#stolen cloth

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“CONVICTION QUASHED,” Toronto Star. February 15, 1933. Page 1. ---- Fred Kelly Had Been Found Guilty of Stealing Cloth ---- Court of appeal at Osgoode Hall to-day quashed a conviction registered by Magistrate McCaughrin at Orillia against Fred Kelly on a charge of stealing two bolts of blue cloth from J. P. Wells, Orillia. The only evidence was the finding of the cloth in a Toronto house over three months after the theft. Miss Vera Parsons appeared for appellant.

[thebramblewood]

Hot off the presses, it's the first (and probably only) issue of Vatore Magazine! Pick up your copy now to see all 22 (!) looks in detail, shop the must-have CC, and - most importantly - collect some new scraps of coveted Vatore lore. 👀

READ VATORE MAGAZINE (PDF)

So, yeah, guess who thought they were going to do a straightforward decades lookbook and ended up making things entirely too complicated? 🙋‍♀️ The visual side of my brain is always tickled when CC creators put together little catalogs for their collections. That was my initial inspiration. Then I did a half-baked magazine cover concept and wanted to make a better one. I used this template as a base, and the headlines ended up being the most fun part. Anyway, I don't know how many people will click the link let alone scroll through the entire thing, but you'll be rewarded with several paragraphs of Vatore history if you do. I did this more to properly establish their timeline for myself than anything else, but I put a lot of care and time into it, so I appreciate anyone who reads. ❤️

[tigsbitties]

paint stuff

[intotheelliwoods]

One and Poptart outfit swap :] @dianagj-art

Not depicted: the absurd amount of knifes that feel out of Ones outfit when Poptart was putting it on, and the knifes that remained in the outfit that he found out about later.....

[soldiersareyourprotectors]

Jake had been lifting weights alone in the gym late at night, savoring the quiet and solitude. The clang of metal and the rhythmic grunts of his exertion filled the space.

Each rep pushed his muscles to their limits, his veins bulging under his skin. The sweat dripped from his brow, soaking his tank top.

The gym was eerily quiet, the only sounds being the rhythmic clink of weights and Jake's steady breathing. The fluorescent lights flickered occasionally, casting shadows that danced across the room. As Jake finished his last set, he exhaled deeply, feeling a satisfying burn in his muscles. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm and made his way to the locker room.

Inside, the locker room was dimly lit, and the silence was almost oppressive. Jake opened his locker, pulled out a fresh towel, and began to strip off his drenched workout clothes. Just as he reached for his clean shirt, a voice pierced the quiet.

"Incredible physique you've got there."

Jake jumped, his heart pounding as he turned to see the lanky figure of the gym's janitor standing uncomfortably close. The janitor was a wiry, pallid man with sunken eyes that seemed to bore into Jake. He wore a faded uniform and clutched a mop in his skeletal hands.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," the janitor said, a creepy smile spreading across his face. "I've been observing you for months now. Your dedication is... admirable."

Jake's skin prickled with unease. He forced a smile and nodded. "Thanks, man. Just trying to stay in shape."

The janitor took a step closer, his eyes never leaving Jake's. "You do more than that.

You become perfection."

Before Jake could respond, he felt a sudden, sharp prick in his neck. His vision blurred, and he staggered, his body betraying him as he collapsed to the cold tile floor. The world around him faded to black.

When Jake awoke, he couldn't move. He could only watch in horror as the janitor loomed over him, stripping off his uniform to reveal a sickly, frail frame. The janitor's grin widened as he lifted Jake's skin, now hollow and limp like a discarded costume.

"You see," the janitor whispered, "I've always wanted to be perfect."

With a sense of grim determination, the janitor lifted Jake's skin from the ground.

It hung limply, like a grotesque costume. The janitor's eyes gleamed with a sick excitement as he stepped into Jake's legs, one at a time, pulling the skin up over his own.

As the janitor slipped his bony feet into Jake's muscular legs, the transformation began. The janitor's scrawny calves and thighs filled out, muscles rippling and expanding to match Jake's powerful build. The janitor adjusted the skin, pulling it up over his own narrow hips and emaciated torso. With each tug, the janitor's frail body reshaped itself, bones cracking and shifting to fit the new form.

Next, the janitor slid his arms into Jake's muscular ones, feeling the strength and power coursing through them. He flexed his new fingers, marveling at the size and definition of the biceps and triceps. The janitor then pulled the skin up over his chest and shoulders, his once narrow frame now broad and imposing.

Finally, the janitor reached for Jake's head, lifting it like a hood. He slipped his own head inside, feeling the skin stretch and mold to his features. As the janitor adjusted the face, his own gaunt visage disappeared, replaced by Jake's chiseled jawline and handsome features.

Standing before the mirror, the janitor-now-Jake marveled at his reflection. The transformation was complete. He was no longer the creepy janitor. He was Jake, the epitome of physical perfection. He flexed, watching the muscles ripple beneath the skin, and a dark, satisfied chuckle escaped his lips.

The janitor inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of Jake's sweat that clung to the discarded clothes on the floor. He dressed himself in Jake's sweaty tank top and shorts, feeling the fabric cling to his new body. He laced up Jake's sneakers, relishing the fit and the power he now felt.

With one last look in the mirror, the janitor-now-Jake smiled, confident in his new identity.

[katydoodles]

I think I got a name now

I think imma call this head canon Stolen Credit Card Chronicles.

These fashion sisters should steel Audrey’s credit card on a weekly basis to just have some kind of therapy for having a shitty mom. Retail Therapy.

[21wanderer]

Night at the Museum

Perhaps there had been signs he had overlooked, maybe there had been plenty of clues that something was going to happen at the museum, that someone had made plans and preparations, and it was culminating tonight.

The museum had amongst its collections, a collection of movie memorabilia, one of the memorabilia being a set of costumes of Batman and Robin from the movie of the same name from 1997 with George Clooney and Chris O'Donnell in the respective roles. A movie of questionable quality certainly, but iconic in its own way.

The suits were by no means unique, as there were made multiple of them during the taping of the movie, but now a set was on display here along side other superhero and movie pieces. As the night watch, he was responsible for keeping an eye on all these artefacts, which usually wasn’t particularly eventful, he might do some cleaning and some fixes around the museum, but otherwise, there wasn’t much to do. Not that he complained, he loved history and could enjoy the exhibits by himself. He did have a particular good eye for the Batman and Robin costumes, but apparently he wasn’t the only one.

An uneventful night became very eventful, when he entered the movie memorabilia collection, he had heard voices and went to investigate. Half of the security cameras weren’t working, which probably was a sign, that something bad was going to happen, but he still went to check. As soon as he entered the room, he was assaulted and overpowered by two masked men. They pressed him firmly against the wall, whilst stuffing a gag into his mouth, they then forced him down on a chair, and tied him to it with rope from their duffle bag. They didn’t seemed fazed by the night watch, quite the contrary, they seemed even more excited, as if they had wanted someone to witness this… And the night watch, whilst fearful and shocked, felt something stir inside him.

These two burglars were a mystery, they didn’t seem like your typical burglar, there were something strange about their approach and their goal, that the night watch would soon come to realize. He saw them approach the Batman display, whispering excitedly to one another, not even caring that he was sitting here watching everything. Had his mouth not been gagged, his jaw would have dropped, as he saw the two men do, what he had always dreamt of doing; touching the suits.

The burglars began to undress the two mannequins, the night watch trying to figure out exactly what they were doing and why. He could feel his stomach twisting and turning as he looked in fear, but also longing as the superhero costumes were disassembled and discarded on the floor.

They had undressed the two mannequins of Batman and Robin and thrown all the neoprene and leather on the floor. The night watch was baffled, if they wanted to steal the suits, why haven’t they just stuffed them in their duffle bag and ran? Was there more they wanted?

From their duffle bag one of the masked figure pulled out a utility knife. A chill ran down the night watch’s spine. What were they planning? He stared entranced and fearful, his conflicting emotions made it difficult for him to think straight. He was starting to remember the potential danger he was in, he stared at it with his heart in his throat, fearing that this could turn ugly pretty quickly.

But to his surprise and bewilderment, they did something else. With the blade of the knife one of the masked men began cutting off the head of the naked Robin mannequin, he then handed it to his accomplice, who took the head and turned his back on the night watch.

With his free hand the burglar pulled off his balaclava and dropped it on the floor. The night watch could only see the back of his head, but he appeared to be young and skinny with a buzz cut haircut.

To the night watch’s big surprise the young man plunged his head into the hollowed out Robin-head, pushing and pulling the silicone into place. The night watch wouldn’t have believed it was possible, but he could not take his eyes of it. After what seemed like an eternity the new ’Robin’ turned around a flashed a smile. It was unbelievable, it was so realistic. It was like the young Chris O’Donnell stood in the room, the night watch was in awe, he now knew exactly what the burglars wanted, and he felt aroused, he felt insatiable, as terrified as he was, he wanted to see it all.

The still masked burglar nodded in approval, having dropped the headless Robin silicone mannequin on the floor, he then went over to the naked ’Batman’.

And just like before, he cut off the head, turned his back on the night watch, pulled off his mask and plunged his head into the hollowed Batman’s.

Once the other burglar was satisfied with his new face, he turned towards his accomplice, who placed his hand on the George Clooney-impersonator’s face, before leaning in and kissing him.

Despite the potential danger he was in, the night watch eagerly awaited, what he assumed the burglars would do next. He wasn’t sure they would actually do it, but they didn’t disappoint him. They stripped themselves of their black onesies, and ran the utility knife down the spines of both of the mannequins, creating large enough gaps for them to enter.

Slowly, but steadily they both began to force their way inside the hollow mannequins. The night watch felt like his nether regions were about to explode at the sight. The two men were transforming into movie stars as their scrawny bodies disappeared into the silicone, replacing them with the perfectly sculpted physiques of Batman and Robin.

There was something completely breathtaking about their actions. The night watch could only dream of what it would be like to slip into a silicone body like that, instantly gaining flawless skin, a handsome face and some quick and easy muscle mass. He wanted nothing more, than to be like those two right now.

Once they were both inside they began a process of self-gratification, rubbing their hands all over their new smooth and toned bodies. The night watch was in awe at the sight. It was flawless. The two impersonators were clearly as aroused as him as they embraced each other, kissing each other deeply and passionately with their erections pressing against each other.

Having lost any sense of time, their make-out could have lasted hours as they caressed their new ’naked’ bodies, clearly beyond satisfied with their result. But they weren’t quite done yet, there was still a final trick in their bag.

They began rubbing some sort of paste on each other’s backs and around their necks. It dawned on the night watch what they were doing… They were sealing themselves inside. He would have thought that it would have been unbearably warm inside those silicone bodies, but apparently it wasn’t the case. They were going all in, no turning back, they wanted to stay as Clooney and O'Donnell forever.

The night watch couldn’t bear it anymore, he was so full of longing and desire and without knowing it and despite the gag, he let out a deep and audible moan.

For the first time for what seemed like hours, the impersonators turned towards their spectator, they both chuckled, seemingly enjoying they were being watched. The naked George-impersonator took a few steps toward their hostage: ”I hope you are enjoying the show, it’s only halfway done.” Did he have any idea, how much their witness was into this?

’George’ flexed his right arm, it responded flawlessly, you wouldn’t believe it wasn’t real unless you had seen, what had transpired before. ‘George’ turned away, looking at ’Chris’ who had begun pulling on the Robin-costume.

The night watch stared still entranced, no longer feeling any fear, just unyielding desire. ‘Chris’ had slipped into the pants of the Robin-suit, they were a perfect fit of course, maybe even a little tighter, but the mannequin was made to fit the proportions of the suit, and now, in some bizarre way, they still were.

‘George’ had also put on the pants of the Batman-suit and then helped ‘Chris’ zipping the back of Robin’s top. ‘Chris’ returned the favour as ‘George’ slipped into Batman’s top. The mannequins were almost completely dressed, they put on the costumes’ gloves, boots, belts and capes, then ‘Batman’ pulled on his leather cowl and ‘Robin’ his mask.

The transformation was complete, it was like the mannequins had simply come to life, except it really wasn’t that. It was almost more unbelievable. The two burglars strutted around for a bit, getting comfortable in their new skins and costumes. The night watch was so deeply infatuated, he could only imagine, how they must feel, how he wanted to be them.

“Are you satisfied?” said ‘Batman’ to ‘Robin’. “Very satisfied,” ‘Robin’ replied, whilst tweaking the nipples of his suit, “this feels so good.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” ‘Batman’ responded with a chuckle, running his gloved hand down to his suit’s crotch. ‘Robin’ wrapped his arms around ‘Batman’ and pulled him towards himself and they locked lips once again. The night watch moaned again, as he felt like climaxing any moment, he couldn’t contain himself anymore. The two ‘superheroes’ turned to look at him.

”I think he’s into it!” ’Batman’ laughed to ’Robin’ like they had been completely aware of it from the start. The ‘dark knight’ walked towards the night watch, whose heartbeat began to increase with every step of the approaching ‘hero’.

‘Batman’ placed his hand firmly on the night watch’s erection, giving it a few tugs. “Yeah, you are really into it, aren’t you? We had a feeling…”

The night watch let out another moan, the culmination of a most eventful night.

‘Batman’ walked away and began picking up the clothes of their former identities, the burglars’ balaclavas, onesies and so forth, all the traces of what they had been.

’Robin’ chuckled and walked up to their hostage. He placed his boot firmly on the night watch’s aroused member and smiled the boyish smile of the young Chris O'Donnell. ’Robin’ leaned in on the night watch, their faces so close, that he could smell the silicone and the warmth radiating from it, ’Robin’ placed his mouth inches from the night watch’s ear and whispered sensually: “If you let us get away… We’ll make it worth your while. You can join us if you want. If this turns you on as much as it does us, then I think we’ll get along nicely, and we can even get you a skin like ours.”

’Robin’ stepped back, ’Batman’ was done tidying up after them.

”Give it some thought,” said ’Robin’, “we’ll make sure, you won’t regret it.” The night watch felt the ropes loosen and the gag too. ‘Robin’ then gave him a kiss on the cheek, the night watch felt the warm silicone against his skin, it felt so realistically, he then felt ‘Robin’s’ tongue in his ear, and he almost felt like fainting from the hotness.

The sound of two heavy sets of leather boots walking echoed through the empty halls as the ‘dark knight’ and the ‘boy wonder’ left the crime scene, leaving the night watch behind, pondering what his next move should be.

[nerdy-novelist017]

His expression oh my god 😭 I’m in my feels

📸 @lilli-lilli

[karvakera]

This game gave me stockholm syndrome

[witchofthemidlands]

everytime i watch anything that has paul mcgann in it i always sit there afterwards thinking what a fucking tragedy it was that he never got seasons as the doctor.

[gunstellations]

he just woke up shh

[grif-hawaiian-rolls]

sometimes u just get so filled w thoughts about a pair of characters u gotta just go bonkers ya know

[sumersprkl]

I feel like the Taaco twins' senses of personal style developed because every time Lup wanted to jump into the middle of some stupid shit, she'd hand Taako all of her accessories for safekeeping and he'd just... Put them on.

They wear matching outfits not to be some kind of weird twin stereotype but because Taako needs to be prepared to wear anything Lup has on at a moment's notice.

Pretty soon they'd have arguments about who owns any single piece of jewelry because Lup swears she bought it for herself but it's been an essential part of Taako's wardrobe for 50 years.

So by the time they get to Faerun at the end of the Stolen Century, Lup looks like she walked out of a streetwear fashion magazine except that her only accessories are a jacket and MAYBE a pair of sunglasses, and Taako jangles when he walks under the weight of all his jewelry.

[wolfsclothing6]

Changing Room pt. 2

Elliot sat awkwardly on the bench in the cramped changing room, his round belly pressed against his thighs. The briefs clung stubbornly to his body, and no matter how much he tried to ignore it, the faint musk emanating from the fabric seemed to grow stronger by the second. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.

Minutes dragged on, and Jake still hadn’t shown up.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

“Hey, uh, I’ve got some clothes here for you,” a deep, slightly gravelly voice said.

Elliot froze. “Jake?” he asked cautiously.

“No, name’s Martin. One of the clerks here said you needed something in a larger size, so I brought these over.”

Before Elliot could respond, a neatly folded pile of clothes was shoved under the door. He stared at them, hesitant. Something about the stack gave him a strange feeling, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Thanks,” he called back weakly.

He unfolded the clothes: a plain blue polo shirt, a pair of khakis, and some sneakers. Each item had a faint, earthy scent, a mixture of leather, sweat, and… something else he couldn’t quite place. He was desperate, though.

First, he pulled on the polo. The fabric was soft and well-worn, stretching perfectly over his new girth. It hugged his belly snugly, the hem riding up slightly when he moved.

Next, the khakis. They slid on easily, fitting as if they had been tailored just for him. Even the sneakers felt like they were made for his wide, slightly sweaty feet.

Elliot looked at himself in the mirror. The clothes fit too well. It was uncanny, like they belonged to him all along.

As he adjusted the polo, his fingers brushed against something sewn into the inside of the collar: a small, embroidered name tag.

“Teddy,” he read aloud, his voice trembling.

The name struck a chord deep within him. Teddy. Teddy… yeah, that was right. That was his name. A sense of familiarity washed over him, and he found himself smiling absentmindedly.

“No!” he muttered, shaking his head. “My name’s Elliot. Not—”

But the scent of the clothes overwhelmed him, seeping into his mind. Memories that weren’t his began to surface: folding clothes on racks, helping customers find their sizes, and chatting with coworkers during breaks. He could almost see himself leaning against the counter, laughing with a cup of coffee in hand.

The reflection in the mirror shifted slightly. His face softened, his stubble thickening into a neatly trimmed beard. His hair darkened and shortened, styled into a practical cut. His posture changed, his shoulders rounding as if weighed down by years of retail work.

“Hey there, buddy,” he heard himself say, though it wasn’t his voice—it was deeper, friendlier, with a faint Midwestern twang.

Elliot—or rather, Teddy—blinked, confused. The name tag felt warm against his skin, like it was branding him. He turned to look at the pile of his old clothes on the bench. They felt alien now, like they belonged to someone else entirely.

“Why would I wear that stuff?” he murmured, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

A knock at the door startled him.

“Hey, Teddy! You done in there?” a voice called.

Teddy—no, Elliot—hesitated for a moment. Then, as if on autopilot, he grabbed the pile of discarded clothes, opened the door, and stepped out.

A coworker greeted him with a grin. “Took you long enough! Break’s over, man. There’s a mess in the men’s section that needs cleaning up.”

Teddy nodded. “Right. Sorry about that.”

As he walked toward the department floor, the faint scent of musk still clinging to him, the last remnants of Elliot faded into the background, replaced entirely by Teddy, the department store clerk who always had a warm smile and a friendly word for every customer.

[soldiersareyourprotectors]

Mike and Tim loved each other deeply. Mike, with his towering frame and muscular build, looked every bit the athlete. He was the star of the local rugby team, known for his strength and agility. Tim, on the other hand, was lean and wiry, with a sharp intellect and a quick wit that matched his keen eyes. They had been together for three years, and while their friends and family assumed the dynamics of their relationship, only they knew the truth.

In public, they played their roles well. Mike would wrap an arm protectively around Tim's shoulders, pulling him close as they navigated through life. Tim would lean into Mike, a small smile playing on his lips as if to say, "Yes, he's mine." They were the picture-perfect couple, and everyone admired them, envying their seemingly perfect chemistry.

What people didn't see was the subtle dance of power that took place behind closed doors. In their private sanctuary, Mike's broad shoulders and imposing stature meant nothing. As soon as they stepped into their apartment, the roles reversed.

One evening, after a particularly grueling rugby match, Mike trudged into their apartment, sweat glistening on his body. Tim was already home, sitting on the couch with a book in hand. He looked up as Mike entered, his eyes softening for a moment before a mischievous glint replaced the tenderness.

"Rough game?" Tim asked, closing his book and setting it aside.

Mike nodded, his muscles aching and his mind weary. "Yeah, they really put us through the wringer tonight."

Tim stood and walked over to Mike, his lean form moving with an effortless grace.

He reached up, cupping Mike's face in his hands and pulling him down for a deep, lingering kiss. When they broke apart, Tim's voice was low and commanding.

"Shower. Now."

Mike's eyes widened slightly, but he obeyed without question. He stripped off his clothes as he walked to the bathroom, the hot water a welcome relief against his tired muscles. As he stood under the spray, he felt the tension slowly ebb away, replaced by a different kind of anticipation. As the hot water cascaded over Mike's sore muscles, he found himself replaying Tim's firm command in his mind. Tonight felt different, special, as if Tim had planned something extraordinary. Stepping out of the shower, Mike wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way to the bedroom, feeling a flutter of anticipation.

Tim stood by the bed, his eyes dark and intense, an air of authority radiating from him. The room was dimly lit, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere. "Come here," Tim instructed, his voice steady and commanding.

Mike obeyed, crossing the room and standing before Tim, who reached out to gently untie the towel around Mike's waist, letting it fall to the floor. Tim's touch was electric, his fingers tracing patterns over Mike's chest and down his arms, sending shivers through his body.

Tim reached up, trailing his fingers lightly over Mike's chest, his touch sending shivers down Mike's spine. "You did well today," Tim murmured, his voice a seductive whisper. "But now, it's time to let go." Mike felt his knees weaken, sinking to the floor in submission. Tim guided him to the bed, his movements confident and deliberate, his control absolute.

For the rest of the night, Tim led Mike through an intricate dance of pleasure and obedience. Every touch, every whisper was calculated to drive Mike to the edge and back, each moment more intense than the last. Mike surrendered completely, reveling in the freedom that came with letting Tim take control.

As the night deepened, their connection grew stronger, the boundaries between them blurring until all that remained was the raw, unfiltered expression of their love and trust. When they finally collapsed into each other's arms, spent and satisfied, Mike drifted off to sleep with a deep sense of contentment.

The next morning, Mike awoke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains. He reached out, expecting to find Tim beside him, but the bed was empty.

Confused, Mike sat up, rubbing his eyes, and that's when he noticed something strange. His body felt different, smaller. He looked down and gasped. The body he saw wasn't his own; it was Tim's.

Heart pounding, Mike scrambled out of bed and rushed to the mirror. Staring back at him was Tim's reflection. He touched his face, his hands, unable to comprehend what had happened. Just then, the bedroom door opened, and in walked Tim-or rather, Mike's body with Tim's confident stride.

Tim, now in Mike's muscular form, grinned at the look of shock on Mike's face.

"Surprise," he said, his voice carrying a hint of triumph.

"What... how?" Mike stammered, struggling to find his voice.

Tim approached, his movements fluid and commanding. "I've been working on this for a while," he explained, flexing his new, powerful muscles. "I wanted to give us an experience neither of us would ever forget."

Mike's mind raced, a mix of disbelief and awe flooding his senses. "You... you swapped our bodies?"

Tim nodded, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "And now," he said, stepping closer,

"I'm going to show you what it's like to be on the receiving end."

Before Mike could react, Tim's strong hands were on him, pushing him back onto the bed. Tim's newfound strength and size made resistance futile. He pinned Mike down, his grip firm but not painful, his eyes burning with a dominant fire.

"Relax," Tim murmured, his voice deep and reassuring. "Let me take care of you."

Despite the surreal situation, Mike felt a familiar thrill coursing through him.

He trusted Tim implicitly, and the idea of experiencing this new dynamic was intoxicating. He nodded, surrendering once more, this time to the powerful form of the man he loved.

Mike lay back on the bed, still reeling from the intensity of the shock. Tim, now in Mike's powerful body, towered over him, his expression a blend of satisfaction and authority. "Relax," Tim said softly yet commandingly as he positioned himself. The sensation of Tim's strong hands gripping his hips made Mike shiver. It was surreal to see his own muscular arms and broad shoulders moving with Tim's confident precision.

With a firm, controlled push, Tim entered Mike, the initial shock quickly giving way to waves of intense pleasure. Tim's powerful body thrust into him, each movement precise and deliberate. Mike's smaller frame felt every inch, every movement, as Tim guided him through a symphony of pleasure.

Tim's dominance was complete. He used his newly acquired strength to pin Mike down, his thrusts growing more intense. Mike moaned, surrendering completely to the overwhelming sensation, his trust in Tim absolute. The experience was electrifying, a mix of raw power and deep intimacy that left them both breathless.

Every thrust sent waves of pleasure through Mike's body, his senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the moment. Tim's control was unyielding, his dominance absolute. He drove into Mike with a rhythm that spoke of both passion and mastery, each movement precise and powerful.

Finally, as they both neared the peak of their shared ecstasy, Tim's thrusts became more urgent, more forceful. Mike cried out, his body trembling with the force of his climax, matched by the powerful release from Tim. They collapsed together, a tangle of limbs and sweat, utterly spent and deeply satisfied.

For a few moments, they lay there in silence, their breathing gradually slowing.

Mike looked up at Tim, still in awe of the experience. "That was... unbelievable," he whispered.

Tim smiled down at him, his eyes softening. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said, brushing a stray lock of hair from Mike's forehead.

As they lay there, basking in the afterglow, Tim's expression grew more serious.

"There's something you need to know," he said quietly.

Mike's heart skipped a beat. "What is it?"

Tim took a deep breath. "The body swap... it's permanent."

Mike's eyes widened in shock. "Permanent?"

Tim nodded. "I don't have any regrets, Mike. This is how it's meant to be. You need to accept it. I wanted to give us something more than just a temporary experience.

I wanted us to truly become who we are inside. You've always been the strong, dominant one in public, but in private, you love to submit. And I've always been the one in control, no matter how we appeared to others. Now, our bodies match our true selves."

Mike struggled to process the enormity of what Tim had done. He looked down at his new, leaner form, then back up at Tim's muscular body. Despite the shock, he couldn't deny the rightness of it. This body felt more like him, just as Tim's new form suited him perfectly.

Tim's smile turned mischievous. "I can't wait to live life as you in public, being the hot local rugby player. Stepping into your gear for the matches is going to be amazing." He paused, eyeing Mike's new slender frame. "And you know what? You should become a cheerleader for us. With your now skinny frame, you'll fit right in."

Mike's mind whirled at the idea, but as he lay there, cradled in his-no, Tim’s-strong arms, a sense of acceptance began to wash over him. This was their new reality, and he trusted Tim completely.

Tim looked down at him, his eyes soft but firm. "From now on, we should call each other by our new names. You are Tim, and I am Mike. This is who we are now."

Mike—no, Tim-nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Alright, Mike," he said, testing the name on his tongue. "I trust you."

Tim— now the real Mike—leaned down, kissing him tenderly. "I know you do, Tim.

And I'm going to take care of you, just as you deserve."

The new Mike grinned, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "I love controlling your tall, muscular body in public, and I'll love it even more in private, with you being the smaller one now. It's going to be incredible."

[hiding-under-the-willow]

More Zeph art. I can't be stopped