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[migue-gj]

More Than a Costume

It was supposed to be just a one-time gag. At least, that was what Jake told himself when he first bought the bodysuit. And maybe he did believe it at first. He’d buy the bodysuit, wear it, and show up at his friend’s costume party for cheap laughs. Jake was certainly the talk of the party when he showed up with an all-new identity. After all, who could’ve expected that the lanky white guy would come looking like a genuine Latino with tattoos and a goatee? The bodysuit was so realistic that people didn’t believe him when he said he was actually just Jake wearing a costume. It even earned him 1st place in the costume contest, too!

Once the costume party was over, Jake didn’t know what to do with the bodysuit. He couldn’t return it now that it was used, and after spending $100 on it, Jake didn’t feel right about just throwing it out after only wearing it once. So he decided it would just remain hanging at the back of his closet until the occasion called for it. But as time passed, Jake found himself wanting to wear it again. No matter what he did, his mind wandered back to the Latino bodysuit. It was almost like it was subliminally calling out for him, begging him to wear it again. Jake tried to resist its call, but then he gave into the temptation one night. 

Jake took out the bodysuit from the depths of his closet and held it in his hands. The rubbery suit felt cool against his fingertips. When he first bought the suit, Jake was shocked by how lifelike the synthetic skin looked and felt. Even after some time, he was still thoroughly impressed by it. 

Not wanting to waste any more time, Jake zipped down the zipper on the back of the bodysuit and stretched the opening wide. Jake stuck his leg down the leg of the costume then did the same with the other as he began to pull up the suit to his waist. The sensation of his flaccid dick slipping into the bodysuit’s much girthier cock made goosebumps run up his spine as the cold, rubbery skin touched and wrapped around his warm groin. A shivering moan escaped Jake’s lips as his junked settled into the bodysuit like a snug jockstrap cup. 

Jake was much skinnier than the bodysuit, making for a loose fit as he continued putting it on. He stuck his arms into the sleeves of the bodysuit. His thin fingers slipped into the suit’s burly hands. He brought the suit up to his shoulders, then threw the head of the costume over his face like a helmet. Jake bounced around with glee once he had the suit completely on. The suit hung loosely over his face, chest, and other spots around his body like baggy clothes. Although it was clearly much too big for his small body frame, Jake wasn’t worried. All it took was a few minutes for his body heat to “activate” the bodysuit and bring it to life. He took a deep breath as he felt the oversized bodysuit shift and adjust to his size until it was a perfect fit. What was once a cold, lifeless suit made out of synthetic skin transformed into a living, breathing person like any other once Jake put it on. So long as he kept his lips shut, nobody would ever be able to tell there was a white man controlling this synthetic Latino body. 

“Mmm… ¡mi nuevo cuerpo se siente magnífico!” Jake purred as he ran his forefinger through his scruffy facial. He massaged his neck as he spoke with his new, thick Puerto Rican accent. As someone with a relatively high-pitched voice and couldn’t grow anything beyond peach fuzz, Jake was jealous of other men who had the masculine features he always found attractive. 

He took a look at his handsome new face in the mirror and winked at himself. Jake felt right at home in his new skin and identity. As he donned the multiple piercings that came with his purchase before heading out for a night of fun as Rodrigo, Jake had no idea what putting on the bodysuit for a second time would do to his psyche. Bodysuits were addicting to wear. They made every physical sensation stronger, including and especially pleasure. That was a lesson that Jake would have to learn the hard way as he continued living as Rodrigo for days on end, refusing to take it off as he had fully convinced himself that he was always a Latino man and not some rubber bodysuit.

[migue-gj]

This is part of the Secret TF Writers Swap, a small "secret santa" event between writers organized by the lovely @alphajocklover.

Thank you very much for organizing it !

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To @fafnir19

You sat at your desk, readying yourself for yet another soul-sucking day of office work.

You may be writing loads of stories on the internet, of people growing in and out of wealth, of demons and creatures, and most of all of transformation, but back in the real world, everything feels so much more static. Yesterday’s problems are today’s problems, and today’s problems are tomorrow’s problems. A never-ending series of crisis after crisis, which somehow always swap roots yet never swap effects. You can at least consider yourself fortunate that your pay is comfortable enough so that you can weather these, even if it means having to look in the eyes of someone who has little, and answer their request for starting something greater in the negative.

But today, there seems to be some agitation in the office. A change in the routine. Something to bring you out of the intensive mundane and the boring busyness.

So you ask the colleague with which you share desk a part in today’s gossip, and what he answers may surprise you :

“Nathaniel Nostitz has come here ! I don’t know why he’s here, but I’m sure everyone wants to bag him !”

Now, as a banker, you do keep an eye on the important fortunes in your area, and the Nostitz family is one of them – if not the most important. You know that their family comes from Silesia, but that there was recently some family drama with his son, or at least that’s what the few articles of showbiz about him that some colleague forced you to read said. You don’t actually care, but you do know that such an important family coming to see a standard local bank is quite… unusual.

But you know to keep your head down and not cause unnecessary problems. You won’t be able to convince him to do anything with you, and he may be tempted to destroy your career if you’re too annoying. Therefore, you go back on working on your computer, some case of investment account or something. Boring, but safe.

That’s why you were surprised when, suddenly, you hear a deep sultry voice speaking right next to you.

“Greetings. I think I have a proposal that may interest you.”

You look up to suddenly see a middle-aged looking blonde man, impeccably dressed and styled, sporting a bit bushy beard.

Is he… actually Mr. Nostitz ? He looks quite a bit younger than you expected… and more attractive… but it may be due to him having access to all the best treatments money can pay, after all. However, as he looks right in your eyes, you suddenly understand that the proposal – a business proposal, you guess – was aimed at you.

“Oh, er…” You stumble, not having expected this turn of events. “Greetings to you too, sir… what is that proposal about ?”

He smiles when you call him ‘sir’. Somehow, this smile seems almost… predatory ? Of some kind ?

“I’d be willing to place some of my fortune in your care… therefore in the care of this bank, if you were willing to grant me a few... favors.” He smiles, trying his hardest to look innocent while he is, in effect, holding you hostage to your company’s expectations. - I… I’ll think about it, sir…” You answer evasively, taken by surprise. - Of course, of course !” He smiles, looking even more predatory and threatening than before. He gives you a black piece of cardboard paper. “Here’s my business card, for when you’ve taken your decision.”

On that not-so-subtle order to accept, he takes his leave, leaving you confused in-between the jealous and judgy eyes of your colleagues. And as expected, you’re immediately summoned by your boss. He urges you to accept without delay, promising you a share of the high profits that a share of the Nostitz fortune will bring the bank.

And the door if you dare refuse.

That’s why you’re now here, in front of this huge manor, as ready as you can manage to be to throw yourself in the lion’s den.

The manor is very big, and very beautiful. Its fine architecture betrays its age, which shows how entrenched the Nostitz familly is, around here. A butler welcomes you inside, and leads you up to Mr. Nostitz’s office, though not without ridding you of your coat. And as you stand in front of the old wooden ebony door, you gather your courage before knocking.

“Enter.” The low and sultry voice orders.

You follow suit, opening the door, and finding Mr. Nostitz reading some files on a well-organized desk, with only a suspicious brown mallet throwing the neatness off.

“Hello, Mr. Nostitz.” You start, but as you’re about to continue, he cuts you with his authoritative voice. - Greetings. So you’re here to discuss my… proposition, are you not ? - Y-yes, sir, I am.”

He puts his files down, and stands up, towards one of the racks on the wall, looking through binder after binder.

“You see… ever since my son decided that our wealth was… problematic, I had a little project in mind. And when I saw you, I knew you were the perfect candidate for it.”

Son leaving ? Wealth problematic ? You the perfect candidate ? … it seems like the family drama you desperately wanted to know as little as you could about comes back to bite you in the ass…

“I’m sorry sir, I-” You start backing off, but he cuts you once again, his mere presence silencing you. - I want to do a little experiment on you.” He says, having found the documents he was searching for, reaching for the mallet and opening it in front of your eyes. “These… potions, you may call them, have some effects that I want to study. And you’re the perfect man for it. - Sir, I’m sorry to say that, but I don’t know if I want to risk my health with an untested substance !” You start refusing, tampering it as much as you can. - Of course, your refusal is to be expected when presented with so few information.” Somehow, this felt like a jab at you. “However, I guarantee that it is safe, it has been tested on numerous animals, and it’s been proven to be safe for humans. Besides, the papers I brought out here make me liable for any disease related to this… treatment.”

At least he was thoughtful, and didn’t ask you to jump in with full faith. However, he does ask you to jump in blind, which is more problematic.

“And, this treatment…” You interject, finding an opening in the conversation. “What does it do ? - Ah, yes, a most important query.” He comments, yet again preventing you from going further in your thought. “Let’s just say that it may trigger a few… changes in your body. Most importantly, it will make you look younger.”

Changes ? Younger ? These are two keywords that draw your attention, as they usually belong to that other part of your life… You are quite a bit more excited than you should be, but the chance to experiment with at least part of one of your oldest dreams, one that felt like it could only ever belong to fiction, clouds your judgment.

Such was Mr. Nostitz’s plan.

“I… I’m interested.” You finally manage, feeling it’s safe and enviable enough to throw the remainder of your caution to the wind. - That’s perfect. Then, I’d ask you to sign those papers, please.”

You skimp over them quickly before signing, hopefully catching anything big that would be lying in the text, but you find none. Assuming that no surprises remained, you sign. On that, Mr. Nostitz smiles maliciously, yet again looking like a predator, before reaching in the mallet and drawing a small glass flask, half-filled by an opaque cyan liquid.

“Then we should start now, don’t you say ? Please drink this.” He orders with his deep, authoritative voice. - O-okay…”

You were not expecting to start this so soon, but you’re quite weak to the strength of his voice… So you drink it. It doesn’t taste good, a bit too salty to your taste, but it’s not that bad. You know foods that tasted a lot worse. As you feel it coursing down your esophagus, you start expecting some effects, standing in silence, looking discreetly at your skin. But this just makes Mr. Nostitz elegantly laugh.

“Are you expecting instantaneous results ? You should wait until tomorrow, at the very least !”

You blush of shame from this, before deciding to cut this meeting there, since the treatment has already been administered. But before you can properly address your salutations, he stops you :

“I’m sorry, but now isn’t the time to go. See, it’s already late, so you won’t be able to go back to work.” He is correct, it is 7PM already, but you don’t understand why he’s stopping you like that. - I’m sorry, sir, but I… should really go home.” You say with the utmost care, not wanting to appear rude. - My, don’t you know you that, during the duration of the experiment, you agreed to lodging here ?”

You freeze.

You didn’t know that. Was it written in the document you signed ? Did you not notice it ? You did skimp through it, but surely such a motion would have jumped to you… However, taken in surprise, you improvise, lying to try and save face.

“Y-yes, of course, but I… need to get some things from home ! I can’t stay here with only what I have on me !” Hopefully he will buy your excuse. - Don’t worry, we have everything necessary on hand here. It might not be what you’re used to, but… everyone needs a bit of luxury in their life, if you catch what I’m saying.” He snidely smiles to you. - I’ll… see what I can do with…” You admit defeat, though surrendering to luxury isn’t the hardest thing to do. - That’s great ! The butler will lead you to your room.”

On that, the butler opens the door, and urges you to follow him. He leads you through beautiful corridor after beautiful corridor, all stinking money, until you reach another door. Inside is a spacious bedroom suite, likely bigger than your first flat, even without including the bathroom. It looks quite a bit more modern than the rest of the house, but with no less old money woody tones.

The butler leaves you alone inside, where, immediately after putting down the few things you were still carrying, you rush to the bathroom. However, you’re disappointed when you look inside the mirror and… it’s still you on the other side. Well, you expect it to still be you, but still, not seeing any change does bum you down.

This taken care of, you look around the room to get a bit more familiar with it. If it’s where you’re going to stay in the near future, you’d want to know where to find things of interest.

You start by the bathroom, finding a lot of hygiene stuff, including products for the skin and for the hair, as well as multiple bottles of expensive cologne and, weirdly enough, condoms… that are too big for your dick. Great. You move to the closet, in which you find a wealth of clothes, all fitted to your size – though they’re a bit loose on you, not by much, but noticeable enough – as if Mr. Nostitz knew you’d come. However, you’re surprised by their diversity. While there of course are the dress shirts and suits you’d expect, as well as polos, sweaters and other preppy clothes, there’s also some more young – for lack of a better word – clothes like a collection of jackets, t-shirts and even tank tops.

You close the closet back up, thinking to yourself that you’d never need this much clothes, but that you appreciate the thought. Having barely closed that piece of furniture, the butler invites you for dinner. He leads you to a grand dinner room, outfitted with a long wooden table, on which only two places were set.

You take place in front of one, while Mr. Nostitz takes place on the other side. On that follows a floury of expensive dishes, served as if you were at a high-grade restaurant. While you ate each of the courses, you entertained a lively discussion with Mr. Nostitz about investment, and about how his money would be taken care of, now that it is in your care.

That is, after all, the primary reason of your stay. Even if it got eclipsed by another.

Once the meal was finished, Mr. Nostitz waved you goodbye, and the butler accompanied you to your room. You did as usual, preparing yourself for bed, changing into your nightwear, brushing your teeth and all that. But as you were doing that, you noticed that your hair looked a bit… brighter than usual ?

It must have been the lighting, you think to yourself as you fall to sleep in the giant and extremely comfortable bed.

You are woken up by the butler at an early hour, as he tells you that breakfast will be served before you go to work. Ah… yes, right, you forgot, with how comfy the bed was, that you weren’t in holidays. So you stretch a bit, but as you enter the bathroom, something doesn’t look right…

It takes you a moment before you manage to figure it out.

Your hair was now blonde ! And curly !

You look out to your bedroom, but the butler isn’t here, so you look back in the mirror. God, that hair looks so healthy… You pinch yourself a few times, before you decide that you’re actually in the real world, and that this is now your hair.

A bit confused, you look in the myriad of products, and see that all the products for the hair are made for wavy or curly hair… how fortunate… So, you put some in your hair, hoping that they will make the mess that you woke up with more dignified, before continuing your morning routine as you usually do.

However, now the fact that there actually was a transformation makes you all excited for whatever comes next. You’re actually living your fantasy ! The one you thought wasn’t impossible in the real world !

Jovial, you eat, and enter the limousine, before being dropped off in front of your bank. You’re so happy about all that that you don’t even register the fact that you’re coming to work in a limousine, and sporting a healthier, curlier and blonder hairstyle than you ever had in your life. Though your colleague don’t ignore that, as you do manage to overhear people gossiping about those very things, you… really couldn’t care less. It just felt quite unimportant, really, when compared to everything else.

The day of work was over pretty quickly, and before you could even worry about going back to the manor, you see the limousine that drove you to your bank stationed in front, disturbing traffic in the meantime. You’d usually feel a bit guilty of being the reason of other’s frustrations, but somehow, you’re so happy that you just don’t care. Yet again.

As you enter, greeted by the chauffeur, it even starts feeling a bit normal, how you’re greeted with the utmost deference, how you are given privileges, how people are waiting for you…

You shake your head. This state of affairs is temporary, do not get used to the luxury. In a week, you’ll be back to your usual grind.

Arrived at destination, you enter the manor, expecting to see Mr. Nostitz, but he is nowhere to be found. That’s weird, you haven’t seen him in the whole day… you were eager to show him the golden curls you acquired… You furrow your brow at your sudden thought, finding them a bit out of character until you remember that you’re in an experiment. Of course the one responsible for holding the experiment should keep a close look on their patient.

But here you are, on your bed, not having seen him anywhere. You had the time to explore the mansion further, to write part of your next story, and relax, yet when the butler called you to go eat, you still hadn’t seen him. Taking place at the table, you also noticed that there was only one place setting. None for the elusive master of this mansion.

Adding insult to injury, before the first course, the butler comes back with a small flask, of the same kind that you took yesterday, filled in half with yesterday’s opaque cyan liquid. You sigh of frustration and take it from the butler’s hand, a bit more aggressively than you wanted to, and drink it, before unleashing your growing anger at the poor employee :

“Why isn’t Mr. Nostitz here ? He should be eating with me ! - Sir, Mr. Nostitz’s schedule is very busy, you were fortunate to have been able to share a dinner with him yesterday.” Explains calmly the butler, as if he’s seen this kind of tantrums many times. - That’s… understandable…” You answer, starting to calm down.

You eat each subsequent course in silence, trying to understand the reason of your anger. It’s not as if you really cared about Mr. Nostitz… he hosts you and runs this experiment, but you have only known each others for two days, and it’s not like it was love at first sight… After finishing your meal, you come back to your room, hoping to have a quiet evening after that feat of anger.

And as such started to create a bit of a routine for yourself.

On the morning, you checked the mirror for any change, noticing that you got taller, younger, more muscular and handsomer – for lack of a better word. You then take breakfast, ride up the limousine to your bank, slog through a workday becoming progressively boring as the days go on, and get relieved to find the limousine waiting for you in front of the building. Coming back to the mansion, you drink the flask, and then come out of your shell more and more, watching TV on the huge one in the living room, playing the latest Fifa if the urge takes you, going for a walk in the big gardens or even working out in the private gym, that seemed suspiciously new. And before sleeping, you use a progressively bigger amount of beauty products, noticing the odd few additional changes like your dick enlarging or your eyes taking on a blue color.

This life is becoming progressively comfier – not that it was painful by any means – and you feel more and more at home in the giant, faceless manor that you inhabit. Having a butler take care of you, being driven by a limousine, eating the finest foods, wearing the finest silk… all that luxury is starting to become second nature. The week flew by, and it was already time for the weekend. The last days of your experiment, the last days of a luxury that you will surely miss. And all that, without even having caught a glimpse of Mr. Nostitz.

You are now basically unrecognizable from the tired banker that came in this mansion. Now a handsome young man with blonde curls, all the fancy clothes that were bought for you fit like a glove thanks to the new muscles. As you take a last photo in front of the estate’s forest, you wonder if you should try opening an Instagram account. After all, your good looks aren’t going away, and work is just getting so boring...

But suddenly, your butler asks you to come urgently. Nonchalantly, you follow him to the mansion, where there seem to be a lot more people than usual. Is there a party of some kind happening ? You stroll in, finding Mr. Nostitz at the center of a small crowd. Finally ! He is here ! He will finally be able to see what you became !

So you hurry in his direction, drawing the ire of some of the guests. But you don’t actually care, they shouldn’t have been in your way in the first place. You are now in hearing distance from the architect of your experiment, but as you’re about to make yourself known to him, his voice overpowers you. However, it isn’t addressed to you, but rather at a guest.

“Cassandra, why must you raise this issue in a day of rejoicing !” As he told that, he looked briefly at you, noticing your presence. - Nathaniel, you cannot continue this charade ! Leandra has long passed, and even your own son agrees that you can’t continue claiming the fortune ! You are not part of our family anymore !” A well-dressed woman – Cassandra, you assume – with long curly dirty blonde hair insisted, angrily. - This son of mine isn’t able to manage our fortune, you can at least agree with me on that. Besides, I was married to Leandra, my beloved, so you know the implications. - Quit trying to act as if you’re part of our kin. We will need to see you in court, if you do not heed this last warning !” She said ominously, although it only drew Mr. Nostitz’s smile. An evil and predatory smile, as always. - If you’re talking like that… then I assume you are not acquainted with her second son.”

Second son ? You thought he only had one ! … and clearly, so did the rest of the room, who fell silent, looking at Mr. Nostitz with incredulity.

“Stop inventing excuses. If Leandra had another son, I would have been aware ! - Well, in this case, we may make introductions !”

He suddenly strides towards you, grabbing you by the arm, and as you stand there incredulous, he announces :

“I present to you my son. Leandra’s second son, and my second son. The true heir of the Nostitz family.”

A gasp of shock sleeps through the entire room, which would have included you if Mr. Nostitz hadn’t squeezed your arm at the right moment. Just what is he playing at ! Last you checked, you remember your parents, and none of them seem to belong to the Nostitz family that stands here, and you’re quite sure that Mr. Nostitz is in no way your father.

Yet, after the initial shock and denials, you hear people in attendance starting to notice similarities between you and your supposed parents. Some point out the curls like Leandra, or the blonde like Mr. Nostitz, some say your face looks like one member of the family or another, and other say you stature reminds them of Mr. Nostitz.

Out of them all, Cassandra, although she was just as shocked as the others, if not more, was the first to speak out against this assertions.

“This… is ridiculous ! You can’t just invent a new son to keep a hold of the money ! - I’m not inventing anyone. He was just… raised in another family to prevent him from being corrupted like his older brother. - This is pure and utter nonsense ! I require proof ! Irrefutable proof that he is your son, and Leandra’s son ! - All in due time, I knew you would react like that, so I prepared all the necessary prerequisites to make a paternity test. I wanted to present him to you all to continue this process.” Suddenly, he looks at you in the eyes. “Of course, my son will be enchanted to cooperate in your quest for proof, isn’t he ?”

His look was a dare. A dare to start living a life in a lie. A dare to continue living in the mansion you inhabit. Although he neglected you during your whole stay, although you have a life outside this mansion, although you have actual parents and family, you… can’t seem to be able to refuse his request.

Is it the luxury that drew you in ? Or the transformation, making you become a whole new person altogether ? Or is it Mr. Nostitz’s authority that you don’t want to defy ? Whatever the actual reason, you smirk, and cannot help but say, in the most proud and obnoxious voice that you have :

“Yes, of course, father.”

You pose, as your butler takes a picture in front of your vineyards.

You are dressed in an expensive shirt, with a luxury watch and obnoxious Gucci sunglasses. And you wouldn’t expect any less than this display of wealth. Because even though you don’t actually run those yards, your father being the one to generate all the wealth that you benefit from, you still own them. You also own a lot of other things, noteworthy between all these possessions being the Nostitz mansion.

However, now, you don’t work a day in your life. You quit you banker job as soon as the DNA test results came in, showing that you were indeed the son of Nathaniel Nostitz and Leandra Nostitz, as this life wasn’t yours anymore. Rather, you now spend your time on Instagram, modeling and throwing party after party with your new famous or otherwise wealthy friends. These activities let you earn a surprising amount of money, although it is just a drop in the ocean of all your wealth.

But you know that you are only a puppet, living a life of hedonism while your father cultivates power on your back, created with the only aim of holding on to a fortune. And you couldn’t care less. Hedonism is fun, once you give in, and it makes you happier than you have ever been. If the price for that is any sense of life achievement… then you are more than willing to pay it all.

Besides, it’s not as if you could actually say no to your beloved father.

[migue-gj]

Listen Up: All-American

--- Originally posted on 2021-04-07 by newyoutf ---

Oliver was stressed. The rent on his cramped London studio was a lot, and he couldn’t work enough to cover his costs while completing his studies. His work toward a law degree produced enough mental anguish on its own.

He’d seen the mindfulness CD atop a pile of various used items at an odd store - which seemed to stock all manner of things new, used and downright weird.

For obvious reasons, the record was alluring to Oliver. Anything that might lower the mental burden was an option worth trying. So when the handsome proprietor offered him the disc for less than a quid he couldn’t say no.

The drive buzzed on his desk as the contents were ripped to his computer after a late, stressful night of study. Oliver sat back in his desk chair placed the wireless headphones over his mousy brown hair and opened the resulting file that appeared on his desktop.

“Welcome. This audio program is custom designed. Just for you…”, a deep, manly voice read. Custom designed? The words made Oliver raise an eyebrow in suspicion. “What a load of bullshit", he thought.

“Ensure you are in a comfortable, private place. You will not want to be disturbed… You feel calm. Tranquility and stillness.”

The deep, commanding - and almost erotic voice - continued onward. Suddenly, Oliver felt awash with relaxation.

“Relax, close your eyes, and take a deep breath. Focus your concentration on your top of your head, moving down slowly down the tips of your toes. Take in your body.”

Oliver unwittingly obeyed. His eyes shut and, taking a deep breath, he focused on the position of his body in space.

“This… actually isn’t too bad”, he admitted to himself.

“Empty your mind. Focus on the tingling across your skin. A pleasant warmth filling you up.”

Oliver was less impressed about the direction this was going now, was this going to turn into some erotic thing? But, suddenly, he did fill awash with warmth and tingling. Like a hot bath. He was surprised, no calmness app or anything similar had ever achieved this effect with him.

“Focus harder on that warmth and tingle. Make it stronger.”

Oliver sighed, feeling the pleasant sensations fill him up entirely.

“Stronger. Stronger. Stronger.”

The sensations intensified more and more; and although he felt good all over, in his head he began to panic. And so, he fumbled to stop the playback.

*“Keep listening, Oliver. I guarantee you’ll like what you’re going to *hear.”

Oliver’s eyes widened in fear, did the voice just use his name? Was it aware he tried to stop the playback? Surely this was just a co-incidence in the script?

But Oliver realized it was no coincidence when he became unable to click pause, his finger repelling like a magnet from the trackpad.

“You’re gonna to become a real man, Oliver. Like you’ve always wanted. And you’re gonna enjoy it.”

“Ungh… What the f- fuck?!”, Oliver whimpered. The unbearable heat and tingling sensations intensified. Whimpers turned to loud moans as pleasure and testosterone flooded his body, his cock filled with blood and hardened in his tight jeans.

“A real man has huge, muscular arms. Much like you do, Oliver.”

Oliver let out a groan as his upper arms began to match the spoken words and expand. His slim t-shirt’s sleeves strained as muscles began to appear under the skinny arms. They throbbed and wriggled, expanding larger and larger, thicker and thicker.

“Your arms are fucking huge. Every part of them.”

Oliver bit his lip and whimpered as he flexed. The thin twigs that were his upper arms surged and tore the sleeves of the shirt. Individual muscles squirmed and bulged as they reformed large and powerful. His forearms pulsed and ached as they too inflated with muscle. Veins protruded and snaked across the swelling muscle. These arms were huge, muscular machines designed for the gym.

“You’re tall…”

Energy rushed through his body in response to the words, but technically Oliver had always been a relatively tall and lanky 6′0″. So, nothing happened. It was if the recording was teasing him.

“P- please… more…”, Oliver begged. Resisting was never an option to begin with, but Oliver needed no orders to desire what was happening to him. His new arms were a taste of the masculinity he’d always desired, and it felt better than he could have imagined.

“...Really tall…”

“Oh fuuuuuuck yeeeeaaah!”, Oliver yelled. His cock throbbed in his denim while his entire body seared with the bliss of growth. His back pushed up higher and his legs stretched longer out from the chair. The muscular arms elongated as well to keep up, more muscle packing in order to to maintain their size.

“How do you manage to type on this thing with those massive paws?”

“Ahhhh shiiiiiiiiiiiiit!”, cracks and pops filled the air as Oliver held out his aching, pulsating hands. His skinny fingers twitched vigorously as they pushed longer and thicker. His palms were being tugged in all directions, stretching further and further outward. The ends of his fingers creaked as they reshaped, the chewed nails regrowing, broadening and elongating. These were indeed a real man’s hands.

“Your chest is fucking ripped. Powerful pecs. Bulging abs. Manly hair.”

Oliver bit down hard. But as his chest and shoulders swelled in every direction, he couldn’t hold it and let out a long whine. Muscle wrapped around the widening shoulders connecting with the stunning biceps. Growth flowed downward, forcing two huge slabs of muscle to grow out of his flat, bony chest. The tightest abs Oliver had ever seen exploded out from below his thick, tight pecs. His cock pulsed as he rubbed the rippling abs. He could feel a treasure trail forming and hair flourishing across the beautiful pecs. His cock tingled as his waist pulsed. Tight cum gutters formed below the glistening abs, leading down to his aching erection.

“Don’t forget your back.”

Oliver hunched forward as the muscle growth swept from his massive shoulders and chest across his back. His bony back rippled and bulged as sinew and muscle swelled.

“Everything about your legs screams power and masculinity. With an ass to match.”

Oliver’s kicked and twisted his legs feeling his thighs balloon with new and growing muscle. The skinny jeans began tearing and splitting at the seams as more and more muscle forced its way outward. His calves did the same, stuffing themselves with more and more power, stretching the fabric to breaking to point. Every muscle in his legs contracted as it swelled and grew. Oliver flexed the legs causing a final burst of growth and shredded the tattered jeans and underwear from his body. His flat ass, now free from its confines, began to inflate dramatically, pushing him upward in his seat.

*“Size 13s must be hard to find…”**

He clenched his mouth shut, muffling a cry as snaps and crackles emanated from the socked feet. His fairly average UK size 9s burned with pressure as the socks began to stretch in an attempt to contain the growing feet. Oliver pressed his feet hard into the floor feeling the soles soaring across the carpet. The toes curled and gripped further and further, lengthening and thickening into 10s, then 11s, 12s… The sound of a tear was met with a moan as unbelievably long, thick, masculine toes jutted through the ends of the socks leaving him with UK size 13s.

“You’re such a looker, Olly.”

Oliver knew what this meant and trembled as he opened the webcam app on his laptop, watching in shock and pure desire at the image of his face moving and shifting. His neck bulged and swelled, the grunts coming from his throat deepening.

His narrow, oval face stretched and snapped wider and longer, enlarging to fit the upper body he now possessed. Oliver rubbed his hard cock as his face began to look more and more masculine. A wide, thick jaw formed where before there was barely one at all. His lips inflated, his nose enlarged and his brow deepened. His hair darkened as it grew out, straightened and flopped messily across the headphones.

“I look… ungh… like a jock!”, Oliver gawked, turned on by his unbelievably hot new visage.

As he muttered those words he gasped repeatedly. Insatiable lust overtook him at watching his gorgeous, masculine face moan. His rigid erection ached and drooled at the sight.

“That cock is just like the rest of you. Oversized.”

Oliver stumbled upright and planted his hands on the desk and began to thrust across the table top as the 5 inch cock commenced its expansion. The continuous ecstasy that had been tearing through him since this started concentrated into his swelling dick.

Oliver’s screams of delight could have woken the dead. He bucked and thrust violently, shaking the desk as the rock hard rod swelled with girth and pushed outward longer and longer.

“You’re a real fuckin’ man. That cock’s designed for topping.”

Thoughts of working out, sports and fucking tight jock asses overwrote the introverted bottom’s personality.

“Not just a real man. You’re an all-American jock.”

Oliver spluttered as his British accent shifted to a distinctly American one. Memories of coming to London for exchange replaced his own. With a blinding flash of ecstasy, his foreskin merged with the now 7 inch shaft, giving Oliver the big, cut, all-American cock he’d always admired.

“Mmmmmphhh… Fuck, yeah dude! I’m… arrruuughh… a fuckin’ jock!”

The shaft surged longer and wider. The head of the oozing cock fattened, expanded and flared outward. A massive, drooling mushroom head formed at the end of the 8 inch dick.

The sweating, horny jock was but a second away from release, worshiping his own body and tightly, furiously stroking his cock. But the audio interrupted…

“I bet those 10 inches are popular online.”

Oliver howled as his encroaching orgasm was prevented. The blissful build up rushed back into his cock as it shot forward in seconds to an enormous, veiny 10 inches. He recalled making good money selling pictures and videos of his hot body and huge dick.

The stud gripped his thick python tight in his meaty hand and stroked fast. The voice on the audio track began to tease Oliver even more than it had been.

“You’re a real man.”

“Huhhh… unnnghhh.. yeah… I am!”

“You’re a fucking alpha.”

“Hnnnnggghh, fuck yeah!”

“Cum, stud.”

With a delightful roar, the beautiful, cut pole shot cum like a hose across his the desk, the wall and over the floor. Then again. And again. And after what felt like an eternity, the muscle stud’s orgasms slowed.

“Remember to share this recording with your friends…”

And on that command, the track ended. Oliver grabbed his phone, his huge hands dwarfing the device as he snapped a photo of his cock and incredible body to post later for his adoring online fans.

Now all the jockified Oliver needed was bros - and with the audiobook he knew exactly how to get them. But who to share it with first? Old friends, a few dedicated online fans maybe...

[migue-gj]

Paul, may I know what's wrong with you? You've been acting strange all day, and mom and dad are worried, and honestly so am I. And stop posing like that in the mirror for once

Sorry little brother, these biceps need to show off. Also, it doesn't seem to me that I'm acting differently, I'm the same Paul as always.

You're kidding? Paul, you've been showing off your muscles all day, you touched the waitress's ass in the cafeteria this morning and then you fucked her in the bathroom. I have to remind you that by doing that you have also cheated on Alice.

What can I say, it's a shame not to show off these muscles, you should too, after all your body is like this. And about Alice, well, I don't think I'm a one-woman man if you know what I mean.

(Paul pulls out a cigarette from who knows where and starts smoking.)

Dude, are you smoking? For God's sake, it's clear that you've gone crazy.

Relax, bruh. It's just a cigarette. Come with me to the mall, I have to do some shopping......

--------------------------------------------------

Man, I'm telling you right away that cutting your hair was a bad idea, mom and dad will be mad, and besides that kind of haircut doesn't suit you, you look like a different person. And it doesn't help that you buy the tightest thing you can find in the store.

Come on man, it's just a little style change. But if you're going to keep touching my balls, you can go home.

Come on Paul, don't be like that, this is just so weird.

............

Paul could do nothing but scream in the back of his mind, not strong enough to fight off his invader, an escaped criminal looking for a place to hide. For him it was a stroke of luck to find Paul's bedroom window open that night, and even luckier when Paul's body was too tired from training to fight the possession. Of course this was a hiding place

.

.

.

Second part

[migue-gj]

Cap or no cap

Charles looked at you being right next to him. He was naked, with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Even now in your transformed state, you could see how beautiful he was. His lean body reflecting the sun. His beautiful nipples. His boyish face with that cute stubble.

What he didn't know that he was now touching your whole body. Of course he didn't see your normal form. What he saw was his cap that he wore everytime he was racing. But he was sure he left it on the shore

He grabbed you. Turned you over to make sure it was really his. He put it over his head.

Fuck yeah. That was all you needed. Just a touch and you would slowly get to transform into him. And what about him? Well. He's gonna know what it's like to be a cap for a little while.

As you felt the changes happening, you could see his skin turning black and red. He didn't notice anything yet. He was scrolling on Tiktok and not caring about anything around him.

All the hair from his body were moving over to you. The furry carpet also didn't trigger his attention.

You thought that by now he would have noticed, but he didn't even feel his dick moving over to his cap. Now placed on top of the cap, pre-cum dripping from it.

His skin was all over you. Covered with hair. His legs started to shrink. Soon he was just a torso with arms and a head.

Now was the moment he noticed. He really did, but his face moved over to you. You were now expanding in size as all the limbs were getting connected to your cap body, now more human than Charles's body.

Charles was shrinking. His head was the last remaining part of him. Now flattening and turnung into the cap that you were resembling before.

You opened your new eyes. You felt something under you as if you were sitting on something. You pulled it out and it was the cap. Only after that you now noticed your sexy abdominals, your hairy arms, your toned body. And after that, you looked into the phone camera.

Hell yeah. It worked. You were now Charles Leclerc

You looked at the cap in your hand. "Sorry, can't risk it." You said as you threw the cap into the sea

"I hope the sea will sink it or take it far away"

You kept looking at the spot where you threw the cap, not seeing it anymore

One of his friends was observing you. "Why are you suddenly so happy? You looked as if you wanted to murder us this morning and now your are a walking sunshine"

You sat outside, playing with phone in your hand and admired your tight muscles with your left hand, fighting the urge to put it inside his shorts and play with your new dick.

"I'm just... Happy to be me. I have a great life. That's all I need"

2 weeks later

The big race was on. You were talking to the reporters, taking photos with fans and waving to those who were cheering for you.

But something wasn't right. Oh yeah, you were missing your cap. It's a shame that it has been lost on the sea. Hopefully you'll get a new one very soon 😈

Inbox request:

Could you transform me into Charles Leclerc. I just love his body.

[migue-gj]

Like OMG hunty! This is like totes, such a fun little site you have here. Apps, charms, and all that like. So here is like the stitch bitch, I’m this super swishy liberal queen but like I’m also an actor. And I’m up for this part and like I totes don’t know why my agent even thought of it for me. He’s this super conservative, awful straight douche. Like totally obnoxious. Crude. Belittles women and guys like me. And like I said super conservative. And I was wondering like omg, this is silly but is there anyway you could make me fit the part?

I’m glad you like my work, though I’m a little offended at how you put it. Calling it ‘a fun little site’ makes me worry you might not be taking what you’re getting into very seriously. Being transformed is incredibly serious business. You’ll be giving up your identity, or at least a large part of it, to become someone else. And even the safest ways of doing transformations can go horribly wrong. Taking on that risk for a movie role… either you’re a fool, or an incredibly dedicated actor. Possibly both. I’m going to assume it’s just the latter for my own conscience, and because if that really is the case… I’m actually pretty impressed. To go as far as to use unnatural means to alter your body and mind so you can better fit a role… it speaks to a passion for your work that most people never find. So even though I’m still a little offended… I’ll help you. More than that, I’m going to make you one of the greatest actors of all time. This isn’t going to be an easy task. I know you specifically asked for help fitting into this one role, but if you’re going to become a truly great actor, you’re going to need range. Playing only straight douchebags will only get you so far. You’re going to need to be able to change to fit whatever role you’re playing, which means an ongoing transformation. Those aren’t very easy to pull off. There are ways to do it, but my work isn’t sophisticated enough to do those. I’m a decent TF reporter, but actually doing TFs is still fairly new for me. A spell could work, but it would take much more magic than I have. I’m not even sure a talented wizard could pull off a spell like that without a coven to back them up. My next option would be nanobots or something, like the kind the Douchebag Revolution uses. But I’d have to get some from the revolution, and then reprogram them… and I’m not exactly an expert programmer. Programming is hard enough, but programming nanobots? Magically charged nanobots? Yeah that's not happening. I could always ask my Uncle’s friend Nick, the devil I’ve mentioned before, since his magic can do some truly incredible and complicated things, but for something this big he’d definitely want your soul. Even the wishing supernova might not work, as wishes this complicated are incredibly hard to pull off right. None of the other methods I’ve mentioned before would work well either… so if we’re going to pull this off, we’ll have to use something different. Something new. Something like… A potions set! Now, that probably sounds a little strange. I mean, considering how complicated I just told you this transformation will be to pull off, making it work with some magic cocktail probably sounds crazy. The thing is I’m not giving you one potion. I’m giving you dozens of them. In the box you’ve just received are a large amount of potions, each one set to transform you into a different movie cliche. We’ve got one that will make you into a hardboiled detective, one that will turn you into a sports star, and even one that will make you into a superhero. And those are only some of them. Take a potion that's the closest to the role you want to get, and for the next 24 hours you’ll have the personality of that person, all while still remembering your true self. With this, you will literally be the perfect method actor! And with a little extra magic, people won’t even realize you’re doing it. They’ll just think you’re a great actor! With the set of potions I’ve given you, some hard work, and a bit of deception, you just might be the greatest actor to ever live. And when you’re not playing a role, you can always have some fun with the potions in your regular life. Why don’t you try one now? This one looks interesting. ‘The Action Hero’.

Ok… wow. That worked really well. I wasn’t sure it’d be this effective but I guess I’ve got a knack for potion making! I’m glad you like your new body so much. I would too honestly, look at those pecs! And the personality transformation aspect seems to be working well too, considering the hint of superiority in your smirk and how you can’t keep your eyes off the delivery woman's tits. Enjoy being a straight, douchebag action hero. And if you ever need a potion refill or anything specific, just let me know. Now stop flirting with that girl and get going, you’re going to miss your audition!

**I'll admit, I think this one might have gotten a little bit away from me. I've been thinking about potions a lot lately, and the idea of an actor literally transforming to fit a role really excited me. I know the person who sent this probably wanted a bigger focus on the douchebag part of the TF, but I got so excited by the idea. I hope you still like it, and feel free to send in another on**

[migue-gj]

Maxi Von Matterhorn

Explore the archives

[migue-gj]

As I settled into the driver’s seat, I couldn’t help but marvel at the sensation of being in his body. My gaze caught the reflection in the rearview mirror, and damn—Mateo was a sexy motherfucker. A smirk tugged at his lips, natural for him, but the awe behind it was all me, the one now in control. I shifted slightly, feeling the muscles in my—well, Mateo’s—chest tighten, still buzzing from the workout.

“Shit these are nice,” I muttered, testing out this new voice, hearing that laid-back, confident tone. It had a casual swagger to it, almost like he was used to talking this way, smooth and cocky. I gave a small flex, watching Mateo’s pecs bounce in the mirror. Damn, that felt good. I couldn’t resist; I flexed again, harder this time, and his chest swelled, rising with each bounce. “Look at that… fuckin’ unreal.” My fingers slid over his damp skin, feeling the solid pump, the heat from the gym still radiating through his body.

The scent hit me then—sweat, body wash, and that earthy, musky smell that clung to him after the workout. It was strong, and hell, I liked it.

“U-u-ungghhh, fuckkkk,” I moaned, not even trying to hide how much I was feeling it, inhaling deeply, letting that raw, masculine scent fill my lungs. It hit me in a way that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Damn, you smell so good, bro,” I muttered through Mateo’s lips, as I made him hungrily look at his own reflection. I admired the sharp jawline, the messy curls that somehow looked perfectly styled, and my chest tightened as I took him in again.

“F-fuckkk,” I whispered, almost like the smell alone was doing things to me. Shit, I’d stay in this body all day if I could. I flexed again, his pecs bouncing in the mirror, and I let out a low, satisfied grunt.

I let my hand wander over his chest, fingers tracing the firm muscles. Mateo’s pecs felt solid under my touch, but the skin was smooth, a little slick from the heat. I gave them a squeeze, feeling the weight of them, letting my thumb graze over the soft hair there.

“Yeah, I can see why you like all this hard work” I made him tauntingly say as if he was talking to me. My eyes locked on his reflection as I worked my fingers over his chest, feeling the muscles flex just under the surface.

“Ungghhh… hell yeah, this feels so good,” I groaned through his lips, grinning as I tested out that laid-back, playful voice again. I flexed again, watching his pecs bounce in the mirror, unable to hold back.

“Shit, look at these fuckin’ things,” I muttered, squeezing them with both hands, feeling their heavy, solid weight. “You got some fuckin’ monsters on your chest, bro,” I groaned, smirking at how it sounded, amused by how casually cocky it felt. I pushed his chest out, flexing harder.

“YEAH, look at my big-ass meaty titties" I moaned breathlessly, my fingers tracing every curve of his pecs.

“UNGHHH f-ff-fuuuckk” I groaned again teasing his nipples while enjoying the lazy, confident sound of his voice. His reflection looked back at me, cocky and in heat. It was hot, watching Mateo’s face twist in pleasure, knowing I'm the one causing his own body to get hard for himself. His jaw tight, lips slightly parted, the groans slipping out effortlessly. I gave a little grin, loving how I could make his body respond under my control.

I raised his- my eyebrow at myself while flashing a toothy grin and giving his pecs another pop. Yeah, I thought, I could do this all day.

[migue-gj]

The Elevator Encounters

Oliver sighed as he stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the top floor to his small appartment. It was late, and he was exhausted after the long work day he just had. As the elevator slowly made it's way up, he leaned against the wall and looked at his important work e-mails.

The elevator dinged at the first floor, he looked up.

The doors slid open, and in walked two figures, ones that Oliver specifically didn't want to share the elevator ride with - Young jocks. They were obviously going back from the gym, based on their clothes and the sweat gleaming off their muscular bodies, making the air filled with an overpowering scent of sweat, musk, and overall unpleasant raw masculinity. They grinned at him, but there was something off about their smiles, apart from the fact that they had yellowish teeth.

“Hey man, looking a little scrawny there,” one of them said with a chuckle, stepping closer.

Before Oliver could think about responding, the jock who made the highschool bully-like comment placed his hand on his shoulder, sending a shock through his body. His mind paused as his muscles tensed. He tried to speak, but his thoughts were suddenly slow, his words stumbling as the jock's voice seemed to echo in his head, while the funk coming from them was hypnotizing him more and more.

“You need to bulk up, bro,” the other one added, his deep voice reverberating through the small space.

As the jocks stared into his eyes, he felt his body waking up as his muscles weirdly tightened. His arms felt bigger, but not excessively huge as they swelled beneath his shirt and his biceps thickened. Oliver tried to fight it, to escape, but all he could do was watch as his veins pushed to the surface. His shoulders broadened, and his chest started to push outward, straining against the fabric of his shirt. His muscles grew in a lean/jock way, but not in a bodybuilder way.

“Yeah, that’s it… bigger, hotter,” the first jock whispered in his ear, his eyes locked onto the reflection in the mirror, watching his body slowly grow and change.

He couldn’t think— his mind was so slow and foggy, and all he could hear was the jocks’ voices, urging him to grow, to get bigger, to become more like them. His thoughts felt slower, dumber, but he didn’t care, he was becoming too stupid to care.

The elevator dinged again.

The doors opened to reveal another jock, less muscular than the last two but more defined and "twunk" like, He squeezed into the elevator with a smirk, his eyes immediately locking onto Oliver.

“Looks like you could use some help. You wanna be a fuckboy, right?” the new jock asked, his voice a low growl.

He nodded, unable to resist. He never signed up for this, or wanted it at all, but his body was already halfway through the transformation, and there was more to come.

“Good… real good. Let’s make you the fuckboy you were meant to be,” the jock said as his hand slid down to his neck.

The moment he touched his throat, his voice deepened, becoming more teenager ish but more commanding. He felt a surge of power wash over him, his thoughts slowing even further, reduced to slow, dumb and primal instincts. The scent of the jocks—raw, sweaty, alpha— kept filling his nose, clouding his mind even more.

The elevator stopped again.

Another jock, covered in a sheen of sweat, stepped in - his body radiating heat and power. He leaned against the elevator wall, smirking as he looked him up and down.

“Smell that, bro? That’s what a real man smells like,” he said, flexing his defined but lean biceps. “Let’s see if you can smell good like us.”

Oliver felt a weird sensation as his skin, already slick with sweat from his previous interactions, began to emit a stronger, smellier funk. But unlike the overwhelming, vomit-worthy stench he feared, it was more subtle—masculine and intense, and thankfully not unbearable. It lingered in the air, radiating from his body, especially from his pits, feet, and his butt. He noticed a hint of funk rising from his feet, which now felt way larger and heavier in his shoes. His armpits felt sticky with sweat, the hair becoming bushier, and his body gave off a natural stink that fit the dumb fuckboy he was turning into.

He could feel the sweat from his entire body drooling in his pits and lower back, as the ripe odor made itself known more and more. Occasionally, a deep rumble in his gut hinted at something else—an urge to release a primal, manly dominating stink from within. He felt the pressure but didn’t care, he released it, and felt the ripe air escaping his butt as his fart filled the elevator, making the other jocks proud of who Oliver became.

The jocks had finished their jobs and left the elevator, only 2 floors were left.

The elevator dinged once again

The doors opened to reveal a new group entering. This time, it wasn’t jocks. Three twinks stepped inside, their eyes fixing onto Oliver. They were all cute, 18 to 20 year olds and their slim physiques were as perfect as you'd imagine. As they entered, the air shifted. Their presence and vibe was different—calmer, cooler, but with a predatory edge of their own.

One of the twinks leaned in close, his perfect fingers brushing against Oliver’s chest. "You’re hot," he purred, "but we’re going to make sure you’re hot everywhere, babe."

Before Oliver could respond, one of the twinks bowed down in front of him, his fingers trailing along his thighs as he felt a sudden jolt in his lower half. His pants tightened, but this time not from muscle—his package was swelling, pressing hard against the fabric. He groaned, the sensation almost overwhelming, as his manhood shifted, growing thicker but not longer, it was becoming shorter. His dick ending at a short 3.9 inches, but very thick and veiny. The twink stood up, satisfied, brushing his fingers along Oliver’s bulge slowly while smirking.

"Now you’re packing like a real stud," he whispered with a smirk.

Another twink, standing behind him, traced his hand along Oliver’s broad back before settling on his rear. With a teasing squeeze, he murmured, “Let’s give you something that really stands out.”

Oliver gasped as his backside started to change. His ass filled out, growing firm and round, pushing against the tight fabric of his pants. His hips widened slightly, giving him a more defined, powerful stance. He could feel the weight of his new, perfectly sculpted butt, the kind that drew attention wherever he went.

The third twink, stepped in front of him. "But that face..." he said, lifting a hand to Oliver’s chiseled jawline, "it needs to be flawless. Let’s make you like, a real pretty boy."

As the twink’s fingers brushed against his face, Oliver’s features started to shift. His cheekbones lifted slightly, giving him a more youthful, angular look. His skin smoothed out, free of any imperfections. His lips plumped slightly, taking on a fuller, more kissable shape, while his eyes brightened, becoming sharper and more striking. He could feel his whole face rearranging into something undeniably hot, almost model-like, with a perfect mix of masculinity and beauty.

The twinks stepped back to admire their work. “Not done yet,” one of them murmured, reaching up to run his hand through Oliver’s hair. His curls were wild and unkempt from the transformation so far, but that was about to change. With a snap of his fingers, the twink adjusted Oliver’s hair, turning it into a sleek, styled cut that framed his new face perfectly. His hair shortened and cleaned up, still curly but with a deliberately messy yet stylish look, the kind that took no effort but looked flawless.

“Now you’re perfect,” the first twink said, admiring him from head to toe. Oliver glanced into the elevator’s mirror. His reflection was nearly unrecognizable—a mix of power, beauty, and primal masculinity. His muscles were large, but his proportions were refined. His face was sharp and stunning. His package strained against his pants, his ass round, firm and rock hard to the touch.

As the elevator continued to climb, the twinks circled him like vultures, admiring their creation. He was a masterpiece of both raw, primal strength and irresistible beauty—a perfect alpha, but with a twinkish touch of aesthetic perfection.

Oliver could barely think. His thoughts were slow and clouded, reduced to basic, primal urges. All he could feel was the overwhelming power coursing through his body, mixed with the vain satisfaction of his perfect looks. He flexed in the mirror, grinning dumbly as the elevator stopped, one last time.

The twinks left the elevator with Oliver, all going to his apartment for a little 'test drive'.

[migue-gj]

Revenge possession, part 2

"So what is this game called again?" I asked out loud with Devon's voice.

Devon in the back of our mind:"Dead by daylight. You play either as a survivor or the killer. Depending on the role you have to escape or kill all the survivors."

I chuckled a bit:"You don't see how that's ironic?"

Devon was silent. "I'm so sorry, man. Jesus, I didn't think this through. Haha. Well... you should be good in this game right?"

Me:"Not really. I kinda didn't even know I was being hunted. Your parents just picked me up and then tortured me in the woods. I didn't have much of a chance to even run."

Devon:"Oh... I'm so sorry for that, man. My parents are horrible people."

Me:"Yeah. And I know they killed much more people than just me. That's why it needs to stop"

Devon:"So are you sure that killing them would be the best revenge for all these years of their murder spree?"

Me:"What else can I do? It's not like I had much of a choice. Few days ago I didn't even have a body. Now I co-share yours. Yeah, stealing their sons body is good revenge too, but you're a good person. And I don't want to take over your life."

Devon:"Not what I was aiming for. I honestly love having you here with me. You're like a second voice/brother/best friend inside of me. Oh shit. I just figured. I keep calling you bro. What's your real name?"

Me:"Paul. Took you long to ask, man. Not cool"

Devon:"Sorry, haha. So... Paul. You're like 40 now, right?"

Me:"I would be if your parents didn't kill me. But I died when I was 21 like you are now. So my mind basically stayed 21 I suppose. Except for roaming the country I didn't have much fun through all these years. These past few days as you, just chilling here, playing video games, jerking off and talking to you is the most fun I had over these 20 years."

Devon took control over his body to let go of the controler and to flex his biceps. The sweat hitting his nose.

Me:"What are you doing? I thought we were gonna play?"

Devon:"Nah, just reminding you what body you're in"

Devon:"Look at me man. I have beautiful abs, massive arms. These thighs could crush a melon between them. I appreciate that you picked me and that you like my body, but you gotta do something about this. We gotta go have fun. With another living being."

Me:"Devon... I really am happy how you treat me in your body, but... I don't think we have the same type of dating pool"

Devon:"I don't care whoever you fuck. I'm straight, or atleast I think I am, but very accepting. And if my man inside of me wants to fuck some handsome man, I will be more than happy to help you out. Bros gotta help each other"

Me:"But it's gonna be your body, man."

Devon:"So? You could do much worse with my body and you didn't. Getting fucked or fucking someone in the ass is not so bad."

Me:"Ok? So what place do you suggest?"

Devon:"Gym. We can show everyone what this body can do. Lot of people observe me there, so you can pick whoever you desire"

We arrived to the gym. So many hot and sexy people in sight. Devon took control to do his normal routine. It sucks that I could also have a body like this, but back in the day I wanted to see the world. I wanted to be myself in a world that hates my kind. Twenty years later, the world is so much more accepting. It's not ideal, but wow. How things gave changed

I still can't believe that Devon let's me stay in his body. I mean, look at him. He could be anything, have anyone. And yet this hot piece of meat is depressed with his easy life, being alone most of the time. I guess that's what happens when your serial killer parents move your family every now and then. You don't have any friends and those that you did might already be dead by their hand. How horrible... I honestly can't wait to see them. To look them in their face. With their son's face and to kill them. I hope Devon will forgive me. I know he says he wants to stop them, but it's his parents. I just have to make sure that he will not stop me when the time comes

Devon was just finishing up, when a cute twink approached us.

The guy:"Hey, I hope you don't mind that I was watching you"

Devon:"Nah, it's ok man. You need a hand with lifting?"

The guy smiled. "Oh I do need a hand, I just don't know If I asked the right person"

Devon sat down, looking all confused:"That depends if..."

I stopped Devon mid sentence. "I think that's a cue for me to take over, ok?"

Devon now in the back of my mind:"Sorry man, I usually don't respond to guys hitting on me. Go on. Have fun"

I smiled at the guy and casually finished the sentence

We headed to the showers. The owners must be probably sick with all these guys hooking up here. But we didn't care. We made out passionately. The twins was all over my muscles, as I would be in his place too. He was a bit smaller. That gave me a sense of dominating him.

I stopped and smiled at the guy. "I... just gotta let you know that I am a virgin"

Devon:"What!!! Dude, you never had sex with anyone?"

The guy looked at me from top to bottom. "You? If good looking people like you are virgins, then I have no idea how world works."

I chuckled nervously. It was true. I was 21 when I died, but back then it was much harder to date a find gay guy. Now you can just download Grindr and in a few minutes you got yourself a guy in your bedroom

Twink:"Well in that case we can go to your place and have some fun there. This isn't a very nice place to have your first time, don't you think"

I just smiled and nodded in approval

We were now in Devon's messy room. The guy was really shocked to see such a straight man cave, but didn't say a word. We made out. He took off my shirt soaked in sweat from gym. His lips now kissed my neck and went to over my pecs, down the middle to my waist band. He took my hard dick into his hand, squeezed hard and looked me deep into my eyes. His look was so full of lust, yet I could tell it was superficial. This guy isn't looking for romance. He just wants to be fucked hard. So let's give it to him

I took a bit of control of the moment. I grabbed him by the neck. Turned him around and pressed him against the wall. He was now moaning in pleasure as I was rubbing my hard dick hidden beneath the layers of my clothes against his ass. I was still holding him, choking him.

I pulled of my shorts and his just low enough to get my dick in there. I wanted to push it right in there. As hard as I could

Devon suddenly screamed out from the back of his mind:"Condom dude!!!"

I left the guy, moanjng against the wall, reaching out to the condom on the shelf. I was struggling to find which side to pick to put it on my dick

Twink:"Wait. Let me" it was obvious he jas done it a few times. The condor was on in a matters of seconds. "Do you have any lube?"

Devon intervened again:"Top drawer. Give him more attention, man. You're making it all about yourself"

"Shut up" I said out loud as a response to Devon, but the guy looked confused. "Oh sorry, not you. I'm just nervous. I have lube right here."

The guy went on Devon's bed on his back. His clothes were now gone and his ass was welcoming my dick. His legs wide open.

I pressed lightly my dick with a ridiculous ammount of lube on top.

It went smoothly so I tried to went all the way. This seemed to hurt the twins. "Hold your horses. I'm good, but not that good. A bit slower, cowboy."

I went in slowly. The pleasure got to Devon too. The way this guys ass was tight around the head of our dick was sending our minds to heaven.

I picked up the pace. The twink was moaning in pleasure and in pain at the same time. I grabbed him by the next to choke him. My other arm pressing his thigh.

Twink:"Harder!" I thought I was going as hard as possible, but I didn't think he could take it much more

Twink:"Harder!!!"

Devon:"Oh, jesus. Let me do it" Devon took over. I was in the back of our mind again. Still feeling everything.

Devon was like a beast, but the twink was really enjoying it.

I could feel all the cum building up. Ooh there's gonna be tons of cum.

Devon was biting his lower líp and furiously pounding this guy's ass. Sure, "Straight" my ass.

Devon:"I'm cumming!!!"

Twink:"Fill me! I want it all"

Devon shot out the stream of cum into the condom. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming. So much, that I lost control for a moment. I didn't know what was happening.

I opened my eyes. Still as Devon. Good. But I was back in control. But I was alone here. I couldn't feel Devon

"DEVON?!?"

Twink:"Right here. You pushed my soul out of my body, dude. If the guy here wasn't as welcoming you would have me erased or something"

Me:"I'm so sorry. I didn't think that would happen."

Devon:"It's fine. This guy's soul is asleep or maybe gone? I don't know. But I can't hear him now. Dude! I could feel my body's orgasm and his orgasm at the same time. I can assure you, that this is definitely the best I'll ever feel. So overwhelming."

Me:"Shit, dude. We gotta figure out how to get you put of there. Or you might be stuck"

Devon:"What if we wait for a bit? I kinda wanna try having sex with my body."

Me:"Kinky. You wanna get pounded too?"

Devon:"Guess I'm not so straight anymore, right?"

After our first fucking session, Devon passed out from all the sex. We still didn't know where this guy's soul was, but we would figure that out soon. I was just happy that I was finally alive. And I even have a boyfriend now? If that's what I can call Devon. Not to put labels on our relationship or anything

I grabbed the first pair of shorts from the floor I could find. Still sweaty from the sex, I headed to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water.

I was interrupted by a dark figure in the corner of the room

"Hello, son"

I was full of rage. But I can't fuck it up now. If I kill him, I won't know where his mom is and that would take me another decade to find her.

"Hey, dad. How was your holiday"

"Oh wonderful. Rome is your mother's favourite place to visit"

I tried to act as much as possible. Devon was in his room in a wrong body, so that wouldn't help me.

"Did you go to Colosseum this time?"

"Oh, we sure did." The father responded. But in the matter of seconds his expression changed. He was now holding a gun pointed at me

"What are you doing, dad?!"

"Devon knows we went to Bahamas"

Fuck. So he knew all along that I'm not Devon. But how?

"Me and my wife found out that the folk like you, who want to have your revenge for what we did, come back as ghosts to make our lives a living hell."

"So I'm not the first one?"

"Hahaha. Of course you're not. The first one came when Devon was 2 years old. Of course he doesn't remember, but that was a nasty one. All the paranormal stuff. We didn't know what we were dealing with back then. But now, oh we are used to deal with you. But possessing Devon is a first. Some possessed us and tried to kill us, but obviously failed."

"How can you tell that I'm not him? Besides the question."

"Oh it's an aura thing. Once you have the experience and a good guidance, you can just tell when a soul isn't in their rightful place."

"Now, tell me. Did Devon put up a lot of fight? Your answer will change the course of your torture."

"Devon is ok. He's in the body of the guy downstairs. It was an accident"

"Sure it was. That would make sure that we couldn't kill you or him, right? We're not so stupid, mister. Although I will not enjoy killing my son, there is no other choice."

"If you kill me, I will go after you even more. I have for the past 20 years and I will even after you die. My soul will not rest until you burn in hell"

"Sure you can do that, but it will take you some time to get out of this thing."

He was holding a wooden object with symbols

"What is that thing?"

"That mister, is your prison. It will bind you inside, until it breaks, or someone opens it on purpose. Which happens rarely if you ask me."

"You're doing a big mistake. Devon is in his room in a different body. Let him atleast get his body back."

"I can't take that chance. Me and my wife have a life to live up to and we won't stop just because our son got himself in some trouble and can't handle it."

"It's your son! You would kill him just so you can continue your killing spree?"

"Oh, definitely. Having a child is a great thing, but taking a life. That's something you won't ever forget about. The control it gives you."

"You're sick. No parent would ever do this to their child"

From the hallway a second voice spoke:"Oh these two are a chatty couple, right honey? So chatty chatty. But we need to hurry up, so get on with this" the mother said towards her husband

I could feel a horrible pain in my chest. Feelings very similar to the ones I felt 20 years ago. This couple was killing me again

"Sorry Devon. We couldn't have done anything" father said

"Devon hates you too!" I screamed out

"You're talking too much" and then nothing.

I don't know for how long this continued. I don't even know what they did with Devon's beautiful body. How they got rid of it.

Soon I started to feel walls around me. Walls? As a ghost I wouldn't be able to. Except if this is their prison that they were talking about.

I opened my eyes. There was only darkness. Nothing else. I looked around and on the other side of my prison was someone sitting, crying.

I got up to approach this person. He looked up

It was Devon. He was crying

"Paul! They killed me. My own mother slit my throat. I told her it's me. But she just killed me and trapped me into thus thing."

"I'm so so sorry, Devon. I never wanted any of this. I wanted revenge for them. But they were ready. They knew. Your father didn't listen to me too. He didn't care. I told him about your soul. But they are more sadistic then I thought"

"Paul, I'm dead. My parents killed me. My OWN PARENTS!"

"Devon, they are horrible people. And we will get our lives back. Maybe not our old lives, but we will. But first we have to get out of here. We're gonna get through this together. Ok?"

Devon collapsed into my arms. I was just glad that I could hold someone even if I was a ghost now. We were gonna get out of here, but I had no idea how

Outside of the ghost trap, the world went by.

Devon's father held the trap tightly as he watched his old house burn. His wife held her head on his shoulder.

"Ahhh, I think I might miss Devon. He gave our life some order"

"He limited us. We couldn't ve ourselves all the time. Now we can. What do you say we go pick up some hitchhiker?"

"Ohhhh, that's a lovely idea. Get rid of that box, it gives me the creeps"

And as the two of them were laughing while leaving, the box was sinking deeply into the river below the bridge until some human would find it.

If Paul and Devon would know what was happening to then right now, they would be devastated.

[migue-gj]

Deserved

Ryan was a sweetheart to everyone in the gym—always there with a smile, a word of encouragement to new gymgoers, or a trusted spotter whenever he was free. Even the hardiest of muscleheads melt under his kind smile and sunny personality. The gym felt more positive whenever he was around. But not everyone shares the same sentiment. The new employee, Kevin, was underpaid and overworked. A mix of these two nursed a resentment that proved immune to Ryan's infectious positivity. The stress and frustration built up, and he resented being invisible against the attention Ryan received from everybody.

After the gym closed one evening, Kevin stayed behind to finish cleaning the backrooms. Ryan, who often stayed late to chat with the staff and offer help, noticed Kevin looking worn out.

"Hey, Kevin," Ryan said, his voice warm and genuine as always, "you doing good? You've been working a lot lately. Do you need some help?"

A smile crept off Kevin's lip, but he carefully hid it from Ryan. "I'm a little tired. I need to carry stuff from the back, and I'm out of here. Since you're offering help, why don't you help me?"

As Ryan led the way, since he had been in the back several times before, Kevin could not help but chuckle silently for what was about to come. He pulled the zipper out of his pocket and waited until they were in the dimply lit part of the storage room. His hand trembled with anticipation, and the curved smile on his lips had already reached from ear to ear.

"You've been kind to everybody, and you never deserved this." Kevin muttered, his breathing haggard from the excitement lodged in his throat. "I just... I need a way out."

Before Ryan could react, Kevin coiled his arms around the bodybuilder's shoulders and pressed the zipper on his chest. A sickening sensation ebbed over Ryan's body as the zipper meld on his skin. His cultivated strength vanished instantaneously, causing him to topple over and hit the ground. But before he could, his eyes widened in shock before being pulled inward and replaced by empty and black sockets. Instead of a thud, his skin fell on a crumple of hollowed flesh.

Kevin stepped back, breathing heavily with trepidation. He stared into the disorganized folds of flesh that had once been Ryan. When he saw it unmoving, the fear in his mind was swiftly replaced with an incomparable joy that stoked him to laughter. "I... I did it. I did it!"

"There is no turning back now," Carefully, he lifted the mound of flesh and opened the zipper. First, his legs. Then, his arms for support. Still loose over his body, Kevin slid his cock inside Ryan's hollowed-out dick and took notice of the stark difference. It won't matter anymore because that length and girth will be his in a few seconds. With the suit hanging loose over him, Kevin zipped the suit slowly. Every inch caused the suit to tighten over his body, squeezing him inside as the muscles took form.

"AAAAAAHHHH!" Kevin screamed from the muscles crushing him into a paste. Yet, he didn't worry because this room was soundproof. As he reached 2/3rds of the zipper, another's voice melded with his screams. It was Ryan's voice, and it was becoming his. Even the pain seemed distant now. The threshold between him and the suit blurred until there was nothing. There was just him—staring into the mirror and seeing Ryan's reflection back.

"You didn't deserve this Ryan, but I did." Kevin did Ryan's signature smile. There was a time when seeing this expression made him sick to his core. But not now, and never again. With one hand cupping his growing dick and balls, and his other arm flexing his newfound strength, his smile grew only deeper. "I deserve this. I truly do."

---

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[migue-gj]

Stealing my former high school bully’s body was so easyyy. Look, now I am hot, and the best part is that I’m gay.

I leaned back in the plush leather seat of his—no, my—new car, savoring the feeling of power. God, I’d waited so long for this. All those years of torment, the sneers, the shoves into lockers, the homophobic slurs... they were all a distant memory now, fading away like smoke. The only thing that mattered was this body I was now inhabiting, perfectly sculpted and oozing confidence.

I smirked at the reflection in the rearview mirror. His—my—strong jawline, the chiseled features that had made everyone swoon, and those piercing blue eyes that used to look down on me with contempt were now mine to control. And control them I would.

The plan had come to me after a particularly rough night, one too many drinks mixed with the lingering bitterness of my high school years. I’d always been obsessed with the idea of revenge, but not the kind that left scars. I wanted something deeper, more satisfying. I wanted to become him. To live the life he’d never appreciated and do it better.

It wasn’t hard to find a spell. You’d be surprised at how many dark corners of the internet are devoted to body swapping. A few emails, a payment sent in crypto, and a strange-looking amulet later, I was ready. The ritual was simple enough—though it took a lot of concentration. But the moment I slipped it around his neck while he slept, it was over in seconds. I woke up in his bed, in his skin, and he… well, I don’t know where he is now. I like to imagine he’s trapped somewhere, conscious of what’s happening but completely powerless.

The first thing I did was check myself out in the mirror—really take in everything I’d just acquired. This body wasn’t just hot; it was perfect. Years of disciplined workouts, clean eating, and who knows what else had transformed him into someone who looked like they walked straight off a magazine cover.

Actually, make that literally off a magazine cover. I found a stack of fashion magazines under his bed with his stupidly gorgeous face plastered on them. He’d somehow turned his pretty-boy looks and gym rat habits into a full-fledged modeling career. I guess that explained the ridiculous number of selfies on his phone, each one showing off a different outfit or a perfectly timed flex in front of the mirror.

So yeah, I wasn’t giving up the gym. If anything, I was leaning into it. It’s not like I had to do much to maintain this body—he’d already done the hard work, and now I was reaping the benefits. I still hit the gym daily, if only to flex for the mirrors and admire my reflection. The attention I get now is incredible, and the best part is, I can be shameless about it.

Of course, I couldn’t wait to see what Grindr was like from this side of things. Installing the app was the first thing I did once I figured out the password to his phone. The moment I uploaded a shirtless pic, the notifications started rolling in—an endless stream of thirsty messages. Guys were practically lining up for a chance with me, throwing compliments, and I have to admit, I loved every second of it.

I’d spend hours swiping through profiles, chatting up whoever caught my eye. The way people reacted to me now was night and day compared to before. No more awkward small talk, no more second-guessing myself. I could tell someone to meet me at the gym just to watch me lift, and they’d show up without hesitation.

And the best part? I’ve started getting more gigs, just from a few posts on social media showing off his—no, my—body. Modeling agencies are all about that lean muscle, those killer cheekbones, that smirk that could melt anyone on the other end of the camera. He’d never really appreciated what he had, but I’m about to take this career to the next level. I’ve already got a photoshoot lined up for some luxury brand—an easy way to rake in the cash while showing off.

His—my—Instagram is blowing up too. I’m always in the gym, flexing and posting thirst traps for the masses. The likes pour in, and the comments? They’re pure gold. People are practically worshipping me, and I’ve only just begun. This body was wasted on him, but now that it’s mine, I’m going to enjoy every moment of it.

Every time I flex, every time I see a new message pop up on Grindr, it’s a reminder of just how sweet this revenge is. Not only did I take his body, but I’m living his life better than he ever could. I’m hotter, more confident, and finally free to be myself in the best possible way.

This is just the beginning.

[migue-gj]

The locker room was quiet, save for the distant hum of the overhead lights. He was there, leaning against the lockers, fresh from the shower, unaware of what was coming. The jock—everything about him screamed physical perfection. He was the type who’d peaked early, confident in the power that his body gave him. But tonight, that power would be mine.

I moved silently, the syringe hidden in my palm. It was filled with a substance I’d perfected over years—something that would transform him from a person into something wearable, a skin that would soon become my own. I approached him casually, as if I belonged there, and before he could react, I struck.

The needle plunged into his neck, and the fluid surged into his bloodstream. He spun around, eyes wide with confusion, but I held him steady as the process began. The substance spread quickly, numbing his body, turning his flesh malleable. He tried to speak, but all that escaped was a strangled gasp.

As he collapsed to his knees, I could see the change taking hold. His muscles, once hard and defined, began to soften, his skin turning almost translucent. His entire body was losing its structure, his strength dissolving into nothing. But the real transformation was still to come.

I reached down, grasping him by the base of his dick feeling the last bit of resistance in his once-powerful form. With a firm, deliberate motion, I began to squeeze, forcing the last of his essence out of him. His soul, his very life force, was being channeled through that final point of connection, expelled with each pulsing throb.

His eyes widened in a mix of shock and disbelief as he realized what was happening. He could feel himself draining away, his identity slipping out with each forceful squeeze. I didn’t stop until he was empty, until every last drop of his essence had been extracted, leaving nothing but a hollow shell.

The body, now nothing more than skin, slumped forward, utterly devoid of life. I lifted him carefully, his once-imposing frame now light and pliable. With a sense of anticipation, I began the process of stepping inside. The skin wrapped around me like a glove, his features, his muscles, molding to my shape, tightening as if I’d been born in this body.

Once I was fully inside, I flexed his fingers, rolled his shoulders, feeling the power that was now mine. I looked in the mirror, and there he was—no, there I was. The same smirk, the same confident stance, but with my mind, my will behind it all.

The transformation was perfect. I was him now, and no one would ever know. His life, his body, all mine to command. And as I walked out of that locker room, feeling the residual warmth of his essence still tingling beneath the surface, I knew that this body was just the beginning of what I could achieve.

[migue-gj]

Horizons II: Numbers

READ CHAPTER ONE HERE

I looked at Omarion with my lupine grin, my sweet lookin' stolen face twisted and devilish. Couldn’t stop myself from snatching the blunt right out of his fingers mid puff and bringing it to my lips. Here’s the thing, bro; yeah, I was 6'3 and fit as fuck, not gonna lie. But Omarion was another beast entirely. The guy was almost 7'0 and lean like the good runner he was. You had to have someone get in and out of a place like a jackrabbit? Omarion's your boy. Those size 17 stompers he's got somehow are quick and quiet, especially when he kicks my ass on the basketball court. I let out a big fuckin' cloud in his face, winkin' as I hand the smokin' cigarello back to him.

"So, 'white boy'..." Omarion chuckled under his breath, still all kinds of fucked up about his Colombian parcero stretchin' out this gringo's bod. "You got a dude for me or what? Fuckin' hogs be runnin' me all over town." I looked down at my feet, racking this dude's memories for the name of that little sidepiece that he dumps his load into every Saturday night. I pushed down the growing rage I felt as Aidan's face continued to appear in my head- I didn't have a bit of guilt squeezin' into this fucker knowing what he did to that kid. I had even less guilt about what I was about to do to that tiny lil bitch as his name finally popped into my brain.

"Orlando. Orlando Avellaneda." Omarion raised his eyebrow at me as I looked at him with my big blue eyes. I kinda loved the way it fucked with him. "He's over off Frederick Street. He's this dude's little fuck toy. Bruh, it's wild. This guy is a full on fuckin' racist, but he's got a thing for the Cuban boys." Omarion took a big drag from the lit cigarello, puffin' out a couple of rings before smiling.

"Beggars can't be choosers, bro. But you ain't stickin' that monster inside me, even if I'm in 'your' side ho." I punched that tatted up tower in the arm, laughin' at his seriousness.

"You good, man. I promise I won't drill ya. Can't promise you won't wanna, though." I pawed at my bulge playfully as he grimaced in disgust.

"Boy if you don't stop playin'. Get in the fuckin' car." He stomped his giant AF1 on the blunt, struttin' over to the far corner of the warehouse. I followed behind, and behind the back pillar sat a fresh as fuck Jeep. Omarion hopped in the driver's seat, and the engine roared to life. Fuck I missed that sound. Nothin' like a roarin' engine, speedin' down the highway, dodgin' screamin' pigs and bitch ass Nissans to get away. I hopped in, wondering if I'd ever get to feel that rush again. I think back to Aidan, that innocent little face of his... was I really condemned to being some nine to fiver, rotting away in a cubicle. I couldn't ditch the dude, that would fuck him up beyond fixin'. But this beast can't be fuckin' caged man.

"Haul ass outta here, bro. Gotta get back before he gets suspicious." Omarion rolled his eyes, slammin' that cinder block foot onto the gas and plowing through the wood planks on the warehouse door, and out of the port. I looked down at Chase's phone, pullin' up his texts. I scrolled through bullshit after bullshit from his lame ass bank job- put a pin in that for later. Finally, I found the little shit. Orlando's name popped up midway down, the horny fuck puttin' a peach emoji right on his contact. I hit call and put my finger to my lips, Omarion snickering as I did.

"Uh... Chase? Did you forget your wallet again?" His voice was shrill and irritating, nothin' like Aidan. You could hear the brattiness with every word.

"I'm comin' over. Get that ass ready." He was quiet on the other side of the line, givin' me a mini heart attack thinkin' I'd fucked up and freaked him out. At least until I heard his breaths under the static.

"Mmmm playin' bad boy tonight are we? Your houseboy not giving you what you need?" I felt my teeth grind, who the fuck was this little cocksucker to talk about him that way... I took a deep breath, Omarion still raisin' his eyebrows at my huffin' and puffin'.

"Yeah, I'm feelin' nasty tonight. I'm gonna stretch that mouth as wide as it'll go." Little did he know.

"Door's unlocked, lemme give you what he can't. See you soon, baby." He hung up, and I tossed Chase's phone onto the center console of the car. Wouldn't be needing it for much longer, anyway. Omarion had his eyes plastered on the road, clearly biting his tongue. Honestly, I get it. I ate pussy like it was a fuckin' banquet, so did he. I didn't understand why I got so fuckin' enfadado at any slight against that blonde twink either. As much as I got under this gringo's skin, he'd gotten under mine too.

"So. You into this boy, ain't you?" I whipped my head to scowl at him.

"I'm not into him. I'm just playin' the game, bro." He chuckled under his breath, shakin' his head.

“Sure, bruh. Last I checked you were on track for a hundred bitches in one year. Eyes on the prize, brother!” He turned, laughin’ his stupid ass off, but not one laugh came outta me. That shit didn’t escape him, he noticed right away. That smile faded quick before we sat the rest of the ride in silence, he didn’t even put on Kendrick like he usually did. This shit was gettin' complicated. As we pulled up to his bougie ass townhouse, I heard the lil' ping comin' out of my phone, seeing a missed call and text from Aidan. Omarion opened the door, stepping out onto the street, turnin' to stare at me. "C'mon bro, we don't have time for this shit."

"Bruh, gimme a fuckin' second!" I swiped down, seeing the message from Aidan:

Aidan: Did you get stuck in traffic? I hope the ice cream doesn't melt...

I smiled, that boy ain't even mad. I don't get people worryin' about where I'm at, what I'm doin', who I'm with... I opened the camera, snapping a picture givin' him those 'Imma fuck the shit outta you' eyes.

Chase: yeah, babe- got stuck by the bridge. ice cream is fucked, gonna get you a nice n creamy one. i know u like that.

He replied with that naughty lil' devil emoji. Mmmm... I bet he'd be on his knees the minute I walked in that door. I felt my rod stirrin' in my jock, drippin' my juices out this gringo's swollen cock. This guy really got me goin'... but fuck. I wasn't a fuckin' cocksucker.

"Put that fuckin' phone down. We gotta fuckin' go, bro!" I nodded at Omarion, seein' just how pissed he was gettin' standing there. Tossin' that phone in the backseat, I got out the car and walked up to his door. Tappin' the doorbell, that thirsty lil fuck came runnin' down the stairs, whipping that door open quicker than I expected. The skinny lil twig stared up at me, clearly confused why Chase was as sexy as I made him overnight and why this 7'0 shirtless ebony giant is lookin' at him that way. The kid was a pipsqueak. Fresh outta college, ‘applying for dental school’ apparently. Typical dick cravin’ lil’ fa… gay boy.

"Whoa... Chase?" The lil bitch looked me up and down, I snickered as I saw his dicklet go full mast as I crossed my inked arms.

"The one and only, baby." I winked at him, watchin' his face flush red as an apple, before throwin' my arm around my bro. "This is Omarion. I think he's in need of a little.. stress relief." My man was gropin' at that jackhammer of his and that monster grew at just a single touch, snakin' down his sweatpants like the anaconda it is. I smirked, watchin' drool start to stream down Orlando's smooth chin.

"Yeeh... Yeah that sounds... good... But, when did you get tat..." I couldn't help but laugh as Omarion gripped him by the fuckin' cheeks, pushing him back into the living room. I shut the door behind us, smugly turning the deadbolt before slowly pullin' down my sweats. I turned around, grippin' my musky, sticky jock and my jaw nearly fuckin' dropped. Omarion had already dropped trou, his big ass Nikes and sweats chucked over the back end of the couch, and both Orlando and I completely fixated on that huge ass screwdriver stickin' straight outta his curly pubes. Fuck, maybe I hadn't really looked before when we double teamed the last few girls- too busy with my cock down her throat, but holy fuckin' shit bruh. Thick as a beercan, veins runnin' down that footlong like rivers, and his mushroom head pokin' the little twink right in the nose.

"Yo, you down for the spit?" Omarion snickered as he pried Orlando's thin lips open, hockin' a thick wad of spit into his mouth. Man, when I tell you I was in the fuckin' position in three seconds flat-the twink's feet over my shoulders, his grey shorts pulled to the side with that puckery hole just beggin' for my cock. Omarion threw up his fist, our tatted knucks colliding like the green light we both knew it was. "Alright lil' bitch, open wide." Orlando, the obedient little sub, could barely open that mouth any bigger than he already did before my bro had thrust that footer straight down his throat, blowin' out a hoot of pleasure as his head slowly fell back. My mind flashed back to Aidan back at the apartment, probably checkin' his phone to see if I was on my way back...

"Bro..." Man... I couldn't get him out of my head. I had a tight hole pressed against my steamy bulge and all I could think about was... "BRO!" I shook my head, lookin' up at my bro straight up face fuckin' Orando's gaggin' face. "Wake the fuck up, bruh. Hurry it up and stick it in already!" It's a means to an end, I tell myself. I pull down my jock, my cock already standin' alert, drippin' with my pre and some of last night's load still caught under the hood. I felt my old self for a sec- my brows gettin' low, my teeth barin', that animal snarl... Well, his hole will be a nice lil' cleaner for me. I smirked, pressin' that musky head against his beggin' pucker, and with a deep fuckin' groan, slowly let my slimy rod slip into his guts. "That's my fuckin' boy. Come on!" Omarion picked up his pace, leanin' over the fucker and holdin' onto the couch beneath him, grinnin' from ear to ear. Man, when I say I love tag teamin' with my boy, I FUCKIN' LOVE IT. The guy just turns up the heat, bruh, and that shit just gets me goin'.

I let my long ass tongue flop out my mouth, smilin' and pantin' as I start plowin' that twink ass. Orlando was moanin' and chirpin' like the thirsty lil slut he is, gettin' pegged from both sides by two professional fuckers. Sweat drippin' down my forehead, Omarion and I just look at eachother, smirkin' at the sounds of his sweaty balls slappin' against the twink's face, and my groin against his bony lil' ass.

"Fuckin' take this dick, lil' pussy. Yeah suck it." Omarion slapped Orlando's cheek, the little pervert whining as he's spitroasted. As the lil' fucker's eyes closed in lust, my boy looked me dead in the eye, and I knew exactly what it meant. Omarion slowly stepped back, his dick slowly pulling out of the twink's throat. I lean in over his panting face, my scowl growin' crazed as I rammed his ass.

"Woohoo, bro. You really shoulda got your own breeder, pendejo. This one's taken." His eyes squinted in confusion as I pulled out of his lil' pucker, and Omarion made his move, stickin' that massive mitt into his open mouth, pullin' his lips wider and wider- his head stretchin' and distorting as he tugged, before bringin' his size 17 dog up and shovin' it down Orlando's pre-stretched throat. That wet squelch rang out as his neck bulged around the shape of that smelly fuckin' boat slidin' down into his chest.

Lemme just break this down for you. Slippin' into someone, that's one thing. Feels fuckin' great, gets you off, the sounds and smells and the texture... yeah it's hot. But watchin' your bro squeezin' into some bitchass... that's a whole different fuckin' level, bruh. Seein' him plop his ass on the back of the couch, slippin' his other foot down the twink's gurglin' throat, lettin' himself just slide down into Orlando's bod lubed with his own sweat. I couldn't help myself, bro. I grabbed my musky cock, slowly pumpin' it as I watched his calves slurp down into the lil' fucker. This is karma, bitch. I bet he loved the feelin' of his thick ass thighs stretchin' his head like a rubber mask, or the smell of his round sweaty ass as he sits down right on top of his nose. Wanna know how I know? Those whimpers turned into moans real fuckin' quick. He turned and looked at me jackin' away, goonin' at the insane sight.

"Bruh, c'mon! I get your bod is gettin' you horny but help me in and we can get the fuck outta here!" Fuck, he was right. Bein' inside Chase had my brain doin' a buncha fuck shit, as much as I'd changed him- I think he was changin' me too... I blinked, runnin over to the squirming pipsqueak and holding him down, watchin' as Omarion kept sinkin' himself deeper and deeper inside of him. His toes bulged out beneath the pale skin, slidin' down his smooth legs, his skinny calves, and with a buncha grunts n' squeezin' from Omarion, his gigantic feet suctioned into Orlando's immediately bloating them into my boy's veiny, funky size 17s.

Omarion goes to a whole 'nother level when he's gettin' into you. Those eyes got wild, grinnin' like the Joker as he pinched the twink's waist, and stretched the legs tight over his own. Slowly, Orlando's legs swelled and suctioned over my boy's his tight calves and basketball-trained quads bulging out of this kid's skin. His curly brown hairs sprouting out of the pale legs, before quickly tanning with his mocha body inside.

"Lemme just... Unf!" He shoved his hands into the gapin' maw, slinkin' down to his semi hard dick, deflated after his fake lust had faded away. I watched as his snake slid into Orlando's, stretchin' it wide before those kiwi balls of his slurped into his new droopy sac. The man was gigglin' like a fuckin' lunatico, his ass now inflating the bony rear into two watermelons below his skinny waist. His arms found their way into the twink's shoulders; like slippin' on a pair of overalls, all he needed to do was shrug, and the rubbery skin slurped over his torso and chest. A couple of his tatts slowly rose to the surface: barbed wire from his time in the pen, and two snakes circlin' around eachother- a tribute to our partnership for the past decade. His arms slid down into their new gloved home, the skin creaking and groaning as the big ol' mitts swelled into their new fingers n' palms.

"Aight bro, thanks for the ride!" We bumped our knuckles, as he took Orlando's orgasmic face, pulling it over the back of his head and letting it snap right over his own. Squeaks, creaks, and squelches echoed in the room as he tugged on the mask atop his head: Orlando's lips growin' thick, his nose flattenin', the sharp stubble poppin' out his sharp jaw... Fuck... Why was I thinkin' that way...

My bro opened his new eyes, the twink's pretty boy face now twisted into a gruff ass snarl. Reachin' over to his sweatpants, he pulled out the blunt he'd rolled in the car, stickin' it between his lips and lighting it. Seein' a lil' cockslut turn into a fuckin' giant ass man, blowin' his thick clouds was such a fuckin' trip.

"Orlando, huh? Bruh, this guy was a fuckin' tightass motherfucker." Hearin' that high pitched voice gravelly n' low... that shit got my stomach in knots. "This shit never gets old, man. Trippy as fuck every time." He took another puff before handin' that good shit over to me, snickering at my hard on I'd tried to slip back into my jock. As I took a hit, that motherfucker started leanin' over and pokin' it! "Yeah, man. I see what you mean when ya slip into a cocksucker. Certain things just look... different through these eyes."

I couldn't say for sure man, but I think I felt my cheeks get red from his touch. Even through this twunk's face I could see Omarion's fuckin' smirk on his lips, feel that fucker's grip in his hands, smell that musk flowin' from out his skin. It was Omarion through and through, and fuck was it crazy to see those lil things comin' from Orlando's body. I smacked that chucklin' dick's hand off my rod, playin' it off as best I could.

"Yeah, you fuckin' wish this dick was up your thirsty ass." He huffed under his breath, jumpin' off the bed and over to the bag he'd dropped by the door to get into a more fittin' look.

"Shit, bruh. He's got some spunk in these balls. Just gimme some pussy and... UNH... UNH... UNH..." He hip thrust forward, grinnin' as he slipped on his tank. I couldn't watch him too long, 'cuz as much as I wanted to deny it, I wanted to see him fuckin' some tight hole in this bod. He looked good.

"Heh, you gonna find some good cumdump in that pretty boy." I walked over, handin' him the joint before slippin' on my sweatpants. I felt him lookin' at me, didn't have to even turn around.

"So... what's the plan, bro? Back to 'your' place, regroup, and get movin'?" I stopped for a second, realizing that while I shoulda been thinkin about the escape plan, I wasn't. Every moment that day my head shoulda been in the game, like it was every other time I hid in some perra. But it wasn't. The whole time, all I was thinkin' was how long it'd take to get back to Aidan.

"Uh, yeah. We should get goin'." I turned around, lookin' at him slippin those big funky dogs into his AF1's, tossin' the empty bag over his shoulder.

“Well, let’s dip.” Omarion strut out the door as if he owned the place. Well, I guess he did, heh. He’s always been a pro at this shit. Bro is a fuckin’ chameleon. When he’s in you, nobody would do so much as a double take. He’s got your memories on lock. He’s got your interests on lock. He’s got your voice, your walk, your smile… By the time he hops out, he’s got ‘em thinkin’ you just had a phase or some shit like that.

See, when we’re inside you, you’re seein’ everything we’re seein’, feelin’ how we feel, thinkin’ how we think… Sometimes when we ditch your skin, you wake up a bit different than you used to be. I mean, we’re doin’ you a favor. You get a fuckin’ sick ass sex god wearin’ and stretchin’ your body out, you’re gonna walk away with a bit of our swagger in you, bruh. Chase was a slow learner with that, bitchin’ and moanin’ 24/7, but nothin’ more than a whisper way back there pretendin’ like he hates my big ass schlong swingin’ between his legs. But Omarion, he has a fuckin’ queue of bros beggin’ him to squeeze back in ‘em. He does somethin’ different, bro. I don’t know how to explain it. I didn’t then, on that drive that night after stoppin’ at some shitty cornerstore to swipe some ice cream for Aidan, I just sorta stared at him. Didn’t say much, just vibed to some Curren$y as he weaved through fuckin’ slow ass cars; but I had to ask.

“So how the fuck 're you so good at this shit, man?” He turned to me, raisin’ his eyebrow. “Like you get in him like it’s nothin’, and it’s like he’s always been this way. No one bats a fuckin’ eye.” Omarion rolled his eyes, turnin’ back to the road.

“You get way too into it, bruh.” His voice was low and cold.

“The fuck? What’s that supposed to mean?” I knew exactly what he meant. But in the back of my head, I needed to hear him say it.

“When I go into hidin’, I’m not out there keepin’ up their relationships. I’m not callin’ their moms. I don’t give a fuck about goin’ into work. I get in, get the fuck outta town, and get out. No strings, no bullshit.” His eyes were fixed on the road, I knew he’d been meanin’ to say this for a while. “But you, bro? You out there makin’ sure the rent is paid. You out there makin’ excuses for where they’re goin’. You tellin’ their professors you goin’ to a funeral so you gotta take some time off of class. You get involved, bruh. You always do.” He finally looked at me, not mad or anything, but he was serious. “This time I got a feelin’ you in too deep.”

“I’m am not.” I did my best to be all, ‘I don’t give a fuck’ about the clock. But Omarion knows me too damn well. He saw right through that shit.

“We stopped for ice cream for your butt buddy, bro.” We sat in silence for an uncomfortably long time. Felt like fuckin’ ages, but he finally summed it up. “You gotta ditch this dude. We stayin’ the night and you either ditch the boyfriend or ditch the bod. Get a new dude and leave this shit in the dust. We got a job to do. Don’t forget that.”

Took forty minutes to get back to the apartment. Bruh, I was sweatin' bullets. I didn't know how Omarion would vibe with Aidan, what kind of excuse I was gonna have to come up with. I looked down at the plastic bag and the half melted chocolate ice cream inside. No, the bodega didn't have fuckin' pistachio. Yes, I asked. Omarion stood next to me in the elevator, flexin' and snappin' pics to send the boss.

"Aight, we're friends. We saw eachother at the corner store. You're comin' back to smoke and chill. Got it?" Omarion huffed, slippin' his bod's phone back into his sweats.

"Yeah, we good. But tomorrow mornin', we dippin' right?" I couldn't even look at him. I just nodded. "Bruh, we're gettin' the fuck outta here, ditchin' these bitches and gettin' back to the boss. That's the fuckin' plan. Don't get all horny for this dude, you ain't stayin."

"I'm not fuckin' horny for him, bro!" The elevator doors opened, and we walked up to the door. Just as I was fuckin' with the keys, I heard the door unlock and watched as the door swung open. He stood on the other side, lookin' irritated as fuck. Aidan stood there with his arms crossed, flingin' knives out his eyes.

“Just headed to get ice cream, huh?” I stuttered, couldn’t get a single word out. He looked so disappointed, man. “Two nights, Chase? Two nights you come home hours late, doing who knows what kind of shit all night!” He was pissed, and let me tell you somethin’. No one fuckin’ talks to me like that. You raise your voice, I raise my fuckin’ fist. Talk to me like I’m some bitch and you’ll be hangin’ by your balls from the ceiling. So, why couldn’t I say anything? I stood there like a fuckin’ tool, stutterin’ and all ‘uhhh… ummm… you know…’ If he were any other bro comin’ at me like that I’d have laid his ass out on the tile floor. But not a fuckin’ word would leave my lips. I just couldn’t, man. Thank fuckin’ Christ for Omarion, savin’ the day with a quick one.

“Hey, I’m Orlando. I’m friends with Chase.” He stuck his hand out, smiling at Aidan with that charmer grin of his. “I saw this dumbass beggin’ the guy at the counter for some pistachio ice cream and was like 'yo, it’s my boy!” Aidan looked at him all skeptical, just starin’ at his hand. Turnin’ to me, all I did was nod like a fuckin’ dumbass, handing him the bag of ice cream. I was gettin’ nervous, but after a second or two he cracked a smile and shook his hand. I let out a sigh of relief. As Omarion did what he did best, playin’ it on the down low and makin’ him feel all comfortable.

“Nice to meet you, Orlando. Sorry about the blow up. But your ‘bro’ over there knows what I’m talkin’ about, right?” I could tell he was still annoyed, but Omarion’s magic tongue had taken his tone down. He waved us in, lettin’ Omarion through but holdin’ his arm in front of me before I could even walk through the door. He got in close, and I felt his arms slowly slide around my waist. I saw under that sweet lil’ smile a whole lotta sadness. I really fuckin’ hurt the guy. His lips quickly planted on mine, my eyes closed and all I wanted to do was to at least make the guy feel like this piece of shit I was piloting would do the right thing for once. When our lips parted, he leaned into my ear and whispered. “Please, Chase. Don’t do it again.”

He turned around, walkin’ to the kitchen to get some bowls. I shut the door behind us, and couldn’t avoid Omarion’s fuckin’ death stare. All of that just proved his point. I was in deep, too fuckin’ deep. But seein’ him again in that moment, the big blue eyes and that sweet smile… I was havin’ second thoughts about the plan.

---

Alright, folks! This is going to be the last entry of Horizons posted to Tumblr, the rest of this piece is gonna be exclusively on Blogspot and GSS. I know that may disappoint some of y'all, but here's why. Tumblr isn't the greatest place for longform multichapter stories, and Horizons is turning into something a lot bigger than just two or three posts on here. Each of these chapters are turning into 5k+ words and it's just not ideal for this platform. GSS allows for multiple chapters under a uniform series, which helps tremendously with continuity. I invite y'all to come check out Horizons on GSS, and I'll be sure to link it whenever a new chapter is added. As of right now, I have solid plot framework for 4 chapters of it, with it being very open to having several more afterward. I'll continue to have one-offs on Tumblr, so don't think I'm ditchin' y'all. I'm still here and I ain't going nowhere. :)

[migue-gj]

A Better Gift Than Chocolates

It was Valentine's Day, and Diego was about to buy a box of chocolates for his girlfriend as the loving and caring boyfriend he was. However, when a scrawny young man noticed his big ass, Diego's plans for the day, or rather, for his life, were about to change.

Diego was caught off guard when he felt someone grab his ass from behind. "This ass is mine," the young man whispered into his ear. Diego thought about punching him or shouting at him to take his dirty hands off his ass, but his head suddenly became foggy and his pupils dilated, there was something about that young man's voice that made his words sound so convincing...

"This ass is... yours," Diego responded with an emotionless voice. The young man smirked and slapped Diego's ass hard.

"It sure is, big guy," The young man chuckled, pulling down Diego's shorts and admiring his bare muscular cheeks, he groped and squeezed them for a while. Diego just continued standing motionless with a blank face as he mindlessly repeated, "This ass is yours..."

"You know, I was just going to buy some chocolate for my boyfriend, but I think he will like to eat your ass a lot more than chocolates." The young man pressed his body behind Diego and pushed his hard dick into Diego's tight entrance. He then put his head on Diego's shoulder and whispered close to his ear, "Now I want you to say 'This body is yours'."

"T-This bo-body... is... is aaarghh..." Diego tried to obey, but he was afraid of what was going to happen if he did. Even with his mind feeling so cloudy, he could feel something wasn't right.

The young man thrusted his cock deeper inside his ass. "C'mon, big guy, all you have to do is say the words. Stop resisting and let me in," He whispered, his voice shattering any resistance left inside Diego's mind.

"This body... is yours." As Diego said those words, his eyes rolled back and he moaned, his hard cock started to spurt cum all over the chocolate boxes and everything went dark for him...

As Diego's cock spurted his last load, the young man was suddenly sucked into Diego's body, there were now only the young man's clothes left on the floor. Diego was grinning now as he looked at the cum coated chocolate boxes in front of him, the cum being the true essence of what was once Diego.

Diego gave his ass a hard slap, "Thank you for the body, your huge ass will be fitting for my boyfriend's huge cock," Diego said, pulling up his shorts and then leaving the supermarket without any chocolate.

[migue-gj]

Horizons

It was some fuck shit, man. Hiding behind a dumpster, pantin' through my balaclava... I can't believe that little shit ratted on me to the fuckin' cops. Picture this. I'm in that fucker's car, a beautiful Aston Martin, just about done hotwiring it. I was literally three fuckin' seconds away from getting the hell out of there, with a sick new ride. But no, that stupid fuckin' rat let me in the gate, watched me hop in the car, and then called the fuzz. Thought he'd be able to just pocket the two grand I paid him off with, but believe me. Karma is a bitch.

So by the time I had the car ready to go, I hear the fuckin' pigs squealin' at me. The whole nine yards, man. Guns drawn, "put your hands up," blah blah blah. Fuck that shit. I took the fuck off, hoppin' over the fence and just cutting through people's backyards. Man, they had a whole perimeter set up. Cops on every major street corner, watchin for my big bird lookin' ass decked out in black. On a side note, I looked hot as fuck by the way. Not gonna lie, the kicks were fresh as fuck. But either way, there was no way I was gonna get back to the docks without being seen. So I had to fall back onto plan B.

I snuck through alleys, hid behind trashcans and corners, but I knew my trashy ass apartment was just around the corner. Plus, if that little fucker told them who I was, they'd be looking for Thiago Zapata at his place, right? Only thing is, I wasn't gonna go to my place. I moved into the building like three months ago, so I got to know the neighbors pretty alright. The old lady across the hall, the streetracer to the left, and to the right were Chase & Aidan. Two little cocksuckers. Aidan was alright, built like a fuckin' blonde twig but always real happy and nice. He was cool, but his man was another story. Chase was one of those little trust fund bitches, thinkin' they own everything, thinkin' you should be thankful to just be around them... I made all my money snatchin' shit from fuckers just like him. Always lookin' me up and down, questioning my swag, complaining about the smoke, complaining about the music; bro, he literally came up and was like "Do you bathe? I can smell you from next door." Fuckin' bitch ass. I decided then and there, if a plan should ever go wrong, I now had a plan B.

So as I bolted across the street, hiding stiff as a board behind a tree, I finally made it to the shithole that was my building. No cops outside yet, but from the sirens I knew they were on the fuckin' way. I checked my phone, seein' the time was just before 10 PM. The universe was on my side that night man, I guess it was as fuckin' fed up with Chase as I was. I got upstairs and hid in the janitor's closet right between my door and theirs, and I waited. I knew he always came home late from whatever the fuck he did every Saturday night, and that Aidan would be sitting there waiting for him like a lil' puppy. I almost felt bad for the guy. Not knowing what it's like to stick your dick in some good fuckin' pussy, and then for the guy you give it up for to be such a piece of shit. I'm doing him a favor, bro.

I heard the footsteps comin' up the stairs, so I opened the door just a crack, in case it was the fuckin' pigs about to break into my place. But no, there he was in that whack ass outfit, lookin' like he lived at Abercrombie & Fitch, struttin' down the hall probably drunk as shit. I waited for him to get close to the closet, and just as he stumbled right in front of the door, I got him. Left hand around the mouth, right arm around the neck. He thought he could wriggle out of the whole thing, but man was it easy to drag the little fucker into my apartment and lock the door. He could barely stand up, sniveling like the little weasel he was, but when I took off my mask his face turned from fear to rage.

"I knew it. I knew this is the kind of street trash you are. Is that why the cops are circling the block every five seconds?" I didn't say shit. I just kicked off my J's, and tossed my bag onto the floor. "See, this is why we need border control, so thugs like you can get shipped back to Mexico. Fucking fence jumper." I stripped my hoodie, wouldn't need it for what I was about to do.

"Bruh, you know I'm from fuckin' Colombia. You know that. Racist little pendejo." That little shit scoffed at me. Rolled his eyes as he pulled out his phone. Man, I smacked that shit out his hands real fuckin' quick. "Be a good little cumdump and shut the fuck up. Turn around, bitch!" I spun him around and pushed his bitch ass against the wall, but before I could do what I needed to, that little fucker spat on my face.

"Hope you like Guantanamo, amigo." I was like, nah, fuck this shit. I'm not takin' that from a 5'9 rich, racist gringo. He was gonna be tight as fuck, but I've been in tighter squeezes. I got his pants by the belt loop, and yanked 'em down. He wriggled his ass in my face, as if he was gonna get lucky tonight. Heh, I guess he did. Just like I did back in New Orleans, I squatted down, put my hands together, and in I went with a wet squelch. "What the fuck?!"

I looked at his stretched hole, swallowing my arms up to my fuckin' elbows. I couldn't help but smile as I started to wriggle up into him. His bitchin' quickly turned into moanin', as my arms squeezed up in him, and my head started to sink into the hole. I slithered up inside him, my shoulders, my lats... it got easier as we got down to my waist, enough for my hands to feel inside of his shoulders. I pushed 'em down, my thick arms stretching his skin as I slipped his hands on like gloves. Feelin' the cold drywall beneath his fingers, the sweat pouring from his pores... they were mine now. So as much as I wanted this little fuck to suffer, I was feelin' generous that night. My arms were already in his, so it was easy to just hold the top of his curly haired head and thrust mine up his throat. I could hear his gurgles as he tried to moan in pleasure, but within a couple of seconds, I felt the top of my head pressin' against the roof of his mouth. One more little push, and it gave way. My head slipped into his in the blink of an eye.

I used his hands to tug on his face, makin' sure everything was sittin' where it needed to sit. Didn't wanna be lookin' like the bug guy from Men in Black, you know what I'm sayin'? Took a minute, had to shove my tongue into his, make sure my eyes lined up, get my ears inside his; feelin' my hoops rip through his skin, I opened my new mouth and breathed in. Man, I had to smile, lickin' his lips and lookin' down. Fuck I'm glad his arms stretched enough for mine, the lil' cocksucker needed a bit of meat on him. My pecs filled out his skinny lil' chest, my ink already seepin' up to the surface of his skin. But at that point he looked like a puppet, man. I'm up in the top half, but my ass and legs are stickin' out his hole.

I flexed my abs, feelin my fat ass squeezin' in, my cock and balls slurpin' in... Bro, his twiggy little butt got big real fuckin' quick when my cheeks inflated into his. My thighs and calves quickly slipped in, only leavin' my big ass feet stickin' out his ass. I smirked with his cocky lil face.

"Aww. I forgot to bathe, bro. My bad." Shit, his voice sounded good on me. Can't imagine he'd be into the feet he complained about stinkin' so fuckin' much squeezin' into his tight lil' body. Not that he was gonna be complainin' anymore, anyway. They were a bit sweaty, so all I had to do was jerk my knees up a bit and in they went. I pushed my legs down into his, watchin' with a big ass smile on my face as I saw my feet beneath his the skin of his tiny lil' legs slippin' down. My toes reached the base of his heel, and just like puttin' on a pair of sneaks, I shoved those big ass puppies up into his. His feet were all wriggly and warpy as they stretched out, but quickly those lil size 8's were my size 13's, ripe stink and all.

I stood up straight, watching as his lower body stretched upward, going from 5'9 to 6'3 as my quads and calves filled his to the fuckin' brim. Man, it was like puttin' on skinny jeans. I don't fuck with that shit, but here we are. The tightest pair of pants ever. I looked at his groin, all fucked up and not aligned. I smirked, my favorite part. I grabbed his cock, pulling it out as far as it would stretch, farther than it should stretch; just enough for me to push my cockhead to the base of his shaft. Bruh, when I tell you it's like slippin' your babymaker into a fleshlight, I fuckin' mean it. I got hard right then and there, bro. As my big meaty cock pushed into his, it got thicker as it went further, slurpin' into the little cocksleeve it was, until my musky 9 incher had completely filled his. Tuggin' a bit more on his dick skin to gimme my foreskin back. One final snap of the skin, and a bit of ball shufflin' and I was fuckin' in.

*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK* "Police, open up!" I turned, smirkin'. Too late, porkers. I picked up my black hoodie, slippin' it on over his torso, pulled on some sweatpants and slipped my big puppies back into my J's. I walked over to the door, and swung it wide with a grin on my face. Two cops were outside, starin' me down with confusion. "Uh, good evening, sir. Is this Thiago Zapata's domicile?" I pretended to be all confused, cockin' my head a bit.

"Uh, yeah, man. I'm watchin' it while he's gone. He said he was gonna be in Cartagena for a couple of weeks or whatever. I'm the neighbor." The dumbasses just nodded, scribblin' in their dumb lil' notepads.

"And what's your name, sir? First and last, please." Not a moment too soon, I felt his memories start to slink into my head. I smirked.

"Chase Hightower. I live with my boyfriend in 2C, next door." They wasted like fifteen more minutes gettin' all up in my business, askin' all their questions... I just smiled and nodded, using Chase's memories to give them all the answers they were looking for. Finally they gave up trying to get in, sayin' they were gonna get a warrant or whatever. "That's totally fine, bro. I'll be next door whenever it comes through. Oh, and I just gotta say, Thiago's a good dude. Real nice guy, fine as fuck too. Gotta be some kind of mistake." I had to throw that in, this little shit would be tellin' them all sorts of fake shit about me, none of it good. But as they stomped off, I closed the door and threw my fist up in the air. "FUCK YEAH! NICE TRY MOTHERFUCKERS!" I collapsed onto my couch, takin' a breather before his most recent memories started to get clearer. Aidan was sitting next door, waiting for him to show up.

I had to keep up appearances, after all. So I just grabbed a couple of my things: clothes n' shit, all my kicks, my weed and papers, some cash, and a couple of condoms. Chase was a good lookin' kid before, but with me in there, I'm gonna have girls slobberin' all over this dick! Hah! I got it all in a couple of bags, picked up his phone I'd swatted to the ground, and headed over to Chase's apartment. I opened the door and the place was fuckin' immaculate man. Clean, fancy furniture, smellin' like Febreeze... Damn, we'll see how long this takes to fuck up.

"CHASE!" I turned, seeing Aidan with his arms crossed, tappin' his foot on the kitchen floor. He was fuckin' pissed. "Where in the fuck have you been? There's cops everywhere!" The cops may not have known Chase, but Aidan sure as fuck did. I had to really use his memories to play it off, but man, I'm always slippin' through the mask.

"Ahh, babe. It's my bad. Got stuck in traffic or... whatever. I'm so..." A memory surfaced then and there. The memory of why Chase was so late that night, of why he came home late every fuckin' Saturday night. It was fuzzy at first, but as it got clearer, I saw him fuckin' some dude raw across town. Every weekend, steppin' out on this poor kid, just to dump his load into some lil twink and come home to pretend nothin' was wrong. Fuck, this guy was shit. "I'm... sorry. Won't happen again, babe. I promise you that."

Right off the bat, I knew he saw something was wrong. I don't know if it was delayed reaction, or if he was just so fuckin' pissed he didn't see it at first... But he definitely saw it then. His boy wasn't over 6'0 before. His boy wasn't dressin' in black hoodies and Jordans. His boy wasn't stacked from hours every day at the gym. But now... he was.

"You look off. What have you been doing? Are you on steroids?" I kept searching through Chase's memories to find something to use to diffuse a very pissed off Aidan. Eventually, I found it. I smirked, leaning my arm against the wall and crossing my ankles.

"What, babe? You liking what you're seein'? You been askin' for me to play bad boy for months now, well tonight's your night, bro." His demeanor immediately shifted from rage to nervousness. "Yeah, just like Thiago next door, right? You love it when he gets home all sweaty and jacked, smellin' like a locker room. You like it when you hear him poundin' babes all night long on the other side of the wall. You wanted him to step on your face and make you lick his feet and suck his big smelly cock..." I groped my bulge through the sweats, watching as his eyes went down to my throbbin' package. The kid was sweet, man he had a thing for me. Little did he know he had the real deal in front of him.

"I... Why now? You said he was dirty and disgusting and you'd never be like him..." I grinned, pushin' off the wall to strut over to him. He leaned against the counter as I put my arms on either side of him, pushing my new body right up against his. I could feel his lil' cock throbbin' against mine. It was... I don't know, man, it was cute the way he was blushin' lookin' at me.

"Yeah, maybe I like dirty and nasty, now. 'Cuz I know you like dirty and nasty..." I put my hand on his bulge, squeezing rough. He moaned, lettin' out a soft whimper. "Yeah, babe. How's bout you let Thiago take care of you tonight, babe. Go to the bedroom and strip for me." He sat there for a second, I guess he was thinkin' or whatever, but it didn't take long for a smile to show up and for him to run into the bedroom. I couldn't help but laugh, bro. It was so cute. There's somethin' so feminine about the guy, kinda reminds me of my ex. I guess guys could be femme too, maybe I could get with that. Fuck, why not. I was like, I'm gonna be in here for a long time, might as well get some tail in while I'm here.

I walked into the bathroom, pullin' off my sweatshirt and lookin' into the mirror for the first time. The chest ink is all done, his skin forever gonna be branded with my tatts. I pull out his phone, typing in my bro's number with the crew. I snap a pic of my sweaty, sexy new gringo bod, and send it to him.

"Layin' low for a minute, O. Pigs got me all fucked up. Still down for jobs, tho." I smirked, pressin' send, and walkin' out into the dark bedroom. Aidan was bare-ass naked, his legs up in the air and a surprisingly juicy lil' ass beggin for this dick. His hole puckered as he whimpered for it. Man, somethin' snapped in me that night, bro. It just looked so fuckin' nice... such a perfect, tight lil cum dump... and he was literally beggin' for it. I growled as I pushed my sweats to the ground, my briefs fallin' with them. Struttin' over to him, my J's squeakin' on the wood floors, I'm just ready to stick that drippin' musky rod inside him before he chirps up.

"Wait..." I look down at him, leaning over the top of him with a wolfish grin. "Can we... can we do the thing..." I knew exactly what he was talkin' about. Chase was such a fuckin' prude he'd never do it for the kid, but with me in the driver's seat, this thirsty lil guy was gonna get a whole new side of his man. I grinned as I pulled off one of my Jordans, holding it just below my face to take a quick sniff. Man, I'd been runnin' in these all night, liftin' in these every day, it stank of my ripe ass feet, and he'd been dreamin' of that funk ever since I moved in.

I slammed the sneaker down over his nose, spitting on my pre-slicked cock before thrusting my length into his puckering hole. I fucked that kid hard, just like I'd fucked Lizzie, Aisha, Carmen, & Mina. He moaned and sniffed over and over again as I slipped in and out of his hole. Aidan was a thirsty lil twink, he wanted a hard masculine guy to fuck him like a toy, and Chase just wasn't up for the fuckin' job. But man, feelin' my slimy dick ramming into his tight ass was like fuckin' the tightest pussy I've ever had. He was better than the last two weeks of girls combined. His hand took over holding the sneaker on his face, lettin' me grab ahold of his lil' dick and pump. I guess my sweaty hands were doin' it for him, as his moans got louder. He started thrustin' into my palms as I fucked him silly.

"Yeah, babe. You been wantin' Thiago's smelly dick all up inside you haven't you?" *Slap* *Slap* *Slap* "Ahh fuck yeah, babe. Let me take care of you, babe." *Slap* *Slap* *Slap* I felt my balls start to quake, feelin' my knees get all wobbly... It was comin' "Fuck yeah, you want this load inside you, baby?" He whimpered nose deep in my sneaker, I could hear him groaning a quiet 'mmmmhmmmm'. That's all I ever need to hear, baby. I only ever need a yes.

"AaaaaaaaAGH!" I felt my balls jolt, and my load went bursting into him. Once, Twice, Three times, Four times, Five times... just wave after wave of my splooge just rushin' into that twink ass. Fuck! I hadn't cum like that before. Ever! Dribblin' off at 7 shots of my batter deep into him, and he shot his own lil load onto my hand. I kept strokin, grinning from ear to ear hearin' his whiny ass gettin' all 'ahhhhhhh' and 'oooooooooooo'... Hah! Damn, the kid was a natural. I pulled my snake out of him, my load drippin' out of his gaping hole.

I fell onto the bed next to him, panting and sighing. I turned my head, laughin' seein my sneaker still sittin' upside down on his face. Pulling it off, I got to see his smiling face, glistening with sweat. For my first time with a dude, Aidan gave a lot of girls a run for their money. He turned to me, chuckling under his panting breath. Wantin' to give him a bit of a show, I brought the Jordan to my nose, takin' a quick whiff and sighing in satisfaction. Ripe n' funky, but if it does it for ya, you can get as much as you want. Dropping it on the floor, I could tell he was still shocked.

"What happened to you?" He smiled and laughed, and I felt myself grinning from his happy little laughs.

"I'm a new man for you, babe. I can stick around if you want?" I winked at him, and he smiled; nodding and cuddlin' up against my sweaty muscles. I hadn't done what they call 'aftercare' before, but I learned a lot that night. Aidan likes to be all snuggled up, sweet and complimentary, talkin' about his day and what he was thinking and feeling... It was different, and honestly kinda nice. Maybe this wouldn't be as much of a fuckin' drag as I thought it would be. I turned to the nightstand, seein' my phone light up and vibrate. Omarion.

I picked it up as he started to nod off, seein' that my bro had texted back. Opening the text, it was just a location and a time. I knew what that meant. Tomorrow night, meetin' up at the docks. I nodded and put the phone onto the charger, and started gettin' to puttin' my stuff into my new closet.

---

I woke up the next morning, the smell of cum still hangin' in the air. I stretched and sighed, winkin' at myself in the mirror before hoppin up to my feet. I went into the living room, seein' the balcony door open. I smiled, seein' a memory of Aidan drinkin' his coffee out there on the couch. So, I went and got him a glass of his cold brew, and walked out there, seein' him quietly reading a book. I looked at him and immediately saw he was decked out in my threads: my tank, my jeans, my chucks, my chains... and honestly it looked good on him.

"What you doin' out here without your coffee?" He looked up from his book, and smiled.

"You never bring me my coffee! Thanks, Chase!" I grinned hearing that name, handing him his cold brew and plopping down on the seat across from him. He sipped it, tossing it back like a bachelorette downing tequila shots. He smacked his lips and hummed, but looked up at me with a weird look. "Last night was hot as fuck."

"Yeah, baby. It was hot. You got real into it, bro." He raised his eyebrow a bit, putting his drink down on the balcony ledge.

"What happened to you? You never answered me last night. What's changed?" He waved his hand up and down, pointin' at my chest, my arms, my abs, my feet, my height... "You did not look like this yesterday morning." I sat there for a second, thinkin' about what the fuck I was gonna say. I couldn't tell him, of course. But I needed a better answer than 'oh, I'm using your boyfriend's body as a disguise to hide from the cops.'

"I can tell you if you really wanna know, babe. Or, I could just show you. But, gimme a day or so." He looked at me for what seemed like a long ass time, but in the end, he smiled and nodded.

"Tomorrow morning, Chase. One day to explain." Bullet dodged. For now, at least. I now had a day to figure out what to do. The guy was like, a genuinely good dude. I'm not gonna fuck the kid over, or slip out of his boyfriend to show him he got his wish havin' the Colombian Neighbor fuck him. "Anyway, it's Sunday. And I got you for the whole day." He grinned, rubbing his hand on my thigh.

For the next ten hours, it was like hanging out with one of my bros. Playin' video games, cookin' food, I even got the little guy to take a rip from the bong. He was hackin' up a lung, and I laughed my ass off, but fuck is Aidan a good dude to kick back with. I was really starting to dig him; the vibes were on point, he's funny as fuck, interested in cool things... The more time I spent with him, the more I really liked the guy. If anything, it made me that much more fuckin' pissed that a racist little fuck like Chase was steppin' out on him behind his back. This is the kind of dude you have at home, and you're puttin' your dick in someone else? Like, far be it for me to have much to say about serial fuckin', but Aidan didn't deserve that. At all.

I decided then and there, as long as I was pilotin' Chase, he was gonna be the man that Aidan had always wanted, and the man he deserved. It wasn't even gonna be that hard, man. Just bein' myself, the vibes were electric. Maybe I'm not as straight as I thought. Laughin', puttin' my arm around him as he played Legend of Zelda or whatever, I don't know it just felt right. So by the time the sun went down, it felt like it had only been twenty minutes. I looked up at the clock on the oven, seein' it sayin' that it was almost 9 PM.

"Hey, babe. I'm gonna run to the store, you want me to get you anything?" He barely looked up from the game, just turnin' his head a little bit.

"Ice cream. Pistachio. Love you." I laughed, ruffling his blonde locks before hoppin' up, and slippin' my J's back on. I made sure his eyes were plastered on the screen before slipping heat into my pants, and headed toward the door.

"Be right back, bro." He just waved behind him, not so much as glancin' at me. I snickered, and felt the butterflies in my stomach flutterin' around. Fuck, I was gettin' in deep. I opened the door, and made my way out into the hall. The police had tape all around my old apartment, doin' all their searches and fingerprintin'. Fuckin' fools. I turned and walked down the steps, grinning from ear to ear.

---

The docks were empty at that time of night, no one's around past 8. So walking straight up to warehouse 7 was a breeze. I reached in through the broken glass on the door, turning the knob from the inside and walkin' in. The blue lights were barely lighting anything, but in the far side of the empty room, I saw my boy smokin' his blunt. Still decked out in his diamonds and gold.

"Bruh, I gotta tell you. I ain't been a gay before, but this shit ain't too bad!" He looked up at me, nearly bursting into laughter at the gringo struttin' up in my clothes.

"Fuck, bro! Now I know that ain't Thiago up in that white boy." I smirked, bowing like the drama queen Chase used to be before slappin' Omarion on the shoulder.

"The one and only, bro. Pretty wild, right?" He laughed, passing me the blunt. I took a quick hit, lettin' out the rings I'm known for in our crew. That seemed to set his questions at ease.

"Motherfucker that is you! I'm out here dodgin' feds and pigs right and left, and you're over there squeezin' into fags." That word hit differently now, I felt my smile fade the moment it left his lips.

"Yeah, man. Snatched this little racist homewrecker in the hall. His boyfriends pretty tight, though."

"Him or his hole?" Omarion started to laugh, and I couldn't stop myself from shoving him against the wall. I'd caught him off guard, puttin' my arm against his neck.

"Don't be talkin' about him like that. Aidan's alright. Got it?" Omarion snickered, and then burst out laughing.

"Bruh, you in deep with this. Aight, aight! I ain't got nothin' against the gays, man. You know that." I let him off the wall, steppin back before taking another hit off the blunt. "So..." He awkwardly muttered. "Got a little hidey-hole for me?"

I turned to him, lettin' out a cloud of smoke in his face. No way I was gonna put up Aidan as his personal safe house. But thinking about it for just a second, a smirk crawled across my face. Perhaps that little shit Chase had been fuckin' on the side may come in handy after all.

[migue-gj]