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[swapsrus]

[swapsrus]

[swapsrus]

Clarkpb01

[swapsrus]

Switched Up

Max Parker had always been the nerdy kid—the one who spent his time coding, reading comics, and staying out of the way of guys like Jake Walker, the star quarterback. Jake, on the other hand, was the definition of a high school jock—muscular, confident, and a little too cocky for his own good.

But everything changed when they woke up in the wrong bodies.

Max jolted upright, feeling strangely… powerful. His reflection in the mirror made his jaw drop. He was in Asher Angel’s body—tall, athletic, and famous. His once scrawny frame was gone, replaced by defined muscles and a face people actually recognized.

“This is insane,” Max whispered, flexing his biceps. “I look like a superhero.”

Jake, meanwhile, was having the opposite reaction. He groaned, pushing himself up and immediately feeling… weaker? He looked down at his arms—lean, toned, but nowhere near the bulk he was used to. His reflection showed Avi Angel’s face staring back at him.

“Oh, hell no,” Jake muttered, scowling. “What kind of prank is this?”

They didn’t know what had happened or how, but they both had the same instinct—to find the other and fix this mess.

When they met up, things got confusing fast.

Max, still marveling at his new body, recognized Jake instantly—but he wasn’t expecting what came next.

“Avi?” Max asked, blinking.

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Asher?”

Max sighed in relief. “Oh, good, it’s actually you, Avi.”

Jake crossed his arms. “Wait… you’re not Asher?”

Max shook his head. “No, dude, it’s me, Max! You’re not really Avi, are you?”

Jake groaned. “Oh, great. This just got even weirder.”

Both boys realized the truth—they were stuck in celebrity bodies, and no one else seemed to notice. While Max was geeking out over his newfound fame and strength, Jake was struggling to accept his leaner build.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Jake grumbled, “but I actually miss my real body.”

Max grinned, flexing again. “Yeah, well… I don’t.”

[swapsrus]

Switched Up (Part 2)

After the confusing conversation, Max and Jake decided to head to their respective rooms—well, Asher and Avi’s rooms—to process the situation.

Max in Asher’s Body

Max closed the door behind him, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His heart pounded with excitement. He was really Asher Angel.

“Okay… this is unreal,” he muttered, running a hand through his thick, wavy hair. His usual glasses were gone—not that he needed them anymore. His skin was perfect, his jawline sharp, and his arms? Way more defined than anything he had before.

He lifted his shirt, revealing toned abs.

“Oh, man… this is next-level.”

Max struck a few poses in the mirror, flexing and admiring how effortlessly cool he looked. He even tried smiling like he had seen Asher do in photos. It felt natural.

Then, curiosity got the best of him. He pulled out Asher’s phone from his pocket. A flood of notifications popped up—texts from famous people, Instagram DMs, and… hundreds of thousands of followers.

“This is insane,” he whispered.

The more he scrolled, the more he got sucked into the celebrity life. Was this really his for now? Could he actually live as Asher Angel? The thought excited him more than he wanted to admit.

Jake in Avi’s Body

Meanwhile, in Avi’s room, Jake was having the opposite reaction. He had thrown off his shirt, examining his new body in the mirror with a mixture of confusion and disappointment.

“This is… weird,” he muttered, flexing his arms.

Sure, he was still in shape, but it wasn’t the broad-shouldered, thick-muscled build he was used to. Avi’s body was lean, more like a dancer or a runner. It wasn’t bad—just… not him.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, scowling. Even his face was different—sharper, less rugged.

Jake sighed, flopping onto the bed. “Great. I go from quarterback to looking like a boy band member.”

He picked up Avi’s phone, checking through the apps. Unlike Asher’s, Avi’s notifications weren’t blowing up as much. Still, there were a few messages from friends and fans.

Jake groaned, rubbing his face. “How the hell do we fix this?”

As much as he hated to admit it, Max seemed way too happy about the switch. And that worried him. Because if Max wasn’t in a rush to switch back…

He might be stuck like this for a while.

[swapsrus]

entranced charles

Charles sat alone in the dimly lit Ferrari meeting room, the only sound the faint hum of the air conditioning and the rhythmic clicking of his fingers against the keyboard. His red racing suit hung loosely around his waist, the upper half bunched at his hips, revealing the tight, sweat-dampened Nomex shirt clinging to his torso. The day had been brutal—another frustrating qualifying session where the car refused to cooperate. He exhaled sharply, rubbing at his tired eyes, trying to make sense of the telemetry data glowing on the screen.

Then, without warning, the monitor flickered.

Charles frowned, fingers pausing mid-air. The screen went black.

He let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. Of all the times for the system to fail… He ran a hand through his damp hair, forcing himself to stay patient.

Just as abruptly, the screen blinked back to life—but the data was gone. Instead, a swirling pattern of vivid colors spiraled hypnotically in front of him. Reds, blues, yellows, and greens coalesced, twisting and turning in an endless, mesmerizing dance.

Charles blinked.

A strange warmth seeped through his body. His breath slowed, his muscles loosening despite the exhaustion weighing on him. His hand drifted absently across his chest, fingertips tracing over the fabric of his undershirt. His head tilted slightly as his eyes followed the spiral’s gentle motion. It was... soothing. Comforting.

A firm yet familiar hand settled on his shoulder.

“Good boy.”

The deep voice sent a subtle shiver down his spine.

Charles barely registered the presence of the man now beside him, clad in Ferrari mechanic gear. His touch was steady, grounding, yet something about it made Charles’ mind feel hazy, compliant.

“Just watch,” the voice instructed, calm and sure. “And feel.”

Charles’ breath hitched as the colors pulsed on the screen, each revolution pulling him deeper into its mesmerizing rhythm. The warmth that had started in his chest spread through his limbs, leaving them heavy, relaxed. His fingers, once idly tracing patterns across his damp Nomex, now lay still against his torso. His mind, sharp and analytical mere moments ago, softened like melting wax.

The hand on his shoulder squeezed gently, grounding him in the moment, yet tethering him to something… deeper. Something undeniable.

"Good boy," the voice murmured again, closer now.

Charles blinked sluggishly, his lips parting as if to protest, but no words came. The colors swirled, tugging at his thoughts, smoothing them away like tire marks vanishing under fresh rubber. He should be questioning this. He should be fighting it. And yet…

His body betrayed him, exhaling a slow, shuddering sigh as his head tilted ever so slightly toward the warmth of the stranger's touch.

"That’s it," the man murmured, his thumb stroking the curve of Charles’ shoulder through the fabric of his tight undershirt.

"Just let go. Let it spin. Let it take you where you're supposed to be."

A ripple of pleasure coursed through Charles' spine, and he exhaled again, eyes fluttering but never straying from the spiral. The voice, low and steady, was laced with something undeniable—control.

His muscles loosened, his will bending like aerodynamics against the wind. He barely registered when his lips moved on their own, his voice a whisper.

"Yes… good boy."

"Feel it," the man murmured, his fingers pressing firmly into Charles’ shoulder, grounding him even as his mind drifted. "Good boy. So easy to obey."

Heat pooled in his core, radiating outward, wrapping around him like the tight grip of G-forces through a fast corner. His muscles clenched, his breath shuddered, and the warmth swelled—higher, deeper—until it threatened to swallowed him whole.

Charles whimpered, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps as he fought against the inevitable. The warmth was unbearable now, surging through him in waves, each one stronger than the last. His fingers trembled where they pressed against his stomach, feeling the unmistakable heat radiating through the fabric of his Nomex.

“No…” he whispered, eyelids fluttering, his body caught between resistance and surrender. He tried—tried to will it back, to hold himself together, to maintain even the smallest shred of control. But the spiral spun on, and the man’s voice wrapped around him like silk, coaxing, commanding.

"Shhh… no need to fight it," the man murmured, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles into Charles’ shoulder. "Just feel it. Let go. Let it happen."

Charles shuddered, his thighs pressing together, his muscles clenching in one last desperate attempt at restraint. But the warmth inside him swelled, consuming, overwhelming. And then—A sharp gasp.

A broken sigh.

His fingers instinctively gripped into his racing suit, feeling his hard cock twitching underneath the fabric. And then, he felt it.

The release.

The surrender.

His body trembled violently as the final wave crashed over him, tearing away the last of his resolve. The wetness spread, darkening the red of his suit where his hand pressed against himself. He squirmed, his breath ragged, his entire body betraying him.

The man chuckled, the sound low and knowing. "Good boy," he praised, his grip tightening just enough to make Charles shiver. "That’s it. That’s exactly what I wanted."

Charles barely heard him, his mind floating in the haze of surrender. The spiral still spun, and he could do nothing but watch.

His breath had evened out, not quite steady, not quite ragged—just caught in the rhythm of something far beyond his control. The warmth that had started as a subtle hum in his chest had spread through his limbs, his mind, his very core. It wasn’t heat from exhaustion anymore; it was something deeper, something seeping into his bones.

The hand on his shoulder was an anchor, firm and grounding, yet guiding him further into the abyss of surrender.

"You feel it, don’t you?" The voice was smooth, rich, carrying the weight of certainty.

Charles exhaled slowly, his lips parting, but words no longer came easily. His thoughts were soft, pliable, distant. The numbers, the data, the frustrations of the day—all had melted away, leaving only sensation. The spiral. The voice. The warmth.

"Good boy," the man murmured, the praise sinking into Charles like a stone dropped into still water, rippling through his body.

Something inside him shivered, not with fear, not with doubt, but with recognition. The words felt right. The surrender felt right.

His muscles had lost their tension; his body no longer held its usual sharpness, the precision of a racer constantly wired for control. His fingers, which had once hovered over the keyboard, clenching in frustration, now lay slack. His legs felt heavy. His head lolled slightly to the side, just enough to acknowledge the presence behind him.

"That’s it," the voice coaxed, a whisper against his ear. "Just let it happen. Let yourself drift."

Drift.

Yes.

His eyelids fluttered, his pupils blown wide as he stared, transfixed, into the endless spiral. The colors pulsed in time with his breath, in time with the slow, rhythmic beat of submission settling deep inside him. His lips parted, a thin line of saliva escaping before he even realized it. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care. There was no need.

All that mattered was the warmth. The voice. The surrender.

The screen went dark.

Charles barely noticed at first. His mind was still spinning, still lost in the afterimage of the spiral, as if it had burned itself into the depths of his consciousness. He felt weightless, floating in the heavy, intoxicating haze of surrender.

Strong hands gripped the arms of his chair and turned him slowly. The world shifted around him, but he barely registered it. His body felt too heavy, too loose, too utterly gone to react.

"Look at you," the voice murmured, rich with satisfaction.

A hand traced along his flushed cheek, fingertips brushing his temple, down to the line of his jaw. The touch was deliberate, possessive. Charles’ lips parted slightly, his breath slow, deep, unfocused. His racing suit clung to him, damp, evidence of his surrender darkening the fabric between his thighs. His Nomex shirt, soaked with sweat, molded to his chest, every rise and fall of his breathing visible.

The man tilted Charles’ chin up with a single finger. His gaze remained unfocused, glassy, half-lidded in a way that made it clear—he wasn’t really here anymore.

"Good boy," the man praised, his voice smooth, indulgent. His thumb ghosted over Charles’ lower lip, pressing lightly, testing.

A slow, shuddering exhale was all Charles could manage. His body was no longer his own. His thoughts were gone, scattered, leaving only warmth, weight, and the deep, unshakable need to listen. To obey.

The man’s fingers trailed lower, running down the column of Charles’ throat, feeling the slow, steady rhythm of his pulse beneath his skin. Every muscle in his body had given up its fight, leaving him utterly pliant, waiting.

"You feel it, don’t you?" the man murmured, leaning in just slightly, voice brushing against Charles’ ear. "That quiet. That stillness. No need to think anymore. No need to fight."

Charles gave the faintest nod, his movements sluggish, barely there. His body was heavy, his limbs boneless, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

"Good," the man whispered. "Because this? This is exactly where you belong."

Charles sighed, a dreamy, mindless sound. His head lolled slightly into the touch, his body instinctively seeking it.

Charles barely registered the moment he was pulled from the chair, his legs unsteady, his body weak with the lingering weight of surrender. Strong arms wrapped around him, holding him up, pressing him close. He sank into the warmth instinctively, his cheek resting against the firm shoulder in front of him.

"Shhh," the voice soothed, fingers stroking through his damp hair, down the curve of his spine. "Good boy. It's been a lot today, hasn’t it?"

Charles exhaled slowly, his body melting further into the embrace, held up only by the arms securing him. His mind drifted, soft and unfocused, lost somewhere between awareness and the blissful nothingness that had overtaken him.

"You’re safe now," the voice murmured. "No need to think. No need to do anything. Just be."

A slow, dreamy sigh escaped him. His hands twitched at his sides before one of them slid down absently, fingers brushing over the wet fabric clinging to his thighs. His touch was light, wondering, as if some part of him still struggled to understand.

"Me… good?" he slurred, the words slipping out without thought. His fingers remained there, pressed against the evidence of his surrender, but he made no effort to move them. He simply existed in the moment, suspended in the warmth, the praise, the weightlessness of obedience.

A quiet chuckle. A hand in his hair, stroking, grounding him further in the safety of the embrace.

"Yeah, that’s right," the man confirmed, his tone rich with approval. "You did good. Just let it all out. No need to hold anything back."

Charles sighed again, his entire body slack, pliant. His head tilted further into the touch, craving more of it, more of the reassurance, the grounding sensation of being held, of being kept.

The remnants of his thoughts flickered, distant and faint, but they no longer mattered. There was no pressure to analyze, to fight, to push forward. There was only this—warmth, safety, and the quiet hum of belonging settling deep into his bones.

“Good,” the man murmured, voice low, deliberate. His hand stroked slow circles against Charles’s back, reinforcing the comfort, the safety, the control. “Just like that. No resistance. No hesitation.”

Charles let out a slow, shuddering breath, his mind sinking deeper, softer, lighter. The warmth of the man’s voice wrapped around him, curling through his consciousness, settling into place like it belonged there.

“That’s how it should be,” the voice continued, smooth and steady, weaving itself deeper. “Obedience is easy. It’s natural. You don’t even have to think about it.”

Charles barely processed the words, but his body responded anyway. His breathing slowed, his muscles slackened, every part of him yielding effortlessly.

A hand stroked through his hair. “And now, Charles… whenever you hear the word fall, you’ll feel yourself slipping, just like this. That warm, floating feeling, spreading all through you. Every time. Deeper and deeper.”

The word barely registered, but something in him felt it. A shiver passed through him, subtle but undeniable, like an echo of the warmth already pooling inside him. His mind was so quiet, so open.

“Good boy,” the man praised, and Charles sighed, melting further.

His own hands twitched at his sides, restless, seeking. Without thinking, they lifted, drifting over his chest, his fingers skimming across the damp fabric clinging to him. His breath hitched, something inside him tightening—straining—but the thought never fully formed. There was no need for thought. Just sensation. Just warmth.

A soft, breathy giggle slipped past his lips, light and airy. “Fall,” he echoed, his voice distant, dreamy, as if the word itself pulled him under even further.

The man chuckled, the sound rich with approval. “That’s right.” His hand pressed firmer at the base of Charles’s skull, anchoring him in the moment. “You don’t even realize how deep you’re going, do you?”

Charles giggled again, the sound sweet, hazy. His fingers curled against his suit, pressing absently, feeling the warmth spreading, the wetness seeping through. It should have mattered. Should have been something to think about.

But thought was far away.

All that mattered was the voice. The touch. The way the word sank into him, settling deeper with every repetition.

The man’s lips brushed his temple, a final reinforcement. “That’s my good boy.”

And Charles?

He only sighed, letting go completely.

[swapsrus]

Rugby Player

I love all sports. I try to collect someone for every sport. Here’s my rugby bodysuit. He’s young, but he still gets the job done. When I saw his powerful legs, I knew I was going to make an addition to my collection.

[swapsrus]

“Damn he’s so tight” Tyler said to his step brother Lewis who just walked into the room, while lounging on the couch in only his underwear admiring his body

“God Mike! this isn’t funny anymore, you need to get out of him” Lewis said to Tyler annoyed

“What? fuuuck nooo! He feels to good. Why would I ever want to leave? I like it in here” he cooed in his deep jock voice

“But it’s not yours! It’s Tyler’s, and this was only supposed to be a one day thing to embarrass him! But you’re starting to take things to far! Get out!

“Common man it’s still me in here, Mike, your best friend remember? Do you really want your big jerk oaf of a step brother back when you can have me be him? He doesn’t deserve this body anyways”

“It just feels wrong, I mean you’re using his body as a plaything, barely wearing anything, every time you see his reflection you basically fuck yourself, and you keep hitting on his teammates and other hunks when he’s straighter than a fucking arrow”

“God dude I’m just having some fun, what’s next do you want me to put on a fucking shirt hehe. He was a fucking jerk anyways, why should he have his body back? And don’t act like i haven’t seen you eye fuck me as I worship my body infront of the mirror. Admit it you like me in him” his words cut, and deep down Lewis knew they were true.

“What the hell are you talking about?? N-no you’re crazy for even saying that”

“Fine, deny it. But don’t forget I’m the one who cast the spell, so you can either enjoy this or leave me alone to enjoy Tyler’s body” the way that mike was presenting Tyler’s body, splayed on the couch, a smirk on his face, how could Lewis refuse this invitation?

“You…you can’t be serious man…fine…but just this once, then you need to get out”

“I’m not making any promises…bro”

[swapsrus]

Twin Swaps, Caleb/Nathan Part 2

Caleb shut the apartment door behind him, letting out a deep breath as he tossed Nathan’s car keys onto the counter. The dinner had gone fine—just a bunch of forced smiles, passive-aggressive comments, and overpriced food. Now, he was finally alone, free to actually feel out this body without playing a role.

He glanced around—Logan wasn’t home. Not surprising, since he had his own swap for the next two weeks. That left Caleb with the place to himself.

His muscles ached from sitting stiffly through dinner, so he made his way to his bedroom, already reaching for the hem of his shirt. He flicked on the light, and as soon as he caught his reflection in the mirror, he had to pause. Damn. He’d seen Nathan’s body in photos before swapping, but seeing it move with his thoughts, his control—it was different.

He smirked, rolling his shoulders, feeling how thick and heavy they were. His arms bulged with definition, and his pecs pushed slightly against the fabric of his shirt. His thighs filled out his boxers pants in a way that felt dense, more powerful than he was used to.

Shaking his head, he stripped completely, running a hand down his solid chest. His skin was smooth, tanned, the muscles underneath firm. He turned slightly, watching how his broad back flexed in the mirror, then snorted. No wonder this guy is so cocky.

Wrapping a towel around himself, he made his way to the bathroom to take a shower. The warmth of the bathroom was already making him sweat, so he dropped the towel and got right in the shower. The cooling sensation of the water hit, and immediately, a deep sigh escaped him. The heat soaked into his muscles, easing the tension from the night. He ran his hands over his arms, feeling out the sheer size of them, then down his stomach, where his abs weren’t quite cut but still solid.

Caleb let his head fall back, letting the water wash over him. If he was stuck in Nathan’s body until the morning, he might as well make the most of it.

[swapsrus]

My Step Brother

My dad got remarried about 5 years after my mom passed. My stepmother is cool. She had a son from a first marriage, we are the same age. A few days apart. Since my father adopted him, we both have the same last name. We are also in the same grade of school. And a few classes together.

So it like people see as twins. But we are not.

Long story short. He better looking. Better at sports and very popular.

For me I am just average. Kind a plain next to him. I don't know why most see me as a outcast. They want to hang with him and not me.

And it seems nobody notices it but me. I'm the one who's always alone.

So many times I wish I was my stepbrother.

Our father buys buildings and redevelops them. One day him and I tagged along.

We went to explore the building as my father talked to the guy who sold it to him.

Be careful bro don't get your clothes all dirty.

Our father left with the guy leaving us there that explore the building freely you said you'd be back in like 2 or 3 hours.

So we pretty much made use of our tim

My stepbrother quickly grabbed his backpack and stripped down to get some sun up them roof. I said I grabbed on my Coke and I'll be right up.

I returned and handed it to him was pretty warm out so he'd checked it down pretty fast. You sleep now bro. I've been pointing this for some time.

I grabbed him carried him inside. Tossed him on the floor and stripped him down. Then myself. There's my beautiful stepbrother laying naked on the floor. Totally helpless.

I said I'm upright and hit his head drop back so I could pour this vile down his throat. Messaging it to make sure all of it went down. That I drank another one myself.

We both laid there naked on the floor until it took effect.

It was amazing all his muscles turned soft and skushy. This pecs were filling with fluid. His cock and balls swollen.

The same was happening to me.

I climbed on top of my stepbrother and started drinking from his pictorial muscles. Draining all of the milky white substance from his pecs. Watching this muscular lane body starting the flat out. I moved my way down to a swollen cock. As soon as my lips touched it he started draining all of his essence into me. Shrinking down smaller and smaller one is body I could feel as muscular form searching through myself.

Once I drained him dry I got him prepared to take on my essence. I rolled a mine inside, i shove my dick in his mouth. Seem like quite 2nd nature for him so I can't have a feeling I know what hes been doing with some of his friends. Watching them drain my cock and balls sack dry.

I positioned him so you get to my pectorial muscles. Just like I did to him I had him do to me draining my pecks of all the juice inside. His essence was not completely inside me and mine was inside him we laid there on the floor for some time.

I could feel my muscles expanding and contracting bones crackis my body reshaped into that of my stepbrothers. I could hear him moaning This body did the same taking on my image.

When I was able to move again I went over Tom chip his head back and put my mouth over his. Threatening the air from his lungs and replacing that with the air that was in mind. Bring an amazing surge to my system and I'm sure to his.

My mind was spinning my life was passing before my eyes. Being replaced by that of my stepbrother. He was becoming me and I was becoming him

I laid back a while while waiting the room stopped spinning.

When I awoke I wouldn't got a wet rag from the bathroom and clean this both up. There he was my old body my old life. I dressed him in my old clothes. I can't believe it my stepbrothers now me. I pick him up off the phone and place him in his chair and make it look like you fell asleep.

I just stood there naked in my new leaner muscular physique my more handsome chiseled featured face. . I slipped on his underwear. It didn't take me line to get used to this body.

I better get dressed. That should be returning soon.

Here's the real test. Can I pass for my stepbrother. I have always memories his thoughts. His matterisms are coming natural to me.

I could hear dad cut out from down the staircase. I watched my brother wake up to his father's voice. He called out will be right down.

He adjusted himself and pulled himself together. He looked over at me and then question a thing. We packed up our stuff and headed down stairs.

I couldn't believe I stole my stepbrother's body in life. But Hey he has mine so it's showing at that big of a difference. It's not like I stole the years of his life.

Came back a few days later with our dad the check things out what he had planned for the building.

My plans already have come true. Swapping lives with my stepbrother. Be in the more popular attractive one.

Every time I step into this building I'll think of it that day. How my life became more happier and more full. The day I swept our bodies and lives.

But I treated him a little differently I treated him as a brother and a counterpart not just a stepbrother. So you wouldn't be as depressed as I was I tried to include him in everything . I was doing making him part of the group.

I always wonder when he looking at me as he realized that I stole this body and life from him. He was the more handsome more popular brother. Until I made the swap.

[swapsrus]

Credit to Liamstfstories

“Kick Off Spring Break”

The Ghostly Trio loved nothing more than getting involved in a party. And what better party is there than Spring Break, this year taking place in gorgeous Miami. They eagerly flew down the coastline and eyed the pristine beaches and picturesque cities. Finally they found Miami and headed for the club with the brightest lights and loudest music.

They decided to take the easy route and not draw attention, so they checked the back of the building for anyone trying to sneak in for free. And sure enough, a trio of frat buddies strapped for cash were about to attempt an entry. They were planning quietly behind a dumpster as the eager ghosts quickly went into action.

Stretch flew right up in the middle of the bunch and lustfully stared into Jack’s eyes, the hunk in the rainbow shorts. “Boo! Hello gorgeous, say ah!!,” he cackled as the frightened hunk rested up to scream. Stretch quickly slammed his head against the guy’s mouth as he gasped. His frantic cries were muffled as the slender ghost cackled and his cheeks and throat bulged with ectoplasm.

Stretch shoved his arms and shoulders into his new host as the stud stumbled around, trying to claw at the wiggling tail protruding from his mouth. Meanwhile, Tim, in his slimming black trunks and Freddy in his khaki bottoms and rainbow scarf stumbled back in terror. A bellowing chuckle was heard from above as Fatso flew like a diving rocket towards the other two hunks.

In a split second, the hulking ghost had grabbed onto Freddy’s shoulders to steady himself before ramming his thick head against the petrified stud’s mouth. With a wet pop sound, the head was stuffed in as Freddy groaned, cheeks puffed up and full of ghost so he couldn’t even scream. Fatso was chuckling as he eased his arms and moobs into the sexy guy as he too started stumbling around and tried pointlessly to push at Fatso’a massive gut as it pushed harder to get inside.

Tim was beside himself as he watched helplessly as his buddies were being invaded by ghosts! He was so consumed by terror that he didn’t realize Stinky had quietly snuck up behind his back. The nasty ghost tapped him on the shoulder and as the horrified hunk turned around, Stinky rammed his head into his face.

Tim let out a muffled shriek as he spun fully around and Stinky easily began slithering his crooked, slender body into Tim. By now, Stretch and Stinky has just about gotten inside as their hosts slurped up their tails like spaghetti. Freddy was tighter than Fatso had thought so he was struggling to get the hunk to swallow the last of his bulbous tail. Fortunately Fred stumbled head on into the dumpster.

Fatso’s tail acted as an airbag as he was literally stuffed in Freddy’s tight gut as he and his host let out a combined groan. All three guys were flailing and stumbling around blindly as they fought a losing battle within themselves. The ghosts slide their forms into the hunks like fitting into a nice new suit.

The stumbling dance routine finally slowed and with a satisfying thud from each of their guts, they had won. “Ooo yeeeeeeeeeeeeeah,” Jack sighed out with Stretch’s characteristic accent and smirk as he started rubbing and caressing his new ripped arms. “I haven’t felt this great in ages, I’m so muscled and SWEATY!!!,” Tim giggled in a high-pitched squeaky voice as he lifted his arms and took deep whiffs of his post workout musk.

Freddy was adoring his new set of rock hard abs and he reached around to fondle his perfect bubble butt. “Oh momma, I’m perfect! I don’t want to leave this fleshie, he’s yummy!,” Fatso chuckled in his deep bass voice. He rubbed his abs, feeling like an empty car desperate for gas.

“Well boys, I think these boys had the right idea to sneak into this poppin’ club,” Stretch joked. “Yeah, why should we waste money when fun is what we do best!!,” Stinky giggled. “Let’s just get the party started before we have to leave, I’m itching to test the limits of this hunk!,” Fatso bellowed as the trio turned to the unlocked back door into the pantry and headed off for a night of fun.

[swapsrus]

Twin Swaps, Caleb/Nathan Final Part

Caleb woke up to the unfamiliar weight of Nathan’s body pressing into the mattress. The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting soft shadows across his broad chest. He stretched lazily, feeling the tightness in his muscles, the way his thick arms and solid torso shifted with each movement. Damn, he thought, rubbing a hand over his face, feeling the faint stubble along his jaw.

Pushing himself up, he glanced at his reflection in the full-length mirror across the room. Nathan’s body looked even better in the daylight. His tanned skin, thick pecs, and powerful legs gave him a presence that was hard to ignore. Standing up, he ran a hand down his chest, fingers tracing over the firm muscle, then flexed his arms one last time. If I had this body permanently… He shook the thought off.

Checking his phone, he saw it was almost ten. Time to swap back.

With a sigh, he pulled on a pair of shorts and walked into the living room, when Nathan—still in Caleb’s body—was already knocking on the front door. Nathan opened the door and looked at him with a mixture of awe and hesitation.

“Gotta admit,” Nathan said, shaking his head as he entered the apartment. “That was insane. You get used to it?”

Caleb smirked. “You learn to roll with it.” He stretched again, flexing his arms instinctively. “You got your money’s worth, trust me.”

Nathan let out a short laugh before rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh… thanks. My dad actually didn’t ride my ass the whole night for once.”

Caleb rolled his eyes. “You’re welcome.” Then he held out his hand. “Alright, time’s up.”

Nathan hesitated just a second before gripping Caleb’s forearm. The moment they touched, the swap triggered—instant heat, a rush of vertigo, the sensation of being yanked out of his body and shoved back into his own.

When Caleb opened his eyes, everything felt right again. He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as he settled back into his own body. Across from him, Nathan blinked rapidly, looking down at himself like he was waking up from a dream.

“That was…” Nathan trailed off, flexing his fingers. He glanced up at Caleb. “We might have to do that again.”

Caleb just smirked. “Anytime, for the right price.”

[swapsrus]

[swapsrus]

[swapsrus]

Jock Body

My nephew will never find out that I’m swapping his body with mine on the weekends, and he’ll never guess that I’m using his body to work as a go-go boy with his knowing husband at the gay clubs in the city. (My nephew has a gorgeous and devious husband, right?)

These guys all drool over my nephew’s hot jock body and we probably make more money than all of the other dancers combined.

His husband made me promise that if I hook up with anybody while I’m in my nephew’s body, I need to send videos and photos to him. And I’ve sent a lot of photos and videos!

My nephew believes he is going out every weekend and get black out drunk, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. His husband and I have a lot of fun exploring our almost naked bodies on stage and, for the right price, we’ll take you in the back room and let you live out all the jock fantasies you’ve ever wanted.

(I had to flesh it out and update this story.)

[swapsrus]

The Reflection That Wasn't Mine

Liam woke up in an unfamiliar bed, his body feeling... different. He sat up, shirt loose around his shoulders, golden dog tag pressing coolly against his chest. The room smelled like fresh linen and something else—metallic, almost electric.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stumbled toward the mirror on the wall. That’s when he saw it.

The face staring back at him wasn’t his.

It looked like him—same golden hair, same sharp jawline—but something about the eyes was wrong. They were too steady, too knowing. As if something was watching through them rather than from them.

Liam clutched his head as flashes of another life filled his mind. A cold, silver room. Shadows standing over him. Needles pressing into his skin. Then, whispers in his head, "This vessel will do."

The memories weren’t his.

A knock at the door made him jump.

"Liam? You awake?"

The voice was familiar—his best friend, Jake.

Panic surged through him. He didn't know what he would say, didn't even know who he was anymore.

Then, a voice from deep within his mind—not his own—answered for him.

"Yes, I'm awake."

The words rolled off his tongue smoothly, naturally. Too naturally.

As Jake entered, Liam felt his lips curl into a perfect, practiced smile. He didn’t force it.

He wasn’t in control anymore.

And somewhere, trapped in the void of his own mind, the real Liam screamed.