hunkpossession0

[hunkpossession0]

Life in Retrospect (Part 3)

Staring into the mirror, with the necklace resting cool and heavy against my chest, I considered my next move. If I was going to convince the amulet—and myself—that this body was mine, I needed to make some changes, starting with the basics.

First things first, Mikey’s wardrobe was atrocious.

I rifled through his drawers and closet, finding an endless array of dry-fit shirts in bright, clashing colors and tank tops emblazoned with gym logos. Sure, being a gym bro was hot—I could see the appeal—but the looks were uninspired. He’d draw even more attention if he put in just a little effort.

“Time for a style upgrade,” I muttered, giving my reflection a grin that felt more confident than any expression I’d worn in years.

Memories surfaced of the days when I’d been known for my sharp sense of fashion—tailored suits, leather jackets, crisp shirts that turned heads on the street. I wasn’t about to step back into the polished looks of my old life; I needed something that fit this younger, edgier version of myself.

I hit the thrift stores like a man on a mission. Racks of vintage leather jackets, oversized sweaters, slim-fit jeans, and distressed tees called out to me. I practically cleaned out half a dozen stores, arms loaded with pieces that oozed effortless cool. My bank account took a serious hit, but I didn’t care. This was an investment—in keeping this life, this body.

“You’re gonna love this,” I whispered to the amulet, feeling it warm slightly against my skin.

Back at home, I tried everything on. A brown leather bomber jacket that fit like a second skin, vintage denim that hugged my legs just right, oversized sweaters that spoke of casual mornings at a café—I couldn’t help but admire the transformation. I looked hot as fuck.

The necklace vibrated against my chest, sending a shiver down my spine. Over the next few days, I noticed the dizzy spells became fewer and farther between, a sign that the amulet approved of the shifts I was making. But I knew this wasn’t enough.

Next, I tried changing up my day routines and friends. I started off by pulling away from the gym bro crowd and the endless banter about protein shakes and reps. Instead, I spent more time at cafes with people who shared my real interests, discussing books and philosophy. I went to art galleries, soaking in the quiet, contemplative energy that contrasted so sharply with the loud, boisterous nights out Mikey used to have.

But still, I felt that nagging doubt—the sense that it wasn’t enough. I was racking my brain, wondering what more I could do. I didn’t know Mikey well enough to pinpoint exactly what would be out of character, what would truly convince the amulet that I had made this body mine.

The answer was out there. I just had to find it.

---

One night, I found myself at a cozy little art event downtown with some of my new friends. The atmosphere was low-lit, filled with laughter and the quiet murmur of conversations over wine and soft jazz. I felt like I belonged here—a far cry from the sweaty gym floors and blaring music of Mikey’s usual haunts.

I’d been chatting up this guy at my table, a sharp, well-dressed guy named Ollie, who had a laugh that made my stomach do a flip every time I heard it.

Then, out of nowhere, it hit me—a realization that made me almost laugh out loud. Mikey wasn’t gay. There was no way he’d be flirting like this with a guy. This was exactly my chance to cement the swap.

leaned in, giving Ollie a smile that I knew, with Mikey’s rugged jawline and smoldering eyes, would have a hell of an effect. Sure enough, Ollie blushed, his gaze flickering down as I held his attention with just enough tension.

Eventually, we ended up heading back to my place. The anticipation buzzed between us, almost tangible, as we made our way up the stairs. I opened the door, pulling him in with a grin, and wasted no time.

The second the door closed, I reached for the hem of my shirt, peeling it off in one smooth motion. Ollie’s eyes went wide, his gaze magnetized by my bare chest, staring at the thick pecs that looked even better in this new, rough lighting. He was practically speechless, caught between awe and desire as he ran a hand up my chest.

“Damn,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, fingers tracing the defined lines of my muscles.

We moved to the bedroom, and the moment our bodies pressed together, the heat between us spiked. I guided Ollie onto the bed, pulling him close as he shifted onto his hands and knees, glancing back at me with excitement and just a hint of nervousness.

I took my time, positioning myself behind him, savoring the anticipation. With a firm hand, I stroked along his back, moving down over his shoulders and arms, then brushing over his toned torso. I could feel him relaxing under my touch, his body trusting me to lead. With a soft, reassuring whisper, I pressed the tip in, and he gasped, gripping the sheets.

“Relax,” I murmured, leaning down to trail a few kisses along his shoulder blades. My other hand moved to his biceps, kneading gently, helping him ease into the moment.

Slowly, I slid in a bit more, feeling him tense and then loosen as my hands worked their way over his muscles, calming him. I kept the pace unhurried, my hand still exploring his back, his shoulders, even reaching around to his chest, keeping him anchored in the moment.

Once he adjusted, I began moving, each thrust steady and deep. The sound of our breaths and the rhythm of my hips filled the room as we found a powerful flow.

I wrapped my hand around Ollie’s cock, stroking him slowly in time with my thrusts. He groaned, his breath coming in shuddering gasps as I picked up the rhythm, making sure he felt every sensation. It wasn’t long before he was practically writhing beneath me, his body responding to my touch, every inch of him pulsing with desire.

“Come for me,” I murmured in his ear, my voice low and coaxing. I wanted him to feel everything, to lose himself completely. And as I stroked him, watching the tension build in his face, his breathing hitched, his muscles tensing under my hands.

With a sharp gasp, Ollie finally came, his whole body trembling as he moaned, tightening around me. That sudden grip drove me over the edge. The intense pleasure hit me hard, and with a deep groan, I gave in, shuddering as I shot my load into his perky, smooth ass.

Laying back and catching my breath, the necklace pulsed against my chest, vibrating harder than it ever had before. I waited, half expecting something dramatic—a flash of light, maybe a jolt through my body that would make this transformation permanent. But, like before, nothing actually happened.

The next morning, as the first light filtered in through the blinds, I got dressed slowly, savoring every step. I slipped on one of my new outfits, a tight tank that clung to my shoulders, showing off my defined biceps, and fitted jeans that emphasized my strong legs. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t help but admire the transformation—the way this body wore confidence like a second skin.

Ollie stirred on the bed, watching me with a sleepy smile as I flexed my arm a little, just to see if he’d notice. He did. His eyes widened slightly, and I could tell he liked the show. I walked over, leaned down, and kissed him slowly, savoring the warm feeling that spread through me at the touch.

“That was… amazing,” I said, holding his gaze. "I’d really love to see you again, like, on an actual date. What do you say?"

As the words left his mouth, the necklace around my neck flared up in a frenzy, vibrating and heating until it felt like it was radiating warmth through every inch of me. I felt cascades of pleasure as if I was having 10 orgasms all at once. In that moment, I knew, this body was mine forever.

It was the missing piece, I realized. Mikey hadn’t been the type to ask for a second date or care about much beyond the night itself. For him, a hasty exit before sunrise would’ve been enough. But by wanting something real, something lasting, I’d pushed just far enough out of character to claim this life as mine for good.

Ollie sat up, grinning, oblivious to my inner transformation, and ran a hand over my shoulder. “I’d like that too. A lot.” He flashed a look at my huge biceps. "So… when should we make this date happen?” he asked, a hint of mischief in his voice.

"How about this weekend?" I replied, pulling him in for another kiss before standing up to grab my shirt.

As I pulled it over my head, the necklace finally cooled, a final confirmation that I was here to stay. I felt lighter, stronger, more alive in this body than ever. I glanced back at Ollie with a smirk, already planning out the rest of the day, and I couldn’t help but think, Damn, it feels good to be Mikey.

[hunkpossession0]

Leather up!

David sat on the concrete wall, waiitng for the buyer to arrive. He put up a post recently to sell his Kawasaki Ninja and get a brand new one. The price was high, but he loved his motorcycle and wanted to get the most of it.

The time of arrival of this secret buyer has already passed, but he was nowhere to be seen. David checked the message with coordinates and was sure that he was at the right place.

David was already sweating in his racing leathers.

He got up and checked the other side just to make sure, that he wasn't crazy.

"All right, you had enough time. I am leaving." he sent back, but the other person didn't open the message.

As soon as David looked away from his phone, he noticed a wet mark on the concrete as if something made it's way towards him. As if a giant snail crawled there. But there was nothing in sight.

David jumped of the ledge and headed to his motorcycle. But his leg was itching. He stopped and wanted to scratch it, but it was way too low. He took off his boot and was immediately shocked. A tiny green goo tail disappeared under the leather, crawling up his leg. "What the..."

David quickly unzipped himself and tried to take the leather suit off, but the goo already made his wait into his ass. He tried pushing at it to make it go away, but it didn't help.

He felt the last parts of the goo disappear in him. The goo stretched and massaged his prostate. He collapsed on the grown and screamed. It wass a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"No! Please! Somebody!!! Help!!!"

David felt weaker by the second. There was no stopping this, no one nearby to help him. David took his last weak breath and closed his eyes.

"Finally!!! I thought you would never let go." David's voice said while getting up from the ground. His indefference was now replaced with an awe and admiration for himself. He checked out his new leather suit and flexed, just to see how tight everything was.

His hand grabbed his bulge over the leather. "I just hope you're a grower, David. I hoped for a full package." his hand let go and made its way under the leather. "Oh fuck yeah. I was hoping you'd be really sweaty. Jackpot."

He walked over to the motorcycle and looked back at himself in the mirror. "I am you. I am DAVID. I hope you can see me David. I am about to destroy your life. So sit tight and enjoy the ride."He started the engine and headed out.

James:"It really worked? Are you really this guy right now? Or did my friend just pay you money to prank me?"

David's body:"Would a random guy just come up to you and showed off himself to you? Let you touch his dick?"

James:"Ok, yeah you're right. How did you even get his body? Can I do that too?"

"No. I'll keep that to myself. Now. How about you get on your knees. You seem parched. Let me fill your mouth."

David screamed, but the fucker that stole his body probably didn't hear him. All David could do was just watch as his previously straight body now participated in gay sex. His dick being burried in this guy's mouth. The fucker even kept him in the leather still.

Before the guy could cum all over the other guy's face, he took David's dick and came over the leather. After a moment of hyperventilating from the exhaustion, the other guy asked. "You're not gonna go clean that? It might make a stain."

David's body:"No,I'll keep it there."

Little did the know that the cum, slowly drying out on the surface, contained the remnants of David's soul.

[hunkpossession0]

Nasser took a deep breath, lifting one arm overhead while bringing the other across his chest in a classic side-flex pose, feeling the satisfying burn in his biceps and shoulders. His torso twisted slightly, making the hard lines of his abs pop, each muscle defined and tense. He held the pose, eyes following the sharp contours of his chest, the peaks of his biceps, and the tightness in his core.

“Not bad,” he muttered under his breath, a small, proud grin sneaking onto his face as he admired the result of all his work, holding the flex just a bit longer.

Lost in the moment, he adjusted his stance, shifting his weight and admiring each line and curve as he moved. But just as he leaned in closer to the mirror, the locker room door swung open. Nasser froze, catching the stare of the other man, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, uh… my bad!” the guy chuckled, trying not to laugh.

Face instantly heating up, Nasser dropped his arms and grabbed his gym shirt, clearing his throat. “All good, man,” he mumbled, quickly looking away and wiping the sweat from his forehead, pretending he hadn’t just been caught admiring his physique. He’d always been humble about his looks and felt awkward flaunting himself in front of others. For Nasser, his hard work was personal—he didn’t like to boast.

The man who walked in on him however did, especially when he was up to no good...

-----

I didn't come to the gym for a workout, but rather a perfect moment like this. I leaned against the door frame, grinning as I watched him scramble to pick up his shirt. Poor guy looked like a deer in headlights. Nasser wasn’t just any guy at the gym—he had this natural humility about him that only made him more of a target for what I could do.

And he didn't even know it yet.

As Nasser packed up, he kept his head down, shoving his water bottle and gloves into his gym bag. As he continued, I placed down my stuff on the bench next to his, pretending to mind my own business. I kept my movements casual, letting my presence settle in close. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him glance over, quick and subtle, like he was trying to figure out why I’d suddenly planted myself right next to him when the rest of the locker room was free.

I have to act quick. Just as he started putting on his shirt over his head, I shifted a little closer, close enough to feel the faint warmth radiating off him and a waft of a mixture of his deodorant and his hard earned musk. Fuck, he smells nice... I can't wait to take it all in... more intimately. In a smooth, practiced move, I reached out, connecting touching his exposed back before he could put on his shirt.

"W-what the-" Nasser let out a small yelp. Before he could turn around, my arms and torso was already making their way in as I fully immersed myself into the back of his frame. Nasser moaned, just as my head went in with the rest of my body, and a rush of heat filled me as I fully took over. I straightened up, letting his body adjust to my control. I started with flexing his fingers, rolling his shoulders back to feel the satisfying weight of his solid frame.

“Oh hell yeah... this will do,” I muttered, hearing his voice come out of his mouth. My mouth. Looking at my new reflection, I saw Nasser gazing back with an arrogant smug expression as I tossed his shirt aside without a second thought. Time to pick things back off where Nasser left them.

Lifting his—my—arms overhead, I struck a pose in the mirror, letting the light catch every line and curve of his body.

“Mmm damnnnn, yeah I'm fucking hot,” I boasted with his projected voice, flexing his bicep and feeling his muscles stretch and burn , drinking in every angle of his sweaty body as I leaned forward, bringing his face closer to the mirror.

"Looking pretty damn good, aren’t we?” I chuckled, using his voice in a way he never would—cocky, dripping with confidence. Nasser would have been modest, but I was more than ready to show off everything he’d built.

Arm still raised, I look at his sweaty pits in the mirror and grinned. I lowered one arm, bringing it down, my hand tracing the defined lines of his obliques before reaching his armpit. I let my fingers linger there, enjoying the warmth, the masculine scent that felt almost primal.

“OooOooh… fuck,” I whispered, closing my eyes briefly, breathing in the heady scent that clung to his skin. The scent of him—sweat, warmth, the unmistakable musk of a hard workout—filled my senses, grounding me in the reality of this body, this strength.

With a final whiff, I felt Nasser's body finally give in and start to stir for itself as his gym shorts began to strain against the growing swell in his groin. My eyes widened, a spark of excitement flaring up as I felt his body getting heated for himself.

It was time to test how much further this could go.

I dropped the flex, bringing his sweaty hands to his growing bulge. My heart raced and a warm tingle shot through me as his shaft swelled, thickening and pushing up against the fabric of his shorts. The pressure, the sensation, was overwhelming.

"Shit," I grunted, his breath coming out ragged and harsh.

I slipped his hands into his waistband, pulling his shorts and underwear down over the swell of his muscular ass, revealing his growing erection, which sprang up, the tip exposed, already leaking beads of pre-cum.

"Fucking hell," I gasped, wrapping his hand around his shaft and feeling his length twitch. With a firm grip, I began to slowly stroke his cock, savoring the sensation, the warmth, the pulsing, hard heat in his palm. I took his hand and wiped the sweat off his glistening chest and abs, and smeared it over his throbbing cock. The smell, the heat, the slick friction... it was too much.

Gazing into the mirror at Nasser's reflection, I watched as I made him make various expressions while I explored his body further. His eyebrows furrowed together in pleasure, his mouth hung open, and his eyes were wild with need. It was fucking gorgeous to see him in such a state.

"Damn fuck yes," increasing the speed of my strokes on his cock.

Look at you, so fucking turned on." Bringing his other hand to his nipple, I directed him to tease it with his rough calloused fingers. The combination of sensations had him groaning and moaning, completely under my control.

"Oh shit that feels amazing..." I moaned. Hearing Nasser's moans leave my mouth was intoxicating.

I could hear footsteps approaching in the distance, but unlike Nasser, I didn't care. He was mine in this moment, and I relished in it.

"Nasser, you're so fucking hot," I gasped, the words escaping me in short breaths. "You're so fucking hot. You're so fucking hot." His voice lustfully repeated.

"D-didn't mean to stop showing off earlier" I made him say, keeping his gaze locked on the mirror as I continued making him rub one out.

"I'll make up for it now though," I teased with a mischievous grin on my lips.

With each passing second, the primal scent of sex grew stronger as he pumped himself faster and faster. Sweat dripped from his pits and mixed with precum on his shaft – it was a heady mix that drove his body wild.

"Yes! Yes! YES!" I yelled, his voice booming for anyone to hear.

Just as I got his body ready to cum, the door burst open.

"O-OHH fuUUUCK!" I yelped in surprise, Nasser's body seizing, his back arching and his hips bucking as his cock exploded in a thick rope of hot sticky cum, spattering his sweat-slick torso and abs with his seed.

The stranger looked at me in disbelief and I gasped catching my breath and grinned back in satisfaction, knowing my job was done .

"Sorry about that man," I chuckled while rubbing Nasser's seed all over his body and lapping some of the saltiness up, "how could I resist when I look like this"

[hunkpossession0]

[hunkpossession0]

[hunkpossession0]

Alone At The Frat House

Nelson woke up with a pounding headache, the kind that only an intense night of partying could deliver. He squinted as the sunlight invaded the room, hurting his sensitive eyes. He was trying to piece together the events of the previous night.

Nelson was never the party type; in fact, he was quite the opposite—a shy nerd who always avoided social interactions whenever possible and hated going to parties. Now, he parties almost every day with the most popular and hottest fratboys at Alpha Sigma Kappa, something Nelson never dreamed was possible. The previous night was just another one of their private parties. A party that only the frat members and Nelson could enjoy.

But now the house was eerily quiet; the only sound were of the birds outside and the sound of the window curtains. This was odd because since Nelson helped that alien crew take over the bodies of the entire frat house, he would always wake up with loud moaning in the next rooms.

Nelson glanced at the clock: 10 AM. The house should've been buzzing with life, with hungover frat boys messing around with each other, but it was like everyone was still sleeping. Maybe they just had too much to drink last night? Nelson thought.

Lying on Nelson's side was the frat president, Preston— or what was left of him.

His body was limp, his handsome features slack as he stared unblinking. He was still wearing the same underwear from the day prior.

Preston was a rich, arrogant jock with a body built to turn heads and a smile that could melt anyone. As frat president, he had a commanding and authoritative personality, the type that made everyone fall in line.

Preston was the kind of guy everyone wanted to know—or be. Charismatic and effortlessly cool, he was a magnet at every party, surrounded by friends and admirers who hung on his every word. He had a natural way of making people feel seen but was selective, reserving his attention for those he deemed worthy. His girlfriend, Jenna, was as striking as he was, perfectly matching his energy and status. Together, they were campus royalty—the couple everyone talked about, envied, and secretly wanted to be.

Last night at the party, Preston had been one of the most popular vessels; his alien occupant was none other than the captain of the crew, meaning he was the alien in charge of their secret operation on Earth. Taking over the frat president suited him well.

Later that night, all the frat boys were in nothing but their underwear, dancing and getting intimate with one another. Some were getting fucked, others were getting blowjobs, or making out.

Nelson was just sitting and enjoying the show when Preston walked over with a grin and pulled him into his room upstairs. Once in Preston's room, he got on the bed and offered his ass for Nelson to fuck. Nelson spent the night pounding the frat president until they passed out, hugging each other.

But now, Preston lay empty and frozen like a mannequin.

Nelson sat up on the bed. “Captain?” he whispered, gently nudging Preston's shoulder. No response. Nelson then noticed something slick and sticky inside Preston's left ear. He put his finger inside and pulled out a slimy string of alien residue that connected his finger to Preston's ear. Nelson knew what that meant: the alien had crawled out of Preston and left his body empty. The takeover process required the alien to hollow out the vessel's brain, so without an alien inside, the frat boys were nothing but empty muscles.

Nelson looked under the bed for the captain's small spaceship—each frat member had one hidden beneath their beds—but he found nothing under Preston's. That would explain why the window was left open, he thought.

Nelson sighed, his thoughts soon drifting toward his own vulnerable and exposed body. This was the first time he had Preston all to himself, empty. He buried his face in Preston's hairy armpit and took a deep sniff, the faint scent of dried cum and sweat from the night before still lingering. Nelson began to harden as he remembered how Preston had been before being converted into a vessel. He was such an arrogant prick, believing he was god’s gift to women and that everyone else was beneath him. Now, he was just a hot piece of meat, waiting for his brain to be filled again with an extraterrestrial being.

Unable to resist any longer, Nelson pulled his mouth from the frat president's armpit and slid down Preston's underwear. He lifted the jock's muscular legs over his shoulders and pushed inside Preston's tight ass.

Nelson moaned as he began to thrust, unable to shake the thoughts of how much his life had changed in the past months.

Three months ago, Nelson was just another campus nobody—an awkward, lanky nerd who barely registered on anyone's radar. Known for his obsession with aliens and the cosmos, he was often the butt of jokes, the “weird guy” who spent more time hunched over his computer or scanning the night skies than engaging with anyone. His classmates avoided him, especially the frat guys—those sculpted, confident jocks who seemed to own the campus. Nelson could only dream of what it would be like to have their attention, let alone any power over them. It felt impossible, almost laughable.

One night, Nelson was working late on his special school project—a machine designed to receive extraterrestrial signals, scanning the cosmos for signs of intelligent life. It had been routine, uneventful work until that night when his equipment picked up something extraordinary—a signal from deep space. At first, Nelson couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but the message quickly became clear: the aliens were communicating that they wanted to come to Earth but needed human vessels to blend in. They preferred to be in close quarters with one another, a place where their vessels could share the same house. Nelson’s mind began to race, and an idea sparked. He knew the perfect place for them: the frat house on his campus, packed with the hottest, most muscular guys around. Without hesitation, he sent the location of the frat house, fully aware of what awaited those unsuspecting jocks...

Nelson moaned loudly as he finished inside Preston, after a few minutes catching his breath, he pulled out of him, leaving the frat president with his legs frozen in the air and cum leaking from his ass. He stood up from the bed and wandered over to the window, gazing out at the scene below. The pool area was a mess—empty red cups and scattered clothes littered the ground like remnants of a wild night. He watched a lone red cup tumble across the pavement, caught by the breeze, until it finally tipped over and splashed into the pool.

"Where is everyone?" He asked himself.

He stepped out of Preston's room; he didn't even bother to put underwear on; he was used to walking naked in the frathouse, no one in the frat could even care anymore. The hallway was lined with doors, each leading to a room where a fratboy slept.

Nelson went to the next room and opened the door. Inside, he found Marcos, the football team's heartthrob, sleeping on his stomach, his athletic back exposed while wearing only a grey underwear, giving Nelson a perfect view of his muscular ass, built after years running on the field.

Nelson had fucked that ass last night too, actually, everyone at the frat did.

Nelson had come up with a spicy version of the game 'spin the bottle'. When he told the aliens about the game, they all loved it.

So they covered Marcos' body in a slick layer of oil. Then they guided him to lie on his back in the middle of the floor, his ass raised, inviting and exposed to everyone. The frat boys settled into a circle around him, their cocks throbbing in excitement.

Nelson took the lead, giving Marcos a spin, the oil allowing him to glide smoothly. As Marcos twirled, all the jocks looked in anticipation, when he finally stopped, his ass pointed directly at one eager frat boy, while his head aimed at another. The group of jocks all cheered and the designated pair exchanged mischievous grins, ready to take a piece of Marcos.

While one stuffed his ass, another stuffed his mouth, and so the game went on for many hours, with Marcos being spit roasted by all the fratboys.

Nelson stepped closer to the bed and gave Marcos' firm ass a gentle slap, watching the jock's ass bounce. "Wakey wakey sleepy head," Nelson called out.

No response.

Nelson sighed and then pulled down Marcos' grey underwear, exposing the jock's muscular ass; Nelson spread Marcos' cheeks and inserted a finger inside, feeling how loose he was from last night's party, he chuckled. "You slut," Nelson murmured, his cock growing harder. He couldn't resist the urge to give that ass more slaps, still, there was no response from Marcos.

Leaning closer to Marcos' head, Nelson noticed the same alien residue that he had seen in Preston's ear and there was also no spaceship under the bed. The alien inside Marcos had left too. Nelson grunted, frustrated, he gave Marcos' ass one last slap, this time more in frustration than for fun.

The next was Jayden's room. The muscular asian jock was sitting motionless on the floor.

Jayden was on the soccer team, which gave him an athletic and muscular body.

Nelson casually walked over to Jayden, grabbed both his ankles and lifted them to his face, making Jayden fall to the floor. Nelson then buried his face in Jayden's soles, inhaling deeply on the jock's feet. He felt his cock twitch as he remembered the time when he could only watch Jayden from afar at the soccer field; now, he could inspect every inch of his body and smell him up close as much as he wanted.

As Nelson licked Jayden's soles, he was not surprised to also noticed the same slimy alien residue in his ear, confirming that Jayden's alien had left him too.

Nelson gave Jayden's feet a quick passionate worship and then went to inspect the next rooms, some of the rooms were empty, meaning some of the fratboys were still downstairs.

In one of the rooms he found the Maddox Twins—Alex and Aiden. They were both popular wrestlers around campus and one of Nelson's favorites, he couldn't help but raise Aiden's arm, making him flex.

Nelson lost count of how many times he asked the Maddox's aliens to spit-roast him on that same bed. He also loved asking the twins to fuck each other for his amusement. The two aliens in control of them were more than glad to give Nelson the most incestuous and hot show possible.

Before the frat takeover, Nelson used to watch them from a distance, secretly wondering about the finer details, like if they were truly identical in every way. His mind often wandered, lingering on the thought of whether they shared the same cock size—a question that had seemed as unattainable as the twins themselves. But now, things have changed. With the twins under the aliens' control, Nelson finally knew the answer to that forbidden curiosity; Both of them had identical 7'9 Inches cocks.

After seeing the two brothers were as empty as the others, he walked out of their room and went downstairs to the living room, where he was greeted by the sight of the remaining of the frat house members scattered on the couches and the floor, all of them with the same telltale sign of an abandoned vessel - the alien residue leaking out of their ears.

The frat house was a total wreck—empty beer cans scattered everywhere, and the faint, unmistakable smell of sweat and cum filled the place. It was all the proof Nelson needed of last night’s chaos. He’d had the time of his life, feeling like a king as he took his pick of the hottest guys on campus, using them like they were his own personal playthings.

It was at that moment he realized he had the entire frat house to himself, filled with hot, ripped, empty vessels waiting to be enjoyed.

It wasn't the first time the aliens had left their vessels to go on intergalactic missions. But most of the time, only one or five would go, however, it had never occurred that all of them went on a mission together like this time. Whatever their mission was, it must have been very important for them to leave like that, Nelson thought.

He carefully stepped over the limp bodies and walked towards Miguel, who was lying on the couch, frozen while still holding his phone. Miguel was a homophobic douchbag before being converted into a vessel and he was notorious on campus for cheating on all his girlfriends.

Miguel's socks had a strong musky smell that hit Nelson's nostrils as soon as he walked closer. But this was not a bad thing for Nelson, he liked when the vessels were smelly and unwashed. The aliens didn't care that much about their vessel's hygiene; at one point, they were smelling so strong that Nelson had to convince them to shower their vessels at least once a week, to which they agreed, but only if Nelson did the washing.

Nelson hopped on the couch and grabbed Miguel's legs by both his ankles; he then pressed the socked feet together and buried his face between them, taking a deep and long sniff. After having his fun with Miguel's socked feet, Nelson sat on Miguel's lap, with his ass pressed against his bulge.

He grabbed the phone from Miguel's frozen hands, but was annoyed to find the phone screen was locked and required facial recognition. That, of course, was not a problem for Nelson, as all he had to do was place the phone in front of Miguel's blank face, unlocking the screen.

After doing so, Nelson saw an open message thread, it looked like the alien was texting one of Miguel's side chicks when the alien left his brain. They were having quite a spicy conversation, he even sent her some dick pics. Nelson saw that his last message was sent at 2 AM, giving Nelson the exact time of when the aliens left for their mission, which was four hours after Nelson fell asleep with Preston.

Nelson sighed and caressed Miguel's hard pecs, even pinched his nipples a little. He chuckled as he watched Miguel's blank face, he put his thumb on Miguel's shin and opened his mouth, leaving it agape, he then pulled his tongue out and moved his eyeballs to stare in different directions. Nelson couldn't help but laugh at how dumb Miguel was looking.

Just for fun, he took a photo of Miguel's face and sent it to his date. "I'm a dumb brainless puppet" he wrote.

"I think It's time to give life to you guys, don't you agree?" Nelson asked, gently patting Miguel's face and hopping out of the couch.

In the first month that Nelson started living at the frat with the aliens, the Captain taught him about the missions the aliens would have to go through and the procedure Nelson would have to follow when that happened.

Nelson went to the kitchen and took a heavy suitcase out of the fridge, he put the suitcase on the balcony and opened it. Inside, there were 24 tiny vials filled with a transparent slime.

Nelson took one vial and walked back to the living room. He sighed as he looked at all the frat boys spread all over the floor, he wasn't willing to do the procedure on all of them one by one, it would take forever. So he had an idea, he went to Miguel, opened the vial near his ear and watched as the transparent slime slid inside Miguel's ear, doing what it was programmed to do: To fill the missing part of their brains.

Miguel's body suddenly went rigid and started to convulse on the couch. After a few seconds, Miguel slowly stood up with a frown. He noticed Nelson standing near him, and then he looked at his frat brothers lying on the floor behind him.

"Damn, what a party it was last night huh?" Miguel said in a good mood as he stretched his strong arms.

The slimes inside the vials are synthetic organisms made by the aliens for the sole purpose of occupying their human vessels when they aren't inside them. The slime will have access to all the vessel's memories and will act like they were before being turned into vessels.

In other words, the slimes are a tool used to put empty vessels on autopilot mode. And now it was up to Nelson to make sure they were activated.

Nelson grabbed the suitcase in the kitchen and walked back to the living room. Miguel looked at him and chuckled.

"Where are you going with this suitcase dude? Are you moving back to the closet?" Miguel joked.

"Gosh, you're a jerk even on autopilot. I want you to implant the slime on all the vessels for me," Nelson commanded, but before handing the suitcase, he took one vial. He smiled at Miguel and patted his chest. "You can let Preston for me."

"Yes Captain," Miguel said, walking to his empty frat brothers on the floor, ready to fill their empty heads with slime, just like him.

Stepping back inside Preston's room, Nelson gazed over Preston's hot body, still lying on the bed just as he had left him after their morning fuck.

Nelson then opened the vial and poured the slime into Preston's ear. The frat president Immediately started convulsing, just like Miguel did, until suddenly Preston gained life.

His once empty unblinking eyes were now finally blinking again, though, if you looked closer you would still notice the emptiness in them.

Preston looked at Nelson for a few seconds, as if trying to make sense of what the nerdy gay boy on campus was doing in his room. He then suddenly groaned and his face contorted in a painful expression. "Fuck... my ass is hurting!"

"Sorry about that," Nelson said, but of course he didn't mean that.

Preston's face was shocked when he realized what Nelson's meant.

"You fucked me while I was empty?" He asked, more confused than mad.

"Of course I did, how could I resist such a sexy jock like you? You aren't mad at me, are you?"

It was the first time Nelson had Preston on autopilot, so he had no idea of what reaction Preston would have. He knew the slimes were programmed not to hurt him in any way, but still, he was a little apprehensive.

The real Preston would have been furious, he would have beaten Nelson down to a pulp, but the real Preston was gone at the moment the alien crawled inside his brain and hollowed it.

However, the synthetic slime was still able to mimic Preston's prior straight dominating personality. So Preston—in a sudden move—pinned Nelson against the wall, gently enough not to hurt him.

"How dare you fuck me, you little fag? I'm the frat president and no one fucks me! Turn around! I will show you how to give a guy a proper sore ass!" Preston grunted his voice was authoritative.

Nelson smirked and obeyed, turning his ass towards Preston's 8'5 Inches throbbing shaft. He felt Preston's tip pressing against his entrance, and he moaned against the wall when Preston pushed in.

"That's it, moan for me you bitch! Not so tough now that I have my brain filled again, are you?" Preston moaned against Nelson's ear, shoving his shaft all the way inside with a powerful thrust, making Nelson see stars, and not the ones he likes to see.

Preston then carefully lifted Nelson in his arms while still impaling him and walked them to the bed, where he lay Nelson on all fours and resumed his powerful thrusting.

Preston grabbed Nelson's head on both sides and planted a passionate tongue kiss on him. His strong tongue invaded Nelson's mouth as his rips worked non-stop, his massive cock being pushed all the way in and then half the way out. He gave a long deep moan against Nelson's mouth and came inside him, Nelson came together as he had his face buried in the mattress.

Once Preston finished, he pulled off him and lay on his side, with Nelson resting his head on his muscular chest.

Nelson was still recovering from the intense fucking he just received when he started hearing the sounds of conversation and laughter growing from downstairs, a good sign that the vessels were being awakened by Miguel.

The house now contained the sounds of a living frat house, the sounds that only a house full of hot, young and straight men could make when put to live together.

Nelson was hugging Preston's muscular body as he gently caressed Preston's chest, he looked into his empty blue eyes and smiled. "We should get downstairs for breakfast," he suggested.

"Of course Captain, let's go. I'm starving!"

________________________________________

It's been two months since the aliens left for the mission, and there was still no sign of the aliens coming back.

The synthetic slimes were doing an amazing job at puppeteering the jocks; no one suspected a thing. They all still dated their girlfriends, visited their family members, and attended classes normally.

But Nelson was starting to worry that the aliens had left him alone with the empty vessels. Not that it was a bad fate for Nelson—he enjoyed having full control of the frat guys. But he missed the aliens. He’d gotten close to them during their few months together, and without them, something felt lonely; none of the frat boys were sentient beings anymore.

They might sound and act real, but Nelson knew that talking with them was as effective as talking with a fridge.

It was a random Friday night at Alpha Sigma Kappa, and everything was pretty much going as usual. Nelson lounged on the couch in the living room, naked as always, legs spread wide, his throbbing cock proudly on full display. He had one arm around Preston, who sat beside him, equally naked and hard.

Around the two of them, frat members filled the living room, tangled together in different kinds of action, sounds of moaning and skin slapping filling the house. Some jocks were making out, others worshipping each other’s muscles, or fucking passionately.

Nelson's gaze drifted to Jayden—the hot Asian soccer player—he was pounding Marcos—the star of the football team—on the next couch. Marcos might have been bigger than Jayden, but Nelson always preferred seeing Marcos bottoming because of his big muscular ass.

Marcos was moaning like a depraved slut, his moans were the loudest of all the frat members, and that was starting to bother Nelson, so he decided to do something about it.

"Jayden, Marcos is being too loud, could you please take care of him?" Nelson asked.

"Yes, Captain!" Jayden moaned breathlessly, his voice filled with pleasure. Without slowing down, he gave Marcos a sharp smack, each thrust making Marcos moan louder. "Quiet, you loud big slut, you're making our Captain very upset." With a wicked grin, Jayden snatched up his discarded underwear from the floor, the fabric well-worn and musky from weeks of wear, and pushed it firmly into Marcos' mouth, muffling his cries.

Nelson chuckled as he watched Marcos' face, he looked like he was about to explode for holding his moans.

Opposite Nelson, Miguel lay sprawled out on one of the couches, his muscular body stretched out like a prize on display. Once the campus’s biggest homophobic jerk, Miguel had been notorious for cheating on his girlfriends and running his mouth about guys like Nelson. Now, he was lying frozen with his hands behind his head as he was being worshiped by five of his own straight friends. A couple of the guys were focused on his torso, eagerly running their hands over his chest and abs, worshiping the pecs that Miguel had spent so long building up. One guy was kissing along Miguel’s thick pecs and nipples, while another licked his hairy armpits. One muscular hunk with a buzzcut was riding his big 9'3 Inches cock, while the other two were worshiping Miguel's big manly feet like it was made of candy.

Miguel lay there completely relaxed, hands behind his head as he enjoyed his body being worshiped by his equally homophobic friends.

The sight was nothing more than breathtaking, Nelson couldn't help but feel proud of his work, he felt like an artist, and the jocks were the tools.

Nelson then looked down at the Maddox twins on the floor in front of him. They were eagerly wrestling each other naked, each showing off their skills, they were both dripping sweat after almost an hour of wrestling each other non-stop at Nelson's command. Nelson finally snapped his fingers, making the brothers stop mid-act: Alex was pinning Aiden down, with his cock pressed against his ass.

“Alright boys, that’s enough. Come over here and worship our cocks.”

“Yes, Captain!” they replied in unison, each taking a spot between Nelson and Preston’s legs. Aiden took Nelson’s cock into his mouth, and Alex went for Preston's, both twins working on the shafts with the same dumb, obedient smiles.

Nelson leaned back relaxed, glancing over at Preston, who had that cute, desperate expression he loved seeing whenever Preston got close to cumming. But Nelson was the only one who could decide when anyone here could cum. With a grin, he guided Preston’s face towards his, pulling him in for a deep, sloppy kiss.

Breaking it, he commanded Alex to stop sucking Preston and share his cock with his brother. Alex didn’t hesitate. Nelson moaned as the twins eagerly worshiped his shaft together, their tongues working in unison like two robots in synch, their tongues would often touch each other. Leaning over Preston, Nelson wrapped his mouth around Preston's tip, slowly teasing the slit with his tongue. Preston moaned louder, his muscles tensing, fingers digging into the couch as he teetered on the edge, desperate to finish.

"UUURRRGGHH fuuuuckkkk... please Captain, let me cum! I'm begging you!" Preston cried.

Just as Nelson was about to command everyone to release, something strange happened—the living room suddenly went completely quiet. Looking up, he saw Preston was frozen, his mouth open mid-moan. The twins were also frozen, each with a tongue on his shaft. Behind them, all the frat members were paused, stuck in the middle of their actions, as if time itself had just stopped.

Nelson was starting to freak out when suddenly everyone stood up at once, moving in perfect sync towards the back door, their faces blank, eyes unfocused. Nelson even tried calling out to Preston, but he didn’t respond. No one did. They all marched outside to the pool area, Nelson followed behind confused.

Out by the pool, each guy took a place along the edge, their bare bodies only lit by the moonlit night. The night was freezing, and Nelson shivered with cold, wondering what they were doing. They definitely weren't going to take a swim in this cold water, Nelson thought.

Then, they all looked up.

Nelson did too, and his eyes grew bright as there in the sky were twenty-four tiny blue lights, getting closer and brighter by the second.

The tiny lights turned out to be spaceships of the size of miniatures, each jock raised their hands together towards the sky, allowing the spaceships to land on their hands.

Nelson broke into a grin, feeling relieved—his little friends were finally back.

[hunkpossession0]

Frat House Raid

“Not so tough anymore, huh?”

Nelson sneered down at the briefs on the floor as he felt himself up. He breathed out a small chuckle and bent over, tossing them into the hamper of clothes.

———

Nelson and his buddies had been bullied relentlessly by the jocks at their university. Nelson had grown sick and tired of it and decided to take matters into his own hands. He had used his gifts to make himself brilliant and clever so that he could find a good enough job that would earn him plenty of money, but he never really used it on himself in the ways that mattered. Call it humility or self-control, but he was fine being the twiggy, four-eyes nerd in the crowd, so long as he was more knowledgeable than the person next to him. But having condoms filled with piss thrown at him and his buddies from a passing car full of frat jocks was several bridges too far. Now was the time for payback.

———

He snuck his way into the fraternity house through the basement window. Some tall, broad, hulking brute of a frat bro was standing at the basement laundry machine in just his briefs, loading his clothes into the machine. He was a massive specimen and would definitely beat Nelson to a pulp if this didn’t work, but with great risk comes great reward. Nelson silently approached him from behind, took a quiet, deep breath, and gave the giant man a massive wedgie.

“HRRRNG, WHAT THE FUU-u-u-u-u-u-u-u” the jock screamed, but immediately started convulsing uncontrollably. Nelson yanked harder, lifting the man up onto the tips of his toes, leaning in against his ripped back, feeling the jock vibrate and shake before him. The hulking giant’s cute head with his thick fauxhawk suddenly suck down into his body. He stood there shaking uncontrollably without a head, when his arms quickly sucked into his shoulders. Within seconds, the rest of jocks body sank and collapsed in on itself and shrank into his briefs, as though his entire body was sucked into the fabric that made up his underwear. Nelson held the sagging briefs up before him, admiring how easily he was able to synthesize the Herculean jock’s essence into his briefs. He disrobed completely and stuck his foot into each of the holes—hoped to god this would work—and pulled the underwear up. In a matter of seconds, Nelson’s body exploded with muscles, easily tripling his original size, growing a foot and a half in height and 125 lbs heavier with muscle. It felt like he was being pumped full of mass from an unknown source—it was fucking incredible. His cock and balls ballooned huge and engorged and his ass jiggled with new muscle behind him. He threw his head back and moaned in ecstasy as he came in the briefs, puddles of white pushing through the fabric and dripping in heavy, thick globs down onto the basement floor. He looked down at the soiled briefs as he continued squirting his seed and bucking his hips, more and more of it seeping through the fabric and dripping heavily down to the floor. When it subsided, he wiped the front of the briefs clean with his thick fingers and brought them to his mouth to suck clean. He first stuck his index finger in his mouth and—oh, holy fuck, this boy kept a healthy diet, it tasted divine.

He was still Nelson, albeit with sharper, hotter facial features, and his body now took on the exact same qualities and attributes as the massive jock who wore the briefs before him. He looked down at the jock’s hamper of dirty clothes, kicked it over to dump the clothes onto the ground, and placing the empty hamper against his rounded hip and supported the other end with his other cleaner hand. He walked over to the stairs, he had some more clothes to collect.

Another frat jock with a backwards cap opened the door to the basement and started walking down the stairs, “Yo, Josh, you good? I heard a noise and—…” he noticed a man who looked like he was built like Josh and took on the same shape as him, but with different skin, different hairiness, different facial features. He was wearing Josh’s briefs, sure, but it looked like he had just cum all over himself. “Wait, who the fuck are you?”

Nelson finished licking off the rest of his fingers and nonchalantly reached out as placed his huge, saliva-wet hand on top of the jock’s head, resting against the top of his backwards baseball cap. The jock started convulsing and vibrating, his swole muscles jiggling all over his body. His eyes rolling up into the back of his head and in a flash, his body collapsed in on itself, shrank, and sucked up into the baseball cap, as the rest of his clothes tumbled loosely down to the ground, the only evidence that someone once stood there.

Nelson placed the hat into the hamper and began ascending the stairs.

———

He approached a two jocks from behind, sleeping while sports blared on the large living room flatscreen, and fiercely gripped onto each of their shirts over their pecs with two hands. After they awoke in violent convulsions that rocked the couch, they both soon disappeared into the fabric of their shirts, leaving behind two shorts, two briefs, and two pairs of socks where they once sat. Nelson tossed the shirts into the hamper by his feet.

A jock was in the house kitchen, eating a snack to stack on some more gains. Nelson approached him from behind and strongly squeezed his ass cheek over his gym shorts, prompting the bro to groan out in surprise and slight pain, but his groans turned to a steady vibrato as his body erupted in intense convulsions. As Nelson stood behind the convulsing jock, the door leading outside opened and one of the frat bros entered, dressed in a suit and tie.

“Who are you? And the fuck is going on here?” he asked with genuine curiosity but with a touch of hostility in his voice, as the jock vibrating in Nelson’s hands casted a pained, worried eye in his direction, as though asking for help.

“Laundry day,” Nelson replied innocently as the vibrating jock finally collapsed in on himself, shrinking rapidly, and finally getting sucked into the fabric of the gym shorts. Nelson tossed the gym shorts into the hamper under his arm.

“What the fuck!” the well-dressed frat boy exclaimed and tried to run away out the door, but was caught by the tie by Nelson before he could get too far. Nelson dropped the hamper and brought him in closely, overpowering him with his larger physique.

“Where you going pretty boy? Huh? You fill out that suit real well, don’t you?” he began to tighten the tie uncomfortably tight around the bro’s neck as the bro started to feel his body start to vibrate slightly. “I may have to borrow it at some point. I may have to borrow you, huh?”

The bro’s eyes closed tightly and he could feel the shakes begin to turn violently intense and could feel himself losing control of his body. He began shrinking and compressing, feeling his ripped body begin to be sucked into the small ring of fabric around his neck. His essence was finally sucked up into the fabric of the tie, as the rest of his dress clothes tumbled down to the ground.

Nelson dropped the still-tied tie into the hamper. He looked down at the rest of the dress clothes. They did look nice… He bent down and scooped them up into the hamper, too. ‘Waste not, want not,’ he thought, slinging the hamper back under his arm and walking up the stairs for some more jock shopping.

———

Brett was plowing away on some hot piece of ass from the sorority house across the street. He barely knew her name, even though this was the third time she was invited into his bed. He had to pause, swearing he heard something like several of his bros riding on a broken mechanical bull. ‘The hell’s going on out there?’ he thought. He wetly dislodged from his date and angrily put back on his briefs, tucking his wrapped hardon against his thigh, hearing her impatient protests as he marched towards the door to investigate the racket.

He threw open the door and saw several pieces of clothing strewn across the second floor. It looked like everyone had thrown off their clothes for the day and left them where they stood. At the top of the stairs, just about to descend, stood some vaguely familiar muscle-bound hunk, holding a hamperful of clothes and wearing nothing but a pair of performance briefs. Josh? Wait, weren’t those Josh’s briefs? He looked like Josh, but… not exactly. The hunk had a jockstrap and a tank top in his hand, which he put in the hamper, and looked up noticing Brett at his door.

“Brett!” the hunk called out from across the landing in a booming, joyful baritone. He stepped back up onto the second floor hall and adjusted his groin. “Just the stud I want to see.” He started walking towards Brett with confidence.

“Yeah, and just who the fuck are you, bro? We didn’t order laundry service.” Brett only now noticed the stillness and quiet in the house. Where was everyone?

“What, this?” he looked down at the hamper. “Nah, this is all mine.” he arrived at Brett’s door. “Wait, you seriously don’t recognize me, bro?” he looked down at Brett’s big erection in his briefs and peered behind him at the woman in the bed. “Woah, man, ‘stud’ indeed! Nice cock, great size, bro!” He waved at the woman in the bed, “Hey Tammy!” and she slowly waved back in utter confusion.

Brett studied this unfamiliar hunk’s face a bit and it suddenly clicked. That pencil pusher brainiac! The leader of that pack of know-it-all nerds! Earlier that week, he had chucked a condom full of piss at him and his buds from his BMW. Sent he and his bros into hysterics. Now he’s telling him he has a ‘nice cock?’ It’s absolutely true, but it’s not something Nelson would ever say. But this couldn’t have been him, the beast of a man standing before him would’ve instantly been pledged to the frat, no questions asked. Shit, he looked like Josh, and Josh was a fucking pussy king and an animal…

“Nelson?” he asked in genuine disbelief, and they both heard Tammy echo ‘Nelson?!’ from the bed.

“Bingo!” Nelson responded with a smirk.

He shot a beefy arm forward and fiercely cupped Brett’s hard junk over his briefs. Brett groaned in pain as Nelson squeezed his balls and still-hard cock in his strong, manly hands. “Ooohh, very nice cock, bro! Feels powerful! Feels potent! Wallis is gonna fucking love this!”

Wallis?! Nelson’s fruity nerdy friend?! Ain’t no way Nelson is getting out of this alive to tell his nerdy friends. Brett looked at the beefcake Nelson with fury and prepared to sock him between his glasses, but quickly realized his limbs were frozen where they are. Not that it would’ve mattered anyways, Nelson now way-outsized him. Nelson responded to his angry look with a devilish grin. Brett continued groaning in pain but his groans turned shaky as he started violently convulsing, as though his body was racked with a seizure. He’d never had a seizure before… He looked at Nelson with abject confusion and panic and Nelson couldn’t help but giggle. With one last whimper of panic, Brett’s body began shrinking into itself, his head collapsing down into his torso and his arms sinking into his body as he shrunk down into his waist, his legs shooting up into his briefs. Finally, the remainder of his body was sucked into the fabric of his briefs and Nelson had nothing to hold onto any longer. The light blue briefs fell limply to the floor, only a slightly used condom remained inside.

“Not so tough anymore, huh?” Nelson spoke down to the briefs as he bent over to scoop them into his hamper.

He looked up at Tammy, whose mouth was hanging open in disbelief. Nelson, that flimsy nerd who appeared so often in her economics classes, had shot up in height and stacked on like 2 men’s worth of muscle. Nelson studied her for a second. He had… altered, let’s say, her usual fuck buddy, so he may as well help her out. He fished the condom out of the briefs.

“Sorry about that, Tammy. You know, guy stuff,” he explained with a giggle as he smelled his fingers, admiring the musk Brett’s crotch left behind. She numbly shook her head, her mouth still hanging open. “Hey, to make it up to you, I wouldn’t mind tagging in where he left off. Would you like that?” he asked with a toothy grin, bouncing his pecs and flexing his arms for her to make his offer more enticing.

A faint smile appeared across her open mouth and she nodded her head more enthusiastically. Nelson may be a brainiac and a know-it-all, but now he looked like one who could really fuck her right.

“Super!” he chirped with boyish enthusiasm as he scooped the massive snake of a dick out of his, or rather Josh’s briefs, and started pumping it to its 10 inch long, coke can thick stiffness and walked towards the bed. He slid the condom on, the inside extra-slick with Brett’s pre, increasing his arousal. It barely fit over his cock. “Fair warning, though: I’m pretty big now, and I’m definitely bigger than Brett, from what I could feel back there. I hope he’s loosened you up enough for me!”

She stared at his massive wrapped meat and gulped as he hopped onto the bed and mounted her with his Herculean frame.

———

Wallis opened up his door and was shocked to see his best friend standing before him several feet taller and over a hundred pounds heavier than he last saw him, holding a hamper full of clothes and wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy performance briefs.

“Surprise!” Nelson boomed deeply and enthusiastically, flexing a massive arm and sticking his tongue out.

“Holy shit, Nelson, I can’t believe it worked!”

“Believe it, man!” he presented a the hamper of clothes to Wallis. “The gentlemen of Delta Tau Phi, at your pick.” he said with a bad English accent and grinned proudly at his handiwork.

Wallis excitedly took the hamper and welcomed the new and improved Nelson into his appartment so he wouldn’t get charged with indecent exposure and Nelson closed the door behind him.

Wallis set the hamper down on his couch. “Which one is Brett?”

“On top. Light blue briefs.” Nelson plopped himself down onto the loveseat across from Wallis. “He was mid-fuck when I got him. Had to use his half-used condom to finish off Tammy.” the two laughed at Brett’s misfortune.

“Ooooh, fun… Tammy from econ? That must’ve been nice. “

“She almost couldn’t handle my big dick,” Nelson said looking down at his crotch and squeezing his hardening cock. He looked at Wallis with a grin, “Think you can take it, babe?”

Wallis grinned back and reached down to play with the tip of Nelson’s dick over his briefs, making Nelson shudder, “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

Wallis excitedly pulled the light blue briefs out and lowered his shorts and underwear, exposing himself in front of Nelson, save for his loose-fitting university t-shirt. Neither of them minded though; how Wallis looked now is not at all how Wallis would look in a few moments. Nelson couldn’t believe how much he was looking forward to watching Wallis undergo his changes. He brought his cock out and started stroking in anticipation, waiting for his friend to hulk out in front of him. Wallis blushed at him and pulled the briefs up to cup his modest junk and flat ass, and the changes began immediately.

He moaned as he shot up several inches in height, his legs and arms cracking and elongating to give him proportion. His face became more angular and grew more stubble, his hair straightening and thickening, mimicking Brett’s attributes but retaining Wallis’s features. Wallis moaned louder as literally every muscle group on his body positively exploded with new mass. His arms became toned and strong, his chest protruded and broadened, he felt deep ridges form on his belly as abs rose to the surface. His back broadened and rippled, his ass swelled behind him filling up the briefs, his calves grew thick and powerful, and his thighs burst into massive tree trunks. He could feel the final change coming so he whipped out his cock—hardened like hell from the transformation so far—out of the confines of the briefs started pumping it. As he stroked with panting breaths, Nelson also stroking passionately across from him, his dick grew longer and longer and longer, lengthening slowly but noticeably. Without warning, his dick then fattened thicker, nearly tripling its original thickness in half a second. Finally, he felt his balls swell enormously within the briefs. With rapid moans and tugging on his newly huge nuts, Wallis stepped forward closer to Nelson—who knew what was coming and opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue in anticipation—and fired a copious load onto Nelson’s ripped abs, chest, face, and mouth. Nelson loudly reached climax seconds after, his own spunk showering down on himself in the same places, mixing with Wallis’s.

Wallis stood over Nelson panting as Nelson finished himself off. Wallis threw his head back and closed his eyes, experiencing the feeling of this new body, this new weight, this new height, this new fucking confidence. Nelson looked up at his friend, happy that he was finally able to experience this kind of orgasmic rush, this feeling of getting back at your tormentors by taking their essence and figures for yourself.

Nelson watched jizz slowly leak out of Wallis’s cock head and leaned forward to suck the cock of its excess and clean it. Wallis was shocked back to consciousness and moaned as he stroked Nelson’s hair. Nelson dislodged Wallis from his mouth with a slurping *pop* and swallowed, leaning back into his chair to smile pleasingly at his friend.

Wallis returned the smile and pulled his briefs back over his tool and stumbled back, collapsing heavily on his coffee table, hearing wood crack and splinter beneath him. He chuckled, clearly he would need an adjustment period to get used to his new weight. He looked back and leaned an arm against the hamper of clothes.

“This for the rest of the boys?” Wallis asked, gesturing behind him.

“Yyyyep!” Nelson replied as he grabbed a folded rag from the table next to him and started wiping himself off.

“Huh,” Wallis responded. He looked back at the clothes. There seemed to be more than enough for their friend group. Plenty of life-altering fabrics were mixed together in the hamper. Enough that they could….

“Say,” Wallis started, Nelson looked up from wiping himself off to hear what his buddy was thinking. Wallis brought a huge hand up and stuck a thumb behind him. “What, uh… what happens if you wear more than one at a time?”

Nelson raised his eyebrows, surprised by the question. He sat thinking for a moment. He had never considered the possibility. “… Honestly? Not quite sure…”

Wallis looked down at the pile of clothes again with greed and then back at Nelson, biting his lip. His cock began to swell once more. They exchanged a knowing glance with one other.

“Wanna experiment?” Wallis asked.

“Fuck yes, I do.” Nelson answered, hardly letting Wallis finish his question.

The two shot up and started rummaging through the hamper, bringing out gym shorts, tanks, boxers, anything.

Horny giggling resounded through the apartment, growing deeper and deeper and turning to animalistic grunts, and the sounds of threads popping ensued. The two friends engaged in greedy, lustful groping and kisses, playing their sexy little game of dress-up.

[hunkpossession0]

Would you possibly do one where a guy finds Nightwing’s sweaty suit and boots and is possessed/tfed when he wears it?

"Fuck, they put a fuckin' tracker on my suit!" Nightwing said. Dick Grayson had had quite a bit of training for this moment, and Bruce had told him that the best thing that he could do at the moment was strip completely naked and get back to the Batcave or his home base as soon as possible, depending on where he was fighting crime at the time. Dick found a dark alleyway and stripped completely out of his suit, leaving on the ground. He was able to take the tracker off of the suit, in case he needed to come back for it, and then started to make his way back to the Batcave, since he was helping out Bruce in Gotham tonight.

What Dick didn't know about the tracker was that it wasn't just a tracker. If it was removed from the first surface it was attached to for longer than a minute, then a defense mechanism occurred and the tracker began leaking an invisible and odorless gas into the alleyway. It only had a small area which it would affect, and no civilians would be directly harmed by it. Dick wouldn't come back for his suit for a few hours, and possibly even longer, since the ultra-prepared Bruce had multiple backups of each of his crime-fighting family's suits in the Batcave.

At around the time Dick made his way back to the Batcave, not caught for public indecency along the way, a young man ran into the alleyway where the Nightwing suit lay, the gas particles imbued into the suit as well. Marvin had been running away from some homophobic thugs who had been waiting outside a gay bar to beat up anyone who walked out. Marvin luckily was able to escape, being wiry and twinky, and he thanked whoever was up above that he ran cross country and track all throughout high school and college. He was no match in speed for the thugs, but still needed to escape them somehow. The alleyway was so dark that Marvin could barely see two steps in front of him. He waited there, shaking, until he heard the thugs run on by.

Once he was sure that no one else was around, he turned on his phone to figure out how to get home. He made sure that it was on the lowest brightness level, but even that illuminated the alleyway enough to reveal that there was a suit laying in the middle of the alleyway. Marvin looked at it once, then did a double-take when he realized the color scheme of the suit. "Is that Nightwing's suit!?" he asked himself, excitedly. He walked over to it and turned his phone towards the suit so that it was illuminated thoroughly. There was no mistaking it now; it was definitely Nightwing's suit, and his boots too!

Marvin couldn't believe that Nightwing had just left his suit and his boots in an alleyway like this! As he picked up the suit, he realized that it reeked of sweat. "Fuuuuck!" Marvin moaned, as he breathed in what was presumably Nightwing's scent. A thought crossed his mind that this could have been a cosplayer's suit as well, but Marvin didn't mind. It was just so fuckin' hot thinking that he was huffing Nightwing's sweat and musk! He spent a few minutes having fun with the suit and boots, breathing in Nightwing's sweaty funk in both the suit and the boots, and rubbing his cock through his pants the entire time. Only the moonlight and the phone lit up the alleyway, and any passersby would be hard-pressed to see what Marvin was actually doing.

Another thought crossed Marvin's mind, a much more devious one. "What if I wear Nightwing's sweaty suit? It's rubber, so it should fit me no matter what, and even if it is a little bit, so what?" His cock was leaking precum at anticipation of wearing Nightwing's sweaty suit, and he decided to just do it. He turned off his phone, as he was going to strip naked first, to feel the sweat up against his bare skin. He didn't want to be arrested for public indecency, though, despite the alleyway almost being as dark as night itself. He stripped out of all of his clothes, freeing his throbbing boner, and then slipped himself into the suit, and put on the boots as well.

As he expected, the suit was a bit big on him, but not by much. He was a bit surprised by that, considering how muscular Nightwing looked in photos. And not to mention that fuckin' ass as well! Marvin wished that he had an ass like that, and as luck would have it, he would soon have an ass like that. As Marvin went to take off the suit, he felt a strange feeling all over his body. He had never felt something like this before, and to be quite honest, it felt fuckin' good. He didn't know what the fuck was happening to him, though, and as he felt around on the ground for his phone, he noticed something quite strange.

His arms were slowly but surely filling out the Nightwing suit! Marvin would have never realized this, but the defense mechanism activated from the tracker turned the next person who wore the clothing it was attached to into a carbon copy of the individual. The tracker was supposed to be taken off by someone else and the clothes worn by someone in the crime organization, not some random stranger in the middle of Gotham. However, that was what was happening right now, and Marvin stopped looking for his phone to admire his newfound muscles.

"Wow, I'm getting fuckin' jacked!" he said to himself. "I wonder if these are padded muscles, though, maybe a trick of the moonlight." When he pinched himself in the bicep, though, he realized that these were the real deal. "What the fuck is happening to me!?" Marvin thought, both scared and excited about the muscle growth happening to him. Like most gay men, and like some thinks, he wanted to be a muscular hunk, and now he was somehow getting that opportunity! He wished that he could have seen his actual biceps, skin and hair and all, but the pain throughout his body from the muscle growth made it difficult to take off the suit.

Along with some muscle growth in his neck and traps that wasn't really visible readily, the next part of the muscle growth that Marvin noticed was in his pecs. The twink had naturally had flat pecs before, but he watched as the front of the suit slowly jutted out from his body more and more. He was gaining muscle mass by the second, and his pecs ended up being big and juicy and firm. His nipples were also quite sensitive to the touch now, thankfully not visible through the suit, even when erect, but likely that way from rubbing up against the suit so often.

As Marvin played with his new juicy pecs, the next physical change occurred, although he couldn't really tell it was happening until his new eight-pack of abs protruded from his stomach that much that they made outlines on the suit. He stopped playing with his pecs and began tracing the outlines of his abs over the suit, all eight of them, thick and chiseled. He also gained some shredded obliques as well, also accentuated by the suit, but it was his frontal abs that he was more excited about.

The changes then skipped the genitals and moved down to the legs. Surprisingly, there wasn't much of a change there, as Marvin had already had muscular legs from all of the running he did, and Nightwing was fairly lean down there as well. A bit more muscle was added, though, but Marvin didn't start feeling up his thighs or anything like that. The suit was now nearly filled out, but the physical changes weren't done yet. Marvin felt his cock get bigger and bigger now, both in length and in girth. Of course, he couldn't see it thanks to the suit, and there was no bulge in the suit as well, but he could physically feel the growth as stuff moved around down there, and he couldn't wait to play with it once the transformation was done.

And finally came the piece de resistance of the transformation. Marvin turned and looked at his ass to the best of his ability as it began getting bigger and bigger, thicker and juicier. It was like the ass growth would never stop, his glutes continuing to increase in size until they were definitely considered a bubble butt, the infamous Nightwing bubble butt that Marvin knew and loved. He smacked his new bubble butt a few times, and it was surprisingly firm. He didn't know that much muscle could be packed into your glutes, but he certainly wasn't complaining! And with that muscle growth transformation, Marvin finally filled out the suit perfectly.

The next physical changes that occurred were all but impossible for Marvin to see, as they happened on his face and all over his body, which was covered completely but the still sweaty and musky Nightwing suit. Marvin's skin changed to perfectly match Dick Grayson's, tone and lack of hair and all. His facial structure, hair and eye color, ear shape, and everything else that would make Marvin into Dick Grayson physically changed around this time. A minute or so later, Marvin was a perfect carbon copy of Nightwing/Dick Grayson, except that he was still "Marvin".

His hands moved from his ass to the sides of his head as he had a pounding headache come on. The mental changes started to occur, and Marvin found himself losing himself and becoming a bona fide superhero. He had memories of supervillains, where the Batcave was, who Batman really was, and so on. It took a few minutes, but eventually the pain subsided, and Marvin was no longer Marvin. Instead, he was another Dick Grayson, the superhero Nightwing with the amazing ass and surprisingly sweaty and musky suit.

Armed with his new knowledge, and especially his new acrobatic skills, he made his way back to the Batcave undetected. Bruce was in for quite a shock when "Nightwing," really Marvin, wanted to gain access to the Batcave. He was looking at Nightwing right now, wearing a different suit and boots that he was slowing starting to stink up. However, the advanced-level biometrics and other precautions Bruce had in place all agreed that, somehow, this was also Dick Grayson. He wondered if there had been a timeline incursion or something else, and let "Marvin" in.

He ran some tests on "Marvin", and since he was Batman after all, he ascertained that this had been some random person off the street who had found Nightwing's discarded suit and had succumbed to the defense mechanism of a tracker from one of Gotham's notorious gangs. Unfortunately, not even someone like Bruce could change him back into what he was before, and while he could have called in someone like Zatanna to change Marvin back, Bruce quickly realized that having two identical Nightwings, with the same training and all, would be quite beneficial. "Marvin" as Nightwing was dispatched to Bludhaven to deal with the crime there, while the OG Dick Grayson remained in Gotham to help Bruce out. No one was the wiser to the ruse that Batman employed, and it did actually help to reduce crime in both cities.

[hunkpossession0]

Now that's a trailer(I hope they create a sequel for that movie with this man being the main character)

Via X.

[hunkpossession0]

After the body swap If you got ideas please write a story with this video

[hunkpossession0]

Yeah... that's right man. In a few moments, that precious body is going to be mine. You better enjoy your last few minutes before I swap us and call myself Lucas Alvarez.

You see, I have this unfortunate 'curse' given to me by my ex-boyfriend that makes it so every 24 hours, I'm forced into the body of the person nearest me and we swap places. He used it to steal my body and now I'm forever stuck with new names and faces that I will never grow used to.

At first, I really did think of it as a curse. I woke up the first day as my ex. It was weird being him for a day. All I wanted to do was punch my own face and humiliate him but couldn't really bring myself to do it. I had no idea how the curse worked so when I suddenly swapped into his mom, I was really in for a shock. Fast forward a few decades and here I still am.

My latest sight was this gym rat, Lucas. He was sexy, hairy, tall, muscular, and unfortunately very straight. The way he ogled other women in the gym and offered to give them 'advice' was honestly sickening. Still though, he had a deep voice that sent shivers down my spine and a handsome jockish face that was wasted on an absolute trash personality.

So now's the time to let you know that I have 5 minutes left before the swap occurs. I've just so happened to put myself in the hottest chick in the gym and I couldn't wait to swap with that beefcake. He's already been watching me from across the gym so this should be easy... I can't wait to swap into Lucas, try on his clothes, sniff his underwear and socks, pound some twinks, and absolutely humiliate myself.

"Hey, you're lifting that weight wrong you know..." Lucas says as he coolly comes up to me at the gym.

"Oh really? Well maybe you can show me." I say in my body's voice as I accept his invitation.

You're making this too easy Lucas.

[hunkpossession0]

The Distance

Ethan and Damian had been together for three years, but now, with work pulling them in different directions, they found themselves living in different cities. Their daily routine had shifted to frequent texts, video calls, and, most importantly, selfies. It was their way of keeping the spark alive, seeing each other's faces and bodies in playful, intimate snapshots that reminded them of what they were missing. Ethan would send his soft, understated poses, while Damian, being bolder, would send selfies with his arms flexed or behind his head, a look of pride in his eyes.

The long distance had been tough, though. No matter how many selfies they shared, Ethan found it hard not to miss the way Damian felt in his arms, his stocky build, and that familiar, rugged scent.

One day, as Ethan came home from work, he saw a package waiting at his doorstep. It was from Damian. The note inside was brief but personal: "Hope this gift helps you remember me every time you use it."

Curiosity piqued, Ethan opened the package. Inside was something unexpected—a full-body suit. But not just any suit. As he lifted it out of the box, he realized it was Damian. The suit was designed to look exactly like Damian’s body—broad shoulders, muscular arms, and even a beard that seemed too real to be synthetic. Ethan was speechless. The texture was eerily similar to Damian’s skin, the build felt right, and even the scent lingered.

Ethan chuckled to himself, already knowing what Damian had in mind. His hands shook slightly as he pulled the suit closer, feeling the weight of it. The inner lining was smooth and cool against his skin. Slowly, he stepped into it, starting with his legs. The suit stretched over his slender thighs, bulking them up as they matched Damian's muscular shape. He worked it over his hips and torso, each part of his body now transforming into a replica of Damian's stocky, powerful form.

As Ethan slid his arms into the suit, he noticed the muscles in the suit pressing against his skin, filling out the fabric. His arms were suddenly thick and toned, just like Damian’s. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and paused. It was surreal. There, staring back at him, was the image of Damian—his broad shoulders, chest, and arms. The detail in the suit was incredible, down to the faint scars and freckles that Ethan had memorized from running his hands over Damian’s body.

Then came the final step—the mask. Ethan lifted it up, hesitating for a moment before pulling it over his head. It fit snugly, but not uncomfortably. His curly hair disappeared under the mask, replaced by Damian's shorter, thick hair. The mustache Ethan once wore was now replaced with Damian's full beard. Ethan blinked, adjusting to the feeling of the suit completely enveloping him.

He turned back to the mirror. He was Damian. From the stocky, muscular build to the confident glint in his eyes. Ethan flexed his new biceps, mirroring the pose Damian often sent in his selfies—the one where he raised his arms above his head, flexing with an exaggerated, almost douchey face. He struck another pose, this time hands on his hips, chest puffed out, just as Damian would. It was bizarre, yet oddly comforting. For the first time in months, Ethan felt like Damian was right there with him.

He grabbed his phone and started snapping selfies, imitating every pose Damian had sent him over the past few months. Flexing, smirking, even that goofy pose where he held his arms behind his head, showing off his muscular frame with a cocky smile. Ethan couldn't help but laugh, sending the photos back to Damian with a simple message: "How did I do?"

Ethan stared at the last selfie he had just taken, flexing in the exact way Damian always did. It felt bizarrely natural—like he could embody Damian perfectly now that he had the suit on. As the thought sank in, an idea crept into his mind. What if he went out for the night as Damian? He’d been feeling the distance for months, missing not just Damian’s body but his presence—the way he carried himself, the easy confidence, the way his laugh could fill a room. Maybe this was his chance to feel close to him in a way he hadn’t since they’d been apart. A solo date—as Damian. Ethan looked into the mirror again, adjusting the collar of the shirt he was now wearing over the suit. The fabric clung to Damian’s muscular build, which Ethan was now wearing like a second skin. He rolled his shoulders back, mimicking Damian’s usual swagger. Ethan knew Damian's mannerisms by heart—the way he always took long strides, head slightly tilted back, a subtle grin on his face as if he were in on a private joke the world hadn’t caught onto yet. With a smirk, Ethan grabbed Damian’s favorite jacket—a leather one that added to his tough exterior—and slipped it over his shoulders. "Alright," he muttered to himself, adjusting his voice to match Damian's deep, rumbling tone. "Let’s see what this feels like." He stepped outside, the evening air cool against the suit, but he felt warm—strangely invigorated. The town felt different from this new perspective. Ethan made his way down the street toward a small bar that he and Damian had always loved, a spot they used to frequent for casual dates. He walked with a bit of Damian’s usual swagger, head held high, hands in his pockets, exuding confidence in every step. His body moved like Damian’s now, with the natural ease and slight cockiness that came from years of being in the body of someone who knew exactly how to draw attention. He arrived at the bar, and the moment he stepped inside, he noticed the glances. He hadn’t fully expected it, but people were looking. Damian had always turned heads wherever he went, and now he was the one drawing those looks. Ethan felt a jolt of excitement—being in Damian’s skin was empowering. He slid up to the bar, leaning casually against it, and gave the bartender a nod. “What can I get you?” the bartender asked, giving him the kind of glance Damian often got—one of appreciation, or maybe even slight intimidation. “Whiskey,” Ethan said, his voice deep and gruff like Damian’s. It felt strange, but thrilling, to speak like this.

As Ethan nursed his whiskey, leaning casually against the bar like Damian always did, he felt a sense of ease wash over him. For the first time since Damian had sent the suit, he wasn’t just wearing it—he was Damian. The muscles, the swagger, the attitude... It all felt right. But then the test came, a test Ethan hadn't anticipated.

“Damian?” a voice called from behind him.

Ethan stiffened, his heart skipping a beat. Slowly, he turned around, locking eyes with a tall, athletic man wearing a friendly grin. It was Tyler, one of Damian’s old friends. Ethan’s mind raced. They had met once, briefly, but Ethan doubted Tyler would recognize him now, not with the suit on. But Tyler knew Damian—his speech patterns, his mannerisms. If Ethan wasn’t convincing enough, the jig would be up in an instant.

“Hey, man!” Tyler approached, clasping Ethan on the shoulder in a familiar way. “Haven’t seen you around in a minute. Thought you moved out of town.”

Ethan forced a smirk, pulling on Damian’s casual, confident tone. “Nah, just been busy with work. You know how it is.”

Tyler laughed. “Same old Damian. You still hitting the gym every morning, huh? Don’t know how you keep this bulk on with that schedule of yours.”

Ethan flexed his arm slightly, mimicking the way Damian always responded to compliments about his build. “Gotta keep up the routine, man,” he replied with a cocky grin, trying to mirror Damian’s playful energy.

Tyler nodded approvingly and ordered a drink. The conversation continued, but Ethan was hyper-aware of every word, every gesture. He mimicked Damian’s relaxed, yet confident posture, nodding when Tyler talked about their shared gym sessions, even throwing in some gym lingo that he remembered from Damian. Ethan felt the tension rise with every interaction, but Tyler didn’t seem to notice anything off.

“So, what’re you doing here tonight, man?” Tyler asked, taking a sip of his beer. “Thought you were more of a date-night guy when you came to this place.”

Ethan swallowed, maintaining his Damian-like composure. “Ah, you know, just thought I’d fly solo tonight. Needed a break, some time to clear my head.”

Tyler gave him a knowing look. “Right, right. Well, don’t go too long without seeing your man. You’re a lucky bastard, and you know it.”

Ethan laughed, playing along, though it was a bittersweet reminder of Damian’s absence. Tyler clinked his glass against Ethan’s and the two shared a few more laughs, but soon, Tyler’s phone buzzed.

“Gotta run,” Tyler said, giving Ethan a quick pat on the back. “Good catching up, bro. Let’s hit the gym next time you’re free.”

“Yeah, man. Sounds good,” Ethan replied, waving Tyler off.

As Tyler left the bar, Ethan exhaled a long, relieved breath. He had passed. Tyler didn’t suspect a thing. He had impersonated Damian perfectly—his voice, his mannerisms, even the subtle way he moved and spoke. For a brief moment, Ethan wasn’t just wearing Damian’s skin; he was Damian in every sense of the word. It was exhilarating, nerve-wracking, and, oddly, comforting all at once.

Ethan took a sip of his whiskey, the adrenaline still rushing through him. The thrill of having to embody Damian so perfectly left him almost giddy. As he looked around the bar one last time, he realized how easy it had been. He had seamlessly slipped into Damian’s life, impersonating him so convincingly that even Damian’s friend couldn’t tell the difference.

A grin tugged at Ethan’s lips. The suit wasn’t just a way to feel close to Damian—it was a tool, a way to become him whenever Ethan wanted. The possibilities were endless, and for the first time in weeks, he didn’t feel the sting of distance between them.

He sent one final selfie to Damian that night, a stoic look on his face, striking a classic Damian pose—arms up, flexing. Along with the photo, he sent a simple message: I think I’ll be putting this suit to good use babe.

[hunkpossession0]

The Accident

There I was, floating above my body on Halloween night. It was supposed to be just another night out, but a deer darted in front of my car on the way home from the party. I swerved—too hard. My car rolled into a ditch, and just like that, my 22-year-old life ended.

But instead of the peaceful walk toward the light, I found myself staring at my broken body from above, my mind reeling. I expected angels, a tunnel, something comforting to guide me into whatever came next. Instead, there was a raspy chuckle from behind me.

“Man, you’ve really done it now.”

I turned, and there he was—the Grim Reaper. He didn’t look all that intimidating, just tired, like he was running late for a shift at a soul-harvesting factory. His black robe was wrinkled, and his scythe looked more ceremonial than functional.

“Uh, shouldn’t I be… judged or something? What’s going on?” I asked, gesturing to my body below, panic rising in my chest.

The Reaper sighed, clearly bored. “Well, see, I’d love to shuffle you off to the afterlife, but there’s a small issue. Some ancestor of yours made a deal with a witch a long time ago, and now you’re cursed. You’ve still got ten years left in you.”

“Wait, what? I’m dead!” I waved my hands through the air, trying to grasp something, anything that made sense.

“Yeah, but you’re not done living. Not yet. So, here’s the deal: every year, on Halloween at 3:33 AM, you’re gonna possess someone’s body for a year. Your soul is bound to this book”—he pulled out an old orange book with frayed edges—“and whoever reads it, you’ll get to hijack for a while. Ten bodies, ten lives. After that, you can move on.”

I stared at him, my head spinning. “What the hell? That sounds awful. What if no one reads the book?”

The Reaper shrugged. “Then you wait around. Could be hours, could be years. Guess you’ll have to get good at convincing people to read it. Anyway, your ride’s about to start.” He pointed ahead.

A man in his forties was standing near my wrecked car, speaking urgently into his phone. “Yeah, I’ve got a body here. I think he’s gone. I need help right away.”

“That’s Diego. He’s your ticket for the next year,” the Reaper said, his grin widening. “Good luck, kid.”

Before I could protest, Diego found the book. He flipped it open, scanning the first page. I felt it immediately—an invisible force pulling me toward him. With a rush, I was flung into his body, and everything went black.

When I came to, I was in Diego’s body. At first, it was like wearing a suit that didn’t fit quite right. My fingers were longer, my limbs more slender. The world felt different through his eyes, sharper, more aware.

I was still standing next to my wrecked car, but now I was him.

“Hello? Sir, are you still there?” The 911 operator’s voice crackled through the phone in my hand. “Uh, yeah, I’m here. His name’s Jacob,” I said, my voice sounding foreign and unfamiliar. I hung up and glanced down, checking Diego’s pockets for ID. His wallet had the name Diego Hernandez, and a quick glance at his phone showed him as some high-up exec. There was also a picture of him and another man, smiling at a beach. Diego’s partner, I assumed.

---

The next year wasn’t just about pretending to be Diego; it became a delicate balancing act of reshaping him. Diego had been a meticulous, sharp-minded executive, always composed and polished. But I wasn’t Diego—I was Jacob, a 22-year-old who had no idea how to lead a high-powered life. Instead of trying to mirror his every move, I leaned into changing him, slowly but surely.

People started to notice. Diego had once been all about spreadsheets and efficiency, but under my influence, he loosened up. I made him more laid-back, the kind of guy who’d crack a joke in meetings instead of keeping things strictly business. He started eating lunch with the lower-level employees, not just his tight-knit executive circle, and he’d leave work earlier instead of burning the midnight oil. There was more swagger to the way he walked, a more casual confidence in his approach to work.

Some people liked the change; others weren’t so sure. I could tell by the sideways glances during meetings and the hushed conversations in the hallways. Carlos, though, seemed to love it. He said I—I mean Diego—was more fun, more present. That always made me pause.

Carlos. That was a whole other challenge. I wasn’t gay in my past life, so the idea of being in a relationship with a man like Carlos was something I hadn’t been prepared for. But the craziest part? Diego’s body responded to him—automatically. Even if I felt awkward in my head, my body didn’t hesitate when Carlos touched me, kissed me, or pulled me into his arms.

At first, it freaked me out. I wasn’t used to the physical chemistry that sparked between us, but I had to play along. I’d catch myself wondering what the hell was happening to me, feeling Carlos’s hand on my shoulder or his lips on mine and sensing the warmth that flooded Diego’s body in response. It was like Diego’s attraction to him was embedded in the body itself, like muscle memory. And I couldn’t stop it.

Over time, I grew more comfortable playing the role, though the constant reminders of who I was versus who Diego had been messed with my head. Was I just pretending, or was I actually starting to like Carlos in some way? It didn’t matter—I couldn’t let it. I reminded myself that I was Jacob, just a guy stuck in someone else’s life for the year.

Still, there were moments where I found myself almost... enjoying it. I learned to navigate their routines, whether it was cooking dinner together or cuddling on the couch watching old movies. I got used to how my body relaxed around Carlos, even though I tried to keep some distance mentally.

But by the time Halloween rolled around again, I knew I couldn’t keep it up much longer. I wanted to move on, to something younger, more exciting. Someone who could relive the youth I’d lost. I had my sights set on Chris, the fresh-faced 24-year-old at the office. He was everything Diego wasn’t—youthful, carefree, with a sharp wit and a charm that seemed to come effortlessly. I was done playing Diego’s role.

I was ready to live again—my way.

It was a Friday afternoon, the office buzzing with pre-weekend energy. Chris was leaning against the wall by Diego’s desk, casually flipping through some papers. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off toned forearms that I couldn’t help but notice. "So, Diego," Chris said with that easy smile, "you going to the Halloween party tonight? I hear it’s going to be a good one."

I smirked inwardly. Perfect. Tonight would be the night. “Yeah, I’ll be there,” I said, nodding, “What about you? You’ve got a costume ready?”

Chris chuckled, “You’ll just have to wait and see. Let’s just say I’m going for something classic.” He winked, and I felt a twinge of anticipation. I’d planned everything down to the minute. Tonight, Chris would get his hands on that book, and by 3:33 AM, I’d be out of Diego’s body and into his.

But as Chris and I continued to chat, I couldn’t help but notice Jason in the background. He was seated at his desk across the room, hunched over in his usual gray polo that stretched a little too tight across his broad shoulders. Jason was the office gym bro—always talking about his latest workout routine, always finding ways to make the most mundane tasks a little goofy.

“Yo, Diego!” Jason called from his desk, spinning around in his chair with a wide grin. “You gonna see me crush it in my costume tonight? It’s gonna be epic, man!”

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help smiling at his antics. Jason, mid-30s and built like a linebacker, was always full of energy—probably too much energy for most people. He was the kind of guy who’d slap you on the back a little too hard and make awkward jokes at the wrong time, but he was harmless. Loud, goofy, and always the life of the party, even if people didn’t always take him seriously.

Chris shook his head, grinning at Jason’s enthusiasm. “Let me guess, you’re going as a superhero?”

“Nah, man! I’m mixing it up this year,” Jason said with a mock-serious expression, then cracked into a laugh. “You’ll just have to wait and see, too. But let’s just say it’s gonna be swole!”

I laughed, playing along, though in the back of my mind, I kept my focus on Chris. Jason was just noise in the background, a distraction. Tonight wasn’t about him. Tonight was my night to take control of Chris’s life, to finally move on from Diego’s world and slip into something fresher and younger.

But as I glanced back at Jason, still chuckling to himself at his desk, a small voice in the back of my mind wondered if things could go off track. After all, nothing in this bizarre afterlife had gone exactly as planned. And Jason’s loud, over-the-top presence seemed to have a way of crashing into situations he wasn’t invited to.

Shaking the thought off, I turned back to Chris, locking in on the real target. Everything was going to go right tonight—I was sure of it.

Or so I thought.

--

The morning of Halloween, I woke up earlier than usual. The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a faint glow on Diego’s room. I sat up in bed, running my hands over his chest, his skin smooth and warm beneath my fingers. It was strange—this would be my last few hours in this body.

Leaving Carlos sleeping in bed I headed to the backyard with a coffee in hand to go sit outside. On impulse, I opened my camera app. A quick snap—Diego’s reflection staring back at me from the screen. He looked good, I had to admit. Diego had the kind of face that turned heads—a strong jawline, neatly trimmed beard, piercing eyes. Not too bad for my first possession. I’d gotten lucky landing in a body like his, a handsome stud who could command attention just by walking into a room.

But as I stared at the photo, a wave of conflicted feelings hit me. I was ready to move on, yes—ready for a new life, a younger body, someone with more energy. But at the same time, there was something unsettling about leaving. Diego had become part of me in a way I hadn’t anticipated. The routines, the habits, the life I’d built over the past year—it wasn’t just Diego’s anymore. It was mine, too. And I wasn’t sure I was ready to let it go.

I set the phone down, exhaling slowly. Time was running out. By the end of the night, I’d be gone from this body, and Diego would go back to being himself. No memory of me, no sign that I’d ever been here. A part of me wondered if he’d even notice any change at all.

But that was the deal. Ten bodies, ten years. And Diego had been just the start.

---

The bar was nearly empty now, with just a few lingering colleagues laughing loudly in the corner. The company Halloween party had been a success—most people had already stumbled out, but the dim lighting and half-empty drinks left behind gave the place a lazy, comfortable atmosphere. It was late, and I only had one thing on my mind: getting Chris to read the damn book.

I spotted him at the bar, chatting with a coworker before they said their goodbyes. He was the last person I needed here tonight. Chris—young, in shape, and full of potential. Exactly the kind of person I would’ve been had I not died at 22. He was everything I wanted now: his youth, his confidence, his energy.

I approached him, holding the orange book in my hand like a harmless accessory. I’d spent the last few weeks preparing, figuring out how to make this moment happen without raising suspicion.

“Hey, Chris,” I said, sliding onto the barstool next to him. “That was a great party, huh?”

He smiled, that easy, charming grin that made people like him immediately. “Yeah, it was. You know, I don’t usually stick around this late, but it’s Halloween, so why not?”

I laughed. “Exactly. Speaking of Halloween, I’ve been meaning to ask—you ever read this?” I casually placed the book on the bar between us, the title catching the dim light.

Chris glanced at it, intrigued. “Can’t say I have. What is it?”

“Just something spooky, thought it was perfect for tonight. It’s one of those weird, old books you’d expect to find in a haunted house. Gives you chills just reading it.” I pushed it a little closer to him, watching his reaction. I needed him to take the bait. “You should check it out.”

He reached for it, fingers brushing the cover, and I felt a surge of anticipation. I glanced at my watch—3:25. The window was coming up. I just needed to keep him engaged for a few more minutes and—

“Diego! Man, there you are!” A booming voice interrupted my thoughts.

Jason.

I turned around to see Jason approaching, drink in hand, as loud and boisterous as always. He clapped me on the back with a little too much force and leaned against the bar.

“Hey, Jason,” I said, trying to hide my irritation.

“Chris, my man! You still here too?” Jason grinned, turning to us both. Then his eyes landed on the book. “Whoa, what’s this?”

I could feel my plan slipping away. “Oh, nothing, just a spooky read I was showing Chris. Kind of an old Halloween thing.”

Jason’s eyes lit up. “I love that kind of stuff! Is it one of those cursed books or something?” He snatched it off the bar before I could react.

“No, Jason, it’s really not for—”

But he was already flipping it open, his eyes scanning the pages. “Dude, I love this kind of creepy shit. Let’s see what it says…”

I felt the familiar tug in my chest, the sudden, overwhelming force that signaled the beginning of the transfer. No, no, no—this wasn’t supposed to happen! My plan had been foolproof. Chris was supposed to read the book, not Jason.

I tried to fight it, to stay grounded in Diego’s body, but it was useless. The pull was too strong. I felt myself being yanked away from Diego, ripped from his life, from his relationship with Carlos, from everything I’d built over the last year.

With a final, helpless glance at Chris, I was hurtling through the air, straight toward Jason. My ghostly form slammed into him from behind, and everything went dark.

When I blinked back into awareness, I was no longer in Diego’s slim, precise body. Instead, I felt bulkier, heavier, muscles straining against my clothes. I looked down and saw Jason’s hands—large, calloused, a far cry from Diego’s delicate fingers.

I’d missed my target.

Jason looked up from the book, blinking as if in a daze. I could feel his mind reeling from the brief possession, trying to make sense of the sudden flood of my consciousness. I swallowed hard and cleared my throat, adjusting to the deeper voice that now came out of Jason’s mouth.

“Chris, man,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, “you should really check out that book sometime.”

Chris, completely oblivious to what had just happened, gave me a puzzled smile. “Maybe next time, Diego—uh, Jason?”

I forced a grin, feeling the weight of Jason’s body settle around me. This was not how it was supposed to go. But I wasn’t done yet.

The transfer was jarring. Jason’s body was completely different from Diego’s lean frame. He was heavy, muscular, and I immediately felt the strain of his bulk. I blinked, adjusting to the new weight, the tightness of his clothes, and the strange sense of power that came with his physique.

I looked down at my new hands—massive, calloused, and strong. Jason’s body was like a machine, perfectly sculpted from hours at the gym. I flexed, feeling the muscle ripple under the skin, a grin creeping across my face despite the frustration of my failed plan.

I stumbled into the bathroom, needing a moment to adjust. The reflection that stared back at me in the mirror was foreign yet strangely exhilarating. Jason’s chiseled face, his broad shoulders—this was a body that commanded attention, and I could see why he was always the center of the office gym culture.

“Damn you know what…,” I muttered, rolling my shoulders and smirking at the reflection. “Not exactly what I planned, but I can work with this.”

---

As I left the bathroom of the bar, adjusting to the weight of Jason’s body, I spotted Diego by the exit. He was leaning against the wall, looking a bit off-balance. He rubbed his temples as if he were trying to shake off a hangover, though I knew better. That woozy feeling wasn’t the alcohol—it was the lingering aftermath of having someone else control your body for a year.

Diego glanced up and caught my eye. "Man, I think I had too much to drink," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He was disoriented, confused—but completely unaware of the truth. Part of me wondered if some fragment of our time together would eventually surface in his mind, a fleeting déjà vu that would never make sense to him.

Chris, still chatting by the bar, noticed Diego’s state and waved him over. “Hey, Diego! You okay, man? You’re looking kinda pale.”

Diego chuckled weakly and gave a dismissive wave. “Yeah, just… probably need to get home. Been a long night.”

I—Jason now—watched from a few feet away, leaning against the bathroom doorframe. It was surreal, seeing Diego like this, so unaware that I had been him for an entire year. I hadn’t realized how much I’d grown used to his body until now, standing in Jason’s much bulkier form. And Carlos… God, I would miss him. The way Diego’s body responded to him was like nothing I’d ever experienced. The closeness, the warmth—it was something I hadn’t anticipated, and now it was gone. The thought gnawed at me, but I shoved it down.

I approached them casually, adopting Jason’s confident stride. “Diego, you heading out already?” My voice—Jason’s voice—sounded deeper, rougher, and it still felt foreign on my tongue.

Diego nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, think I’ve had enough for tonight. You guys sticking around?”

Chris shrugged. “I might hang for a bit longer. Jason, you?”

I glanced at Diego one last time, a strange sense of finality washing over me. “Yeah, I’ll stick around.” I couldn’t say goodbye, not in any real sense, but watching Diego walk out that door felt like the closing of a chapter I wasn’t entirely ready to end.

Diego gave a tired smile and a wave as he headed toward the exit. As he left, I felt something shift in the air—a realization that I’d never be a part of his life again. And Carlos... part of me almost wanted to follow Diego just to see Carlos one more time, but what was the point? That chapter was over. I had to focus on what was ahead.

I turned back to the bar, Jason’s broad shoulders carrying me with ease as I slid onto a stool. The male bartender looked up from wiping glasses, his eyes flicking to mine. There was a spark of interest in his gaze that made me pause. The guy was rugged, with stubble that framed a sharp jawline, and he held my stare for a moment too long before smirking.

“Another drink?” he asked, his voice low.

I leaned forward, matching his energy. “Yeah, sure. What do you recommend?”

As he poured, I couldn’t help but smirk to myself. Maybe missing my target wasn’t such a bad turn of events after all. Jason’s life was already starting to look interesting in ways I hadn’t expected.

---

Jason’s life was a far cry from Diego’s rigid routine, but in a way, it was exactly what I had been craving—freedom, excitement, and a lot less pressure. I wasn’t waking up at 6 AM anymore to go over emails or prepping for another mind-numbing executive meeting. Now, I was hitting the gym early, flexing in the mirror with every rep, and enjoying the newfound strength that came with Jason’s bulk.

The office was different, too. Jason wasn’t tied down with endless responsibilities like Diego had been. He wasn’t the serious type, and that gave me room to breathe. I could joke with coworkers, mess around without people raising their eyebrows. And surprisingly, people liked Jason—a lot. His goofy charm, the way he could lighten the mood, made him well-liked around the office. It was almost the opposite of what I had with Diego, where I had to constantly maintain an image of perfection.

I’d even started to develop a routine at the gym that Jason had frequented. His body craved the weight of the dumbbells, and I found a strange satisfaction in pushing it to its limits. Each rep felt like a reminder that I was in control, molding Jason’s life however I saw fit.

But there was more to it than just working out. Jason had a social circle that was open and inviting. I could walk into a bar, crack a joke, and people would laugh, slap me on the back, and offer me a drink. I was the center of attention—whether at work, at the gym, or on a night out with the guys. It was a rush.

Of course, there were parts of Jason’s life that were chaotic, but it was the kind of chaos I could handle. He wasn’t perfect—his apartment was a mess, his dating life was all over the place, and his diet consisted mostly of protein shakes and fast food—but it didn’t bother me. This was my playground now, and I could shape it however I wanted.

Jason’s life was simple—lift, laugh, and live.

One afternoon, Jason’s muscles taut from a workout, I caught myself smirking at my phones reflection in my car. I flexed in his tight blue gym shirt, feeling the definition in his arms, his chest. The life I had now? It wasn’t the one I had planned for, but it felt good. Real good.

---

Really enjoyed writing this one. Here's another halloween story for the month. Let me know what y'all think. Would you be upset with being Jason or did you want the main character to end up in Chris? Let me know - The Shift

[hunkpossession0]

The Halloween Party 2

The party buzzed with energy—laughter, music, and conversation filled every room of the house. Adam, looking like a well-dressed Arabic man, moved through the crowd, attempting to play his part. Everyone around him just assumed he was another party guest, unaware that beneath the suit was someone entirely different. He smiled, sipped his drink, and chatted with a few people, but something was off.

As the night wore on, Adam noticed that the more he acted as this man—whom he didn’t even know—the more distant his own memories became. Names, faces, moments from his life blurred together, slipping away into the fog of his mind. He tried to focus, but every time he did, memories that weren’t his—flashes of a different life, in a different world—flooded in. It was like the suit was trying to overwrite him.

While lost in thought, someone approached him—a tall man with a wide grin and an easygoing manner. “Hey, man! Haven’t seen you before. Are you one of Adam's friends? That man can talk his ass off can't he?”

Adam smiled automatically, trying to keep up appearances. “Yeah, you could say that,” he replied, his voice sounding strange to his own ears, thicker and unfamiliar. He took another sip of his drink, feeling a bit off-balance.

The man chuckled, eyeing him curiously. “You’ve got an accent. Where you from?”

For a second, Adam’s mind went blank. Where was he from? He tried to pull from his real memories—his hometown, his family—but instead, something else slipped out, something that felt rehearsed, like it was buried deep in the suit itself. “Ah, just a small town, you know,” he said with a grin that felt too wide. “Far from here, but close in spirit, if you catch my drift.”

The man blinked, laughing awkwardly. “Right... So, you enjoying the party?”

Adam nodded, feeling the strange words continue to pour out of his mouth without his control. “Oh, absolutely, brother! Life is short, no? Gotta live it with big smiles and a warm heart. That’s what we always say, back home.”

He cringed inwardly. He would never say something like that—it was too cheesy, too much—but the words came out easily, as if the suit was feeding him lines, giving him a new personality that didn’t quite fit his usual goofy self. He wasn’t the type to speak in proverbs, but it felt like he couldn’t stop.

The man chuckled again, though he seemed a bit confused now. “Oh bet man. Well, enjoy yourself. See ya around!” With a quick nod and dab, he moved off into the crowd, leaving Adam standing there, feeling like a puppet controlled by some unseen force.

As Adam watched him walk away, his mind reeled. The more he tried to act natural, the more this unfamiliar persona took over. He realized he’d barely said anything that sounded like him. His usual jokes, the easygoing banter, even his goofy laugh—it had all been replaced by these strange quirks, sayings, and phrases that weren’t his own. He wasn’t acting like Adam anymore.

He was acting like the man in the suit.

In the distance, Adam spotted Jack, who had taken on the appearance of a white man in his mid-thirties, with the hardened look of a soldier. Jack was laughing, engaging a small group of partygoers in conversation, but something about him seemed… off. His mannerisms were different. The real Jack wasn’t this charismatic, wasn’t this outgoing. As Adam watched, Jack’s smile lingered just a little too long, his eyes a little too sharp, scanning the crowd as though he were on a mission.

Adam felt a chill run down his spine.

He needed a moment to collect himself. The growing sense of unease—coupled with the way his thoughts were fading—was becoming unbearable. He ducked away from the crowd, making his way toward the bathroom. Once inside, Adam locked the door behind him, letting out a shaky breath. The bathroom was quiet, offering a brief escape from the noise of the party. He quickly undressed himself feeling the rush of anxiety causing him to sweat in a sudden panic. 

He stepped in front of the mirror, staring at the unfamiliar face reflected back at him through his camera lens. The Arabic man’s features stared back at him—handsome, sharp, but entirely not his own. Adam raised a trembling hand and touched his face. His skin felt strange, foreign. And then, like a floodgate opening, memories started to pour in.

Images of a life he had never lived—a family, a job, struggles, and triumphs that weren’t his—played in his mind. His hand dropped from his face, and he stumbled back, gasping. Who was this man? And why did his memories feel so real? The more Adam focused on them, the more his own memories—the memories of Adam—faded into the background.

He gripped the sink, panic rising in his chest. His heart raced. “This isn’t real,” he whispered to himself, but even his voice sounded different, thicker, with an accent that wasn’t his.

Just then, the door creaked open, and Jack stepped in, closing it softly behind him. Adam looked up sharply, his eyes wide with fear. “What… what’s happening to me?”

Jack took a step closer, his eyes scanning Adam’s face and naked body carefully. “It’s the suit,” he said quietly, his voice steady but with an edge of something deeper. “It’s messing with your head, isn’t it?”

Adam jolted when he found Jack inside the bathroom with him seeing his new body exposed while also feeling a strange sense of vulnerability in front of Jack. His heart was still racing, but Jack’s presence—though unsettling in some way—was also oddly comforting. Jack stepped even closer, their bodies almost touching now.

“You’re not the only one,” Jack murmured, his hand brushing lightly against Adam’s arm. “It’s getting to me too.”

There was a charged silence between them. Adam’s breathing hitched slightly as Jack’s hand lingered, his touch sending a shiver down his spine. The tension in the room shifted—something about the intensity of Jack’s gaze, the way his lips curved into a half-smile, felt different. Flirtatious.

Adam’s pulse quickened for a different reason now. The fear still lingered, but there was something else, something magnetic between them that hadn’t been there before. Jack leaned in, his breath warm against Adam’s ear. “You don’t have to fight it, you know,” Jack whispered. “It’s easier if you don’t.” As Jack started to undress himself,  Adam felt like giving in—to the suit, to Jack—but then he pulled back, shaking his head. “No… we can’t let this happen. We have to stay in control. I’m not even gay man. You aren’t either.” 

“That’s not what your cock is saying though” Jack quickly responded as Adam looked down to see himself fully hard, his dick begging to be touched. Adam felt his urges quickly overtake him as he quickly turned Jack over and began eating his ass. Jack moaned in ecstasy as he felt Adams' warm tongue loosen his hole. Adam couldn’t wait any longer as he quickly got back up and slowly inserted his dick into Jack, soft and steady, as the pair equally enjoyed the sensation. Once fully inside, Adam began to create a steady back and forth rhythm as he glided his dick inside while both men grunted from the pleasure they were experiencing. The warmth of Jacks’ hole wrapped over Adam's cock like nothing he had ever felt before. “Faster Adam, and fuck me like you mean it.” Jack managed to let out. Without any hesitation Adam quickly picked up the speed and pulled Jack in for a kiss as they let out all the sexual tension that brewed between them. 

---

The two of them stepped out of the bathroom acting as though nothing happened, the party still in full swing around them. As they walked through the living room, they bumped into Nate and Kyle. But something was wrong—very wrong.

Nate, leaned lazily against the wall, his arm draped around Kyle. The two were closer than Adam had ever seen them—touching each other’s arms, whispering things that made them both laugh in ways that seemed... intimate.

Adam blinked. “Nate? Kyle?”

They turned, but their eyes were distant, their smiles strange. “Who?” Nate asked, his voice unfamiliar, detached. “Is that supposed to be us?”

Kyle chuckled, leaning in to whisper something into Nate’s ear. They both laughed softly, but it was eerie, unsettling.

“They’re gone,” Jack said, his voice low. “The suits… they’ve taken over.”

Adam’s stomach dropped. He wanted to say something, to pull his friends back to reality, but he could already see that they were too far gone. They had become the men whose bodies they wore. The real Nate and Kyle were slipping away, just as Adam had feared.

As the night wore on, partygoers started asking questions. “Hey, have you guys seen the boys? Did they ditch their own party or something?”

“We haven’t seen them at all tonight,” someone else added, scanning the room.

Adam felt a pang of horror as he realized the truth. The hosts were here—him, Jack, Nate, Kyle. But they weren’t themselves anymore. They were strangers now, completely absorbed by the lives of the men they’d become.

Then, as the clock struck midnight, a sudden chill swept through the house. Adam felt it deep in his bones—the suit tightening around him, melding with his skin in a way that felt permanent. He reached up, trying to find the seam near his neck, but they were gone. The suit was no longer something he could take off. It was part of him now.

He looked at Jack in panic, but Jack’s expression had changed—his smirk was gone, replaced by the cold, steely gaze of a soldier. Adam’s own memories were fading fast, slipping away with each passing second.

As midnight rang through the house, the cursed suits fully took them over. And just like that, Adam, Jack, Nate, and Kyle were no more.

They had become their new selves.

Forever.

[hunkpossession0]

Super Jack 💙💙💙

[hunkpossession0]

HE IS SO BREATHTAKINGLY BEAUTIFUL IM IN TEARS

[hunkpossession0]

Stole this body now I’m checking it out Gotta go jerk real quick 😌

Tell me in the comments if you want a full story