Wrestling With Some Feelings

Wrestling With Some Feelings

Wrestling with some Feelings

“Wh-What are you doing…?" Ahmed moaned as a trail of slime slid into his singlet. Just the very touch caused his body to react with an eruption of pleasurable waves. He collapsed onto the locker room floor, slowly humping the floor to get any sort of friction on his hardening dick. "Haa… aahhhh...haaa…! This isn't… right." Ahmed bit down on his lip before letting down another desperate moan. So caught up in this invasive bliss that he didn't even care when the slimy creature squeezed itself into his leaking cock. Instead, he welcomed it. Thoughts of championships and the thrill of victory soon vanished beneath a blanket of ecstasy. "Ah! Ahhh! H-Holy fuck, I'm—!"

Ahmed wasn't able to finish as his body yielded to the enigmatic invader. His vision swam and he felt dizzy until he collapsed on a puddle of his precum. Ahmed's body convulsed on the ground, unable to even call for help, until he suddenly became rigid, back arched as if mid-orgasm. Then, he relaxed. Slowly, he rose from the ground and took a peek inside his wrestling singlet. "Damn kid, you got a sweet-ass body," he said, stretching his body and letting out a satisfying grunt as something popped. His more reserved personality and mannerisms were completely gone, as though it was someone else entirely. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna stay here forever. Just long enough to throw that match with Clay tonight. Can’t let my son lose that scholarship. You understand, right?” Adjusting his singlet again, the man in possession of Ahmed, Jerry, let out a sensual groan. “Ohhh, and maybe take advantage of this little body for a while. Not every day an old fart like me can be a young and sexy college stud for a few hours."

There was still time until the match, and considering how it would just be throwing the match to Clay, it wouldn’t take much effort. For now, Jerry could relax and enjoy what Ahmed's body had to offer. Grinning, he squeezed Ahmed's meat through the fabric and threw his head back in a low moan. "You're so lucky, being so sensitive. C'mon, let's get real acquainted."

Clay’s father had to struggle to keep his erection down as Clay seriously manhandled him the whole match. Each of Ahmed’s nerves seemed to be turbo-charged and Clay’s rough hands only seemed to aggravate that. With every slam and struggle—every time flesh met flesh with a flash of friction, Clay’s father found himself growing flushed. Didn’t even have to try that hard to throw, his over-horned body did the job for him.

Was it the spell or perhaps something more? Either way, soon Jerry found himself pinned to the mat with his son sneering down at him. The ref called the final point, and that was it. Jerry walked back to the locker rooms, ignoring the calls from his coach and friends. He couldn’t risk anyone catching on to his lack of disappointment.

To make sure the locker room would be empty, Jerry took an extremely long shower—checking his goods one last time before he would have to leave and return home to congratulate his son. Towel around his waist, he made his way over to the locker only to meet a meaty arm blocking his way. 

"Gotta say, kinda disappointed in your performance today, Ahmed," Clay said with a glare.

“Oh, Clay! Uh, wh-what can I say? Performance anxiety,” Jerry said, shrugging.

Clay tilted his head in confusion. “The hell’s happened to you? All jumpy and squirrely.” He took a step forward, cornering his father against the lockers. “You sick or something? Honestly looking real weird.”

Swallowing, Clay’s father said, “Um, I suppose you just have the magic touch,” he said, mind racing to come up with a lie that would be somewhat believable. “Body got all hot and cold with you manhandling me like that.” Jerry prayed that his face and ears weren’t turning as red as he thought they were.

Clay nodded to himself while squinting as if deciphering a difficult piece of text. "That so…?” Hoping that was enough, Jerry began to walk away. However, Clay slammed both of his arms against the lockers, pinning his father completely. “All you had to do was ask,” Clay whispered, his incredulous look turning into one of passion. Without a word, he leaned and kissed Jerry on his borrowed lips. Too shocked to even fight, Jerry leaned back and shut his eyes. What did this rush of passion mean? It was as if a dam had suddenly burst open.

Caught in this stream of passion, Jerry met Clay's kiss with equal aggression. It was as if he was possessed by whatever sentiments Ahmed had locked away deep inside of his subconscious. Either way, Jerry couldn’t even bother trying to resist the youthful hormones that danced in every inch of his hunky, borrowed body.

“Damn, you taste real fine,” said Clay, leaning away to stare at the giddy, bubbly mess that was Jerry. “Your lips feel so nice. Bet they’d be even better wrapped around my dick,” he said, slapping his thigh as he said so. Jerry glanced down and saw his son’s fully erect cock straining against the confines of the singlet. Wordlessly, he nodded and got down on his knees. The taste was so salty, but he didn’t mind it at all. Hearing his son’s pleasured moans and the cock threatening to unhinge Ahmed’s jaw was enough to get Jerry’s own dick hard.

“Make me see white,” Jerry breathed as he drew back with a pop. He spread his legs, trying to show as much of his ass he could. “Fuck me hard, Clay. I don’t think I can live without that cock inside of me once.”

“Say no more.” With a grunt of effort, Clay lifted Jerry up and placed him down onto one of the benches. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice and gentleman-y like.” Leaning up to steal another sensual kiss, Clay teased the rim of Ahmed’s hole with his cockhead. Jerry moaned and bit down on his lips. He took a few breaths, trying to relax, before just leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. "Hold on, relax," whispered Clay, using a finger to loosen him up. "Got some lube in my locker. Give me a sec."

“You have what?” Jerry exclaimed as Clay briefly walked off. “H-How often do you do this here.”

Once Clay returned, he just grinned and said, “Enough.”

Though Jerry wanted to continue asking his son, the finger that penetrated him had another idea. Jerry, nearly cross-eyed, immediately tightened as a reflex. He leaned back, moaning like a slut as Clay slipped in another finger. Then another. “F-Fuck, I-I’m fucking cumming!” Jerry shouted as his dick erupted with shot after shot of pent-up aggression.

“Damn, came from just fingering?” Clay grinned. “Hope you still got fuel in the tank, Ahmed. I still haven’t got a chance to shoot my shot.”

Breathing heavily, Jerry nodded as he spread his legs even further. Despite his climax abating, the sensual haze in his mind didn’t leave. Instead, he felt as though he could cum again and again that night. “I’m still not satisfied. Split me in half, Clay!” He moaned. Although the more logical part of Jerry's mind screamed and begged, he didn't give a shit. He just wanted this hunky hole filled and his son's cock was the one thing that could fix that.

Clay wasted no time. He spread Jerry as much as he cut and gave a slow, experimental thrust. When Jerry didn't scream, he slowly picked up the pace. "Mm, yeah. Nrgh, fuck yeah," he grunted with every thrust. There was no reason to go so quick that it would take away from the passion. As promised, he was gentle with strong, rhythmic thrusts. Jerry met each one with the same rhythm. Every nerve seemed to be on fire as Clay's cock filled him—as though Jerry was finally complete. With this body and this cock inside of him, he was reaching Nirvana.

After what seemed like a lifetime of pleasure, Jerry noticed Clay’s core tightening. His face was flushed and his body was covered in a sheen of sweat. “I’m—nggh—I’m gonna blow my load. Want me to cum inside?” Jerry quickly nodded. Clay grinned. “Good answer.” With renewed vigor, Clay continued plowing into Jerry as he babbled nonsense. “C’mon, Ahmed. Scream for me.” He said, slapping Ahmed’s quivering thighs.

“Oh my god,” said Jerry, covering his face to hide the tears. He was elated and embarrassed all at once. His own offspring was smashing him and all he could do was moan and allow it to happen. It had been years since he had sex this good, and he knew that Ahmed felt the same. No, for Ahmed it was even more intense. Somehow, Jerry understood that Ahmed had never had sex before. Now, at that moment, Jerry was losing his virginity for Ahmed. With that in mind, Jerry could feel his climax swiftly approaching.

“I'm gonna nut! I'm gonna—MMM!" Jerry stopped as Clay suddenly embraced him with a long, intense kiss. Unable to handle the heat and the passion any longer, Jerry climaxed. Both of their bodies became drenched in semen, but neither of them cared. All they wished was to taste as much of themselves in that kiss.

Sorry, Ahmed, thought Jerry, lemme just stay in this body for a little while longer. I’ll leave tomorrow in the morning. Promise.

Wrestling with some Feelings was a request from @lurkinglizards btw! He gave me the idea and I wrote it

If you wish for some more stories like that, I’m accepting commissions on my ko-fi page. Feel free to take a look.

are you still taking requests?

Yes, I am!

Don’t Use the Shower at Night

Lionel walked through the locker room with an exaggerated swagger, his towel nearly slipping off his swaying hips. Just a step behind him was another man named Maxwell, his fluffy hair bobbing up and down as he emulated Lionel’s strut with perfect accuracy. His expression remained completely stoic despite his expression gait, and his eyes seldom blink. Soon, the pair stopped in front of the sole shower stall still being used.

Leaning against a wall, Lionel commented, “Your hair’s just too cute, Maxie. It’s so nice when it just moves like that,” he said, chuckling as Maxwell simply nodded. “I’m glad we met in this gym, Maxie, but… don’t you think there’s someone else who should join this li’l group of ours? No reason it can’t be more than two.”

A flicker of light appeared in Maxwell’s dull eyes. His lips curled up into a smirk mirroring that of Lionel’s. “Sure thing, boss,” he said, his gruff voice sounding faint from disuse. He stepped forward, towel falling onto the floor. He drew the shower curtain back with a swift flick of the wrist.

“Woah, man, what the fuck?!” said the younger man, whipping around to face Maxwell. “H-Hey, what the hell’s wrong with you? Go away!” Despite the desperation in the young man’s voice, Maxwell just stepped forward, ignoring the stream of hot water on his skin. “Hey, you there, help me out here!” The young man looked to Lionel in desperation. However, Lionel just grinned as the outline of his hardening dick became clear through the thin towel. “Just relax,” he told the young man as Maxwell pinned him to the wall. “This can be fun of all of us. Stop. Struggling. And relax.”

“B-Bro, please…!” was all the young man was able to do as Maxwell forcibly brought their lips together beneath the hot, steamy water. Their tongues wrestled and fought for dominance as the young man screamed into Maxwell’s mouth until something surged forth. “HRGH! HHHMMMMFFF!”

Lionel let out a pleasured moan as the slimy substance that composed his soul traveled down the young man's throat and began to spread throughout his trembling body. The odd substance began to invade and rewire each of the man's cells. Every time without fail, Lionel enjoyed the sensation of his consciousness flooding another's.

“Good job, li’l Maxie,” Lionel said to his first convert. Fully aware that there was not a shred of the old Maxwell to respond to his praise, Lionel still enjoyed the little replay that came with controlling multiple bodies. The rippling of Maxwell's biceps as he pinned the young man to the wall as well as the hair that adorned his head all confirmed to Lionel one thing: he had made the right choice conquering this one.

Speaking of conquering, Lionel leaned his head back and let out a moan, toes curling and eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as a stream of information reached his consciousness. The sensation of filling another always gave him such a rush of pleasure, like he was breeding someone’s hole. “Mm, so your name’s Jacob? Not a bad name, and not a bad looker, either,” said Lionel, grinning.

Maxwell leaned back, licking a stray film of orange good from his lips while his victim convulsed against the wall. The process always took a few seconds at least, but Lionel was slowly becoming faster. Soon he’d be able to convert others in no time at all. However, “It’s just not as much fun,” he said out loud, sticking his tongue out as he savored the last remains of resistance from Jacob finally fade. “So, Jacob my friend, how do you feel about joining li’l ol’ Maxie and me? We’re cruising around and thinking of picking up a few more buddies. You in?”

"Uh, ohhh… urgh…" Jacob still moaned as he went through the last of the shakes. He cracked his neck, shuddering before opening his eyes, giving Lionel yet another set he could see through. For a moment, there was the tiniest hint of an orange dye in Jacob’s irises, but it soon vanished. “Sounds like a bitchin’ time, boss,” said Lionel’s newest husk, adopting Jacob’s personality. “But why don’t you let me finish up my shower? Actually, do you mind joining me? Need someone to wash the small of my back.”

“Do you mind, Maxie?” said Lionel, knowing the answer already but still enjoying the little show he was putting on for himself. Maxwell shook his head, hair bobbing the whole time. “Well then, let’s get acquainted.”

Eight Guests a Party

Alan’s invader awoke late in the morning, just before noon. All the breeding and planning from last night, as well as converting Alan’s friend—whatever his name was—had all but exhausted him. Even so, as he awoke, he felt refreshed and re-energized. Everything had gone according to plan, even with the setback he had encountered one of Alan’s old friends. Soon, Forde’s friends would arrive and enjoy a night at the pool, where Alan’s invader left his awaiting spawn.

Although a small force, the fact that they would convert eight whole bodies in the span of just two days was a major boon for the invasion. While the four invaders gathered together to feed their hosts, Alan explained it to them all.

“Understood!” said Nolan, nodding. Ever obedient.

“Right,” said Alan’s friend. None of them quite knew what his name was exactly, and neither did Alan’s offspring.

Forde nodded, looking… sullen? That seemed to be the appropriate name for the emotion. “I understand, brother,” he said to Alan. Regardless of the emotion, he appeared to be obedient. “So your friend and you will hide upstairs while Nolan and I make sure that our friends swim in the pool?”

Nodding, Alan said, “It is absolutely vital that none of these prominent and virile hosts do not suspect anything until they are all infected. The moment one of them gets away as if able to warn the authorities, our invasion is finished.”

“Don’t worry,” said Nolan, “We don’t intent to let anything get in the way.”

Forde nodded, grimacing. “I’ll do my best, brother. I swear it.”

“Is that so? You should know nothing like that means anything to me, brother.”

Alan’s invader wasn’t sure why, but he could almost see the malice flash across Forde’s face.

Night arrived and the sounds of men filled the air. To keep themselves hidden, Alan’s invader and the invader who took over the other one hid in the room of Forde’s parents. They sat in the dark, the only light streaming was that of the moon and the lights from the pool below. Before the hour was up, they would no longer have to hide.

Alan’s invader looked through the window the various hosts talking, dancing, and merrily drinking as they unknowingly enjoyed their last night in this world. In a way, the sight was pitiful. Promising young men who have done nothing wrong will soon just become husks and the key to their species’ extinction.

“Something wrong, father?” Alan’s friend asked with a slight tilt of his head. “You seem concerned. I haven’t seen that from you.”

“Perhaps my host has affected me more than I initially believed,” said Alan’s invader. He took a seat on the king-sized bed and stared down at his hands. He thought about his fingers moving, and they did. It was a natural, instinctive movement, yet there was something truly miraculous about it. Yet, something about that bothered him. “When did I start believing these were mine?” he mused, eyes narrowing. “I think, therefore I am,” Alan’s invader muttered. He had no idea who said it, but his host considered it so important. “I am alive.”

“Of course you are,” his friend—no, his host’s friend—said with that same naivety his spawn often did. “You command us. You breathe. Of course you’re alive.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Alan’s invader said. When he looked down at that pool, there was a stirring emotion inside of his chest. Joy? No. Ecstasy? No, not that either. He thought about it for about 40 minutes until he spotted Forde’s friends jumping into the pool. “Ah, I think I understand.” The emotion he was feeling was ‘pride,’ for his offspring. The plan had worked as expected. Everything was going perfectly.

However, he couldn’t shake off a feeling of dread. Was it his host’s fear? Was it that the dawn of humanity’s destruction was upon them? Whatever it was, Alan’s invader didn’t mind. He pushed that worthless emotion to the pits of his borrowed mind left the room. His offspring followed close behind.

Alan’s invader arrived just in time to see the final moments of the conversions take place. One of Forde’s friends had made it all the way out of the pool, but it was clear in his writhing form and drool falling from his lips that he wouldn’t last long. “Hhhheeeelp,” said that man while Forde and Nolan merely looked on. Alan’s invader noted that he had never seen such a lack of emotion on Forde’s face before. It was completely blank, almost mirroring his own. There was a rush of relief but also disappointment. What set his brother Forde so far apart from all the others was gone. Though Alan’s invader couldn’t say there was true value behind that, it was a shame to see it go.

“It’s over,” said Forde, looking down at his convulsing friends as they suffered during their last moments. “It’s over, Alan.”

Alan’s invader nodded as he approached. He stood over the men as the last traces of their humanity left them. “You have done well, Forde.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“If that’s what you wish.” Forde balled his fists that at the response, but Alan’s invader didn’t pay much mind to that. He instead focused on the rising men as the first bits of awareness reached them. There were still plans to be made, but for now, everything was all right. His spawn would survive this cold and unforgiving world. No, they would do more than that. They would thrive. 

As these thoughts ran through the invader’s mind, he spotted the glint of a metal blade flash in the night.

He recognized just by the sight alone. The invader raised his hands in defense as Forde brandished a small and sharp night, easy to conceal. The sensation of dread returned, and the invader let out a cry of panic. However, before Forde could run him through, several bodies all pinned him down.

Now useless, the knife fell to the pavement with a sharp clatter that made the invader jump. Forde reached out for it with desperate fingers before Nolan kicked it out of reach.

“No…” breathed Forde. “Damnit, damnit!” he said, slamming his fist against the pavement as his former friends rose from their place.

Alan’s invader stepped forward. The knife hadn’t come anywhere near him, yet his skin was covered in goosebumps. Yet another new sensation. “Why did you do that?” he asked with a slight, quizzical tilt of his head.

“To stop the invasion!” screamed Forde. Something akin to desperation and pain danced in his wild eyes. “To stop you. I… look at ourselves, Alan. Look at what we are. I killed Forde, and I lead to all my friends dying.”

“So your plan was to kill me? Your brother, who chose you over all the others who died?”

“It was luck!” shouted Forde. “Y’know that more than anyone that it was only by luck that I was the one to take over Forde. Don’t pull that shit with me!” he said, trembling with rage. His cheeks were completely red and tears threatened to fall down his cheeks. “You didn’t save me. You don’t care about me,” he said, attempting to escape from his friend’s grip.

“You’re right,” nodded Alan’s invader. “I see now that I shouldn’t have cared about you at all.” Disappointment. It was an emotion that his host was intimate with. A disappointing child wasn’t anything new, and disappointment towards himself came as often as the sun rose in the morning. “You’ve always been so emotional. So much more human compared to everyone else. It is no wonder you’ve become the way you are now.”

Forde let out a few more staggered breaths before finally sighing. Head low and shoulder slumped, he asked, “Why am I alive? Why am I here? Out of all the members of our species that you could have saved, why was it me?” 

“I can’t say I know,” was the invader’s blasé response. “However, I do know this. Whatever happened, it was a mistake. I must’ve wronged you in some way, brother. That’s why you believe you’re Forde. It’s why you have these emotions.” The invader gently lifted up Forde’s chin so they were eye-to-eye, faces just inches apart. “You’re a danger to yourself and this invasion, Forde. We can’t afford you to remain alive.”

“A mistake,” echoed Forde. “Just a mistake. That’s all I am, then.” His voice, so filled with defiance and determination just minutes before, was now just a hollow whisper.

“Is this what you wanted?” demanded the invader, punching Forde’s stomach. Forde sucked in air through his teeth but didn’t scream. The invader scoffed and punched him again, but still nothing. “To die amongst your new comrades?” he continued. “Your fellow family?”

“No, I wanted you to die with me, brother,” said Forde, head low. “I want to die for the sins I’m carrying.”

“...You’re disgusting,” said Alan’s invader. “These emotions ruined your opportunity in this world. Even now, I can feel this disgusting human’s sentiments impede my thinking.” He looked up at the stars, where he was certain he belonged, and scowled. “I’m trapped in this in this filthy world, chained up by these petty sins my host refuses to let go. I’m chained to the earth and I can’t fly to the stars like we’re destined to do.” In that cloud of anger, the most visceral emotion he has ever felt, Alan’s invader wound his fist back and struck Forde’s cheek. “I won’t let your nonsense get in our way. I won’t allow you to disrupt my mission and prevent our species from taking its rightful place.”

Forde, still reeling from that blow, looked back up and glared at the invader. There was a tense moment, a brief hesitation, before he spat a glob of blood right at the invader’s face. 

Finally, the invader thought, that fire in his eyes returned. Forde lived once more. That was the last thing the invader wished to see from the brother he had saved. It was an accident, but I don’t carry any regrets, Forde. You carry a potential I wish I could understand, but I must fulfill my duty. Our people, my offspring, deserve the right to live and feel the pride I had the privilege to feel.

“Hold still, freak,” the invader growled as he held Forde’s squirming face still. “You’re wasting valuable resources. I’ll have to pry you out of that body myself.” Once more, the fear in Forde’s eyes returned, but the defiance never left. Even to the end, Forde remained steadfast and full of life. In a low whisper, one he wasn’t certain Forde would even hear, the invader said, “I’ll miss you, my brother. My friend.” The invader gathered himself up in his host’s mouth, growing lightheaded for a second. Then, he leaned in for a kiss.

“NOW!”

Surely, he would’ve seen this coming. Two of Forde’s friends grabbed his arms and pinned him down to the ground. With the surprise impact, Alan accidentally bit down on the slime and allowed the invader to spill onto the pavement. With little way to escape, the invader just lied on the ground, attempting to crawl back into its bleeding host with the speed of a snail.

Forde reached into his pocket and pulled out some kind of packet. The invader could only make out “SALT” before Forde pinned him to the ground. “DIE!” Was the last thing the invader heard from Forde as he shoved the packet into his pathetic, slimy body.

Alan’s friend fell to the ground as well, pinned down by some more of Forde’s friends. What had initially appeared to be the invader’s emotionless spawn revealed themselves to have a wide range of emotions, not unlike Forde.

Ah, a ruse, the invader thought as his body burned at the salt’s touch. How clever. So that’s why Alan’s friend arrived. A distraction to fill the pool with your own flawed, miserable, heartful spawn. He looked up at the weeping, blubbering Forde as Nolan pulled him in for an embrace. You win, brother. Humanity is saved. The burden of your own spawn and the burden of the dead now lie with you.

Why are you alive? Why are you like this? I couldn’t give you an answer, but perhaps you can find it on your own.

I wish you the best, brother.

And the invader stopped thinking.

The Lake

“H-Hey man, thanks for the rescue,” the young man said as he climbed onto the larger boat. His hands wouldn’t stop shivering, and his movements were frenetic as he oriented himself. “M-My name’s Greg. Oh man, oh god. Th-Theere’s some freaky shit in the water! Something that took over or possessed my friends or some shit! They tried to force me under.” He let out a few choked sobs as he spoke, unable to relax his breathing. “Please help me.”

The older man, the owner of the boat, handed Greg one a glass of water. “Hmph, quite the tale yer telling me,” he said, remaining calm. “Have a drink and calm down. Yer safe now.”

Nodding, the younger man took a swing before throwing the glass onto the river. He reacted too late. A film of blue slime already slid past his lips. The younger man collapsed onto the floor of the boat while the owner threw off his shorts and began to jerk it at the sight of a new convert. “Sorry, Greg,” the owner said, grin unnaturally wide. “Can’t letcha and yer shit friends get away without getting my own li’l payback. Yer li’l prank didn’t kill me, and now yer allllll my li’l playthings.”

Greg didn’t respond, body convulsing as his body was taken over by his former victim.