother left his sweaty underwear everywhere in the house. That morning, he was out, so I thought it would be easy to sneak into his room to steal some boxers.

No sooner had I entered his room than I had filled my nostrils with a pungent odor, the whole stench of my brother was quite strong. It looked like he hadn't cleaned his room in years and it just smelled like sweat and his fluids, it stank...

I was going through his dirty clothes when I heard the thunder of the wood on his door, my skin crawled, expecting a knock. But my brother wasn't standing in the frame, but his best friend: Theo.

— What are you doing here, buddy?

Theo was a nice guy, I didn't know how he was friends with my brother. His blond hair was silky, his smile was bright...

And I'd had a crush on him for as long as I could remember.

I didn't know if it was because he treated me well, because he was a good person and kind, or all together. But gosh, he sure drove me crazy.

— N-nothing. I was about to pick up Mark's laundry.

— Is he making you do his laundry again?

I swallowed hard right then and there.

— Uh, yeah, yeah.

— Let me help you.

He came over to me to lift the basket and carry it to the laundry room, my heart was beating fast.

I didn't know if it was because I was afraid Mark would come in at any moment and notice the absence of his sweaty clothes, or if it was from being with Theo.

— Well, buddy, there's the laundry. I'll wait for your brother in his room, see you.

He waved his hands, disappearing. As soon as he left, I dived into the pile of stinky clothes, trying to find the freshest thing possible. I grabbed a pair of red underpants, they felt wet and smelly, I tried not to smell them but ended up stuffing them in my face. Soon that would be my smell...

I gathered the rest of the ingredients, prepared it in a jar and when I squeezed the sweat out of it, I swear I saw how it shined.

I let it sit until the next morning. I knew my brother was going out to work out as usual, so I always prepared his protein for the gym; before he went out, I opened the glass to pour half of the liquid and run back to my room.

The rest of the time passed slowly, I didn't know whether to drink the rest of the concoction, what if something went wrong, what if I ended up doing something bad to my brother?

Thousands of questions tormented me, but I caught a glimpse of my brother's body: Tall, stocky, with his stinky armpits, his strong legs, how his arms swelled or his big pecs. All that could be mine, at last not just the puny brother, I could be the big one.

I ended up drinking all the concoction, up to the last drop; for an instant I felt nothing, until suddenly I felt a cramp accompanied by an intense pain and dizziness, I fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, feeling my whole body trembling and my vision went black.

In less than a second, I could see light again. However, something felt strange from the moment I blinked. Maybe it was the aroma I was now emanating, the place where I was now or the noise of weights and sports machinery being used.

I looked down, noticing my tanned skin, my thick pecs and muscles, yes I was strong!

I couldn't help but let out an excited laugh and dropped the weights my brother was carrying moments before, I almost looked like a schoolgirl with emotions running high.

I immediately dropped everything, walking uncertainly towards the bathrooms or the locker room. As soon as I saw my new reflection, it was like feeling an adrenaline rush, I was seeing my brother's reflection! I flexed his arms, enjoying how my arms and chest were swelling up. Gosh, yes!

I lifted my armpit, beginning to lick and sniff, enjoying the aroma. I clutched my nose against my new hairy armpit, panting loudly as if unhinged.I caressed every inch of my new skin, bristling at the slightest touch. I smiled smugly.

— Oh yes, my name is Mark.... – I murmured, taking the opportunity to touch the relief of my brother's pecs, letting out a squeal from the sensitivity – I'm the star athlete of my high school, a real casanova – I was loving every second, seeing how what I was saying, my brother was making exact copy of it – I used to like girls but now.... I don't know, bro. I think I'll only like boys.

I was drunk with power. I ended up leaving the gym after finding my brother's stuff, I didn't even change, I enjoyed feeling how the wet clothes stuck against my skin, the stench my body gave off, even how other guys saw me.

I ended up getting home, I didn't hear any noise, everything was quiet. I knew my parents were at work, so I went upstairs, straight to my room.

I was scared to find my brother in my body, awake. My heart was pounding... but when I opened the door, I could see my old body lying on the floor, asleep.

I smiled, I couldn't help but scoff inwardly, I even moved him slightly to see if he would react.

—You're not so strong anymore, are you, little brother? – I said teasingly.

I simply turned around, closing the door to go to my brother's room. I lifted my armpit, smiling at the scent; now I understood why he was addicted to smelling that bad.

I started rummaging through his closet, beginning to try on all of his clothes. There was something exciting about it that made my skin crawl.

I put on everything I could get my hands on: Sport shirts, shorts, skinny jeans, leather jackets. It was fun, until I found something in a drawer that made my new member firm up instantly. It was a smelly sports spandex, it was my brother's wrestling uniform. I suddenly took off my clothes to put that on instead, I smiled as I saw it fit perfectly on my body, all in place.

My fat legs encased in the tight fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination. I sat in a chair my brother had in front of his mirror, leaning back.

Loving the way I looked, I picked up his phone to start taking pictures of myself, letting my strong muscles show, or my armpits, I even made the occasional silly face.

I was a brainless jock now, wasn't I?

I sniffed hard at my new masculinity, taking advantage of the friction to drive me crazy. I was waving my hand frantically when someone entered the room, it was Theo.

— Shit! – I muttered, covering myself. He just raised his eyebrow.

— What are you doing? - he asked without giving it much importance.

— Nothing, nothing. I wasn't expecting you – I mumbled, trying to avoid his gaze.

— I told you yesterday I'd come today, are you running out of brain cells from so much protein? – He joked. I felt a warm feeling in my stomach when I heard him laugh – What are you wearing?

— My wrestling uniform, what else? – I tried to diminish the strangeness of the moment, I had to be more like Mark – it drives girls crazy, don't you think? – I muttered, flexing my arms for him.

Theo let out a friendly laugh, nodding.

— Sure, dude.

We talked for a while, at first he caught me off guard but the more I talked to him, I felt my brother's knowledge and tastes seep in. Suddenly he was talking about his subjects, his other friends, video games that only he knew about, even what sports games were coming up.

— Mark, do you want to go play video games at my house? I bought something new and we can go try it out.

— Sure, bro – I felt natural with every step and every sentence. I changed my clothes so we could go without looking ridiculous, that would be for later – Let me let my annoying brother know.

I ended up walking to my old room, still lying my body on the floor. I went out with Theo, walking down the street and enjoying the sun.

— Sometimes you're too hard on him.

— With who? – I said a bit confused.

— With your younger brother, I remember when you used to get along with him.

I felt some guilt for what he made me remember, there was a time when Mark was protective of me, and I was always hanging out with him and Theo, until.... Wow, I don't know what happened.

— He's such a loser.

— I like him, he's really nice.

I smiled to myself to hear my crush say such a thing. We ended up arriving at his house, apparently no one was home. We went up to Theo's room where we played for at least two hours, the afternoon went by fast; we kept talking about trivial topics but I couldn't help looking at him from time to time.

I felt a connection with him, natural because of my brother's friendship with Theo, but there was something that also seeped out of me, that I liked. The way he laughed, or his hair falling on his forehead, his skin, fuck, fuck...

— Come on, dude. I'm kicking your ass! – I could see how my character ended up being defeated, I was silent, just listening to his laughter, which confused him, he turned to look at me. – Mark... Are you ok?

And I couldn't hold it in any longer.

I approached him to kiss him softly, I was afraid he wouldn't kiss me back, but he immediately started kissing me again.

It was a chaos of kisses, my hands wandering awkwardly through his hair.

— Jesus, Mark...

— Don't you love it?

— I love it, man...

We ended up kissing like crazy. There were a lot of questions in me, So Theo was gay? Did he always have feelings for Mark? Was this the relationship they had? What was going on here?

But the more kisses he gave me, the less I cared. In a matter of mere seconds again we were kissing intensely and passionately. I had everything I wanted, the body I deserved, the boy of my dreams? At last everything was in place.

Theo climbed on top of me, still kissing me, even tenderly.

— Do you want me to take good care of you, big guy?

He whispered in a tone I never thought I'd hear him speak. He caressed my chest and then my abs.

— Theo...

I murmured.

— Shh...

I immediately quieted down. And gosh... He sure knew how to use his mouth, my eyes rolled to white from just feeling how over and over again he acted greedily. I was lost in the sensation until I could feel my new phone vibrating like crazy, I preferred to ignore it, but I kept getting notifications.

I reluctantly picked up the phone, only to see notifications from my old number. Apparently my brother had already woken up, there were endless messages:

"What did you do, midget!? Where are you!?"

And more messages from him, completely hysterical, although there was one in particular that made me trace a wide smile on my face:

"Are you with Theo?! Stay away from my best friend!"

I immediately activated the camera to send him some pictures. Which infuriated him even more.

I was about to burst out laughing when I heard Theo's phone start ringing.

— Mfh... Wait a minute, buddy – he sat back up and picked up his phone to check who was calling – That's weird, your brother is calling me.

— Don't answer it - I tried to sound natural.

But Theo seemed to ignore me, he answered and not only that, he put it on speaker.

— Hello?

There was silence, until Mark finally exploded with my squeaky voice.

— Theo, it's Mark! My idiot brother did something and now I'm in his body! That asshole is using my body, you have to do something!

Theo looked at me strangely, scowling, I couldn't even hold his gaze.

— Didn't you hear, Theo?! That's not me that's with you! You have to do something!

I guess the luck had lasted only a few seconds, now Theo would reject me or even hate me.

— I know, Mark – I looked up quickly, I could see the boy of my dreams with a cold profile, but not for me exactly – And I like it that way.

My old voice sounded hysterical and annoyed over the speaker until Theo cut the call.

— So... You know?

— Yes, I do.

— Was I too obvious?

— A little, but it wasn't really about that.

Without warning he kissed me again.

— But Theo...

— Who do you think sent you the mail?

He let out a laugh to kiss me intensely, I had to restrain myself from kissing him for hours or putting my hands on his body.

— Why?

— Because I've seen you, buddy - he smiled, then I realized that I always use the nickname he used to call me - I know how you look at me, I know how much you liked it. And although I felt something similar, I couldn't reciprocate you, I saw you as my little brother, it felt... wrong. Your brother's body, though, I could certainly mess with it an infinite number of times.

He caressed my smooth abs.

— So you like that I'm Mark?

— I love it. The goofy jock look suits you.

He grabbed my pecs to weigh them, then without warning lunged against my armpits to lick and sniff like crazy.

After a few weeks, I ended up adapting to my brother's life perfectly. I continued playing his sports, improved his grades, got along with his friends... The only change was when “he” came out as openly gay, my parents had to accept it and my younger brother... Well, he has no choice but to watch me bring my cute boyfriend, formerly best friend, into my room every night.

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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 will be my new account, I hope you like the stories that are coming soon. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?

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The great shift: son to dad

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.

𝗦𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗮𝗱: (English version)

My name is David. And I hate my life…

High school is a misery. Abuse from bullies, infuriating subjects and the list could go on. I was fed up. I wasn't happy, and I wanted my life to change.

Besides having my father, he certainly wasn't much help. My father was masculine, successful, womanizing and handsome. I had had so many wet dreams about him even though I didn't want to admit it out loud, but he certainly sucked at trying to connect with me. Every complaint about being bullied was only accompanied by, “You need to learn to stand up for yourself, you're already a man.” And other things like, “If I were you.” It was infuriating.

He was popular in high school, the best at sports, adored by the girls and every boy's friend. I'm just a puny, video game-addicted geek that jocks love to occupy as their punching bag.

And that day had gotten off to a bad start.

— So you won't give me your money? - Aaron, the dumbest jock in the whole high school, was about to sink my head in the toilet.

— I told you I don't have any! Get off me!

I tried to move in vain. I could smell the aroma, causing me nothing but nausea. I closed my eyes tightly, expecting at any moment to crash into the water.

However, I heard a crash. Some kind of energy ran through me from head to toe, leaving me in darkness for a few seconds. Before returning to reality.

I opened my eyes in fright, finding myself in a completely different environment from where I was just seconds before. I was now in a strangely familiar office. Wait, is this my dad's office?

I looked down to find something even more different than the environment, my legs were on a table. But I was no longer wearing my old clothes, now I was wearing a formal suit, polished dress shoes.

I looked exactly how my dad had dressed today. I stood up quickly. At least I had grown about 18 inches taller, everything looked lower. I felt heavy and… strangely powerful. I began to feel my new body. And I was more than delighted: his thick muscles, his hairy pecs, his huge biceps. The smell of his cologne… it was all mine, that body I had fantasized about so many times was finally mine. God… how good the tight pants felt. Everything was showing. I dared to massage the contour above the pants, letting out a deep moan.

What had happened was called “The Great Shift,” a phenomenon around the world that caused body changes here and there.

Obese people ended up in the bodies of bodybuilders, unemployed people in movie stars, adult film stars in Catholic people, young people in adult bodies and the list could go on.

Clearly some more benefited than others. And I can say with absolute certainty that I hit a jackpot.

Just look at these biceps! I could spend hours and hours smelling my new musk, I love it when it meets my cologne… I smell like an alpha male.

Or just look at this big, fat chest. God, my pecs are huge now!

There's nothing left of the skinny geek I used to be. I still love video games and play them whenever I can, although I've moved on to other priorities.

And if you're wondering about my father. I have to tell you that he is now my son, who knew he would end up in my old body? Now he has to deal with adolescence again and having that pathetic body, which by the way… seems to influence him too much.

He doesn't know it, but I've found him sniffing my boxers on the sly or my sweaty clothes. Or I've even seen him watching gay stuff, apparently he now acts on the instincts of my old body. But this body?

Nah, the days of womanizing are in the past. Now I enjoy something much better: absolute control of men. I love to see how they kneel before me, surrendered, waiting for my approval. The way they sigh when I let them get close, when they inhale my scent and gaze adoringly at me. Hearing how my mere presence makes them obedient, how their voices tremble as they call me 'daddy', ready for anything. Because now, I make the rules.

My father's closet changed in its entirety. Gone were those boring suits, now he always tried to make shirts fit me as tight as possible, with leather gloves and tight dress pants. Or even suspenders, see how well they highlight my pecs, perfect for my full chest to show off.

I love my new body, hairy, strong, powerful, with a strong scent, its big muscles… Everything was big.

Arms that were marked with every flex and a pair of huge pectorals… I did get my lottery ticket when I ended up in my father's body.

And you know what the best part is? The fate of my bully Aaron. Poor, dumb, hapless Aaron….

My dad had an assistant named Justin. He was a skinny guy, blond, very cute if I'm being honest, and best of all… he was gay. And that's exactly where Aaron ended up. At first he thought about quitting, but after The Great Shift, the work environment became more than chaotic. So he had no choice but to stay.

At first the relationship remained very professional. Until I guess the same thing happened to him that happened to my father, I could see him staring at my arms or my pecs, how he seemed to always be watching me or hovering to get my attention. The great Aaron had been reduced to a guy begging for his boss's attention.

So one day I took pity on him.

— Aaron.

— Yes?

— I think it's time to talk about the way you see me, it's not appropriate.

— What the hell are you saying? - and there was a vestige of his old personality, but I would take care of burying it.

— Careful with your words, I remind you that I am no longer David. And you are not Aaron. I'm your boss now, and you're my assistant.

— Fuck you, Davi! - and before he could finish the word. I slapped him in the face.

— I told you I'm not David anymore. Now get down on the floor.

He stood still for a few seconds, until his instincts finally gave way, dropping to his knees on the floor.

— That's it. That's the way I like it - I muttered to take a seat in one of the armchairs in my office, with a smug smile - Now… I think my shoes are dirty, would you mind running your tongue over them to clean them?

He froze, his face was red. I didn't know whether from anger or embarrassment.

— I said I want you to clean my shoes.

Without holding back any longer, he approached them to start licking them, at first with disgust, until he seemed to become eager to lick. At that moment I pushed my foot away, which caused him to moan.

— What is your name? - I muttered, sternly.

— M-my name is Aaron…

— No. Your name is Justin.

— B-but that's not my name.

— Say it.

I looked at him with superiority. I could feel his morals, and the vestiges of his past life, finally going down the drain.

— M-my name is Ju-Justin.

— That's right, Justin. And now you must obey your boss. Lame.

And from then on there was no vestige of the straight jock Aaron used to be, now there was only Justin, a gay assistant who used to please his boss in his spare time.

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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?

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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.