In-hair-atence

In-hair-atence

When they pass, some give money, others give land, and even a few are able to part with important mementos or family heirlooms. Me? I give people the honor of becoming my next vessel.

One a peaceful Sunday morning, I awoke with my little boytoy next to me. "Good morning, Hunter," I whispered sweetly as I gave him a tiny peck on his lips. Though the day had only just begun, I could feel my weary bones protest as I stirred.

This body was in its 60s, and I was beginning to reach the end of my rope with it. It had treated me well the past few decades, but it was time to move on.

"Good morning," said Hunter, smiling back. He always tried his hardest to reciprocate the love I showered him with, but we both knew he was merely faking. I had already paid his new luxurious apartment and had him placed in my will. As long as he played the part, his financial future was practically guaranteed. Once I croaked, he was free to spend my fortune however he wished.

That was fine for me as well. I wasn't ready to part with the money I had accrued during the centuries I had been alive. And his youthful, stupid vigor was exactly what I needed after spending so long inside this older body.

"I've got a little gift for you," I told him, chuckling when his eyes lit up as they always did. So predictable, so stupid. Digging into my nightstand, I pulled out a little box barely the size of my hand. "I want to see you wear it," I whispered as I handed it to him.

Hunter didn't pay much attention. He opened the tiny box and pulled out a tiny necklace. "Is this it?" he said, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice. He probably thought it was something more chic. His mood shifted when he noticed my incredulous look. "I didn't think it'd be so small is all. I love it!" he said, beaming at me with forced enthusiasm. I just smiled back and nodded, encouraging him to put it on.

The fool put i on without hesitation, and his fate was sealed.

As soon as the necklace was around his neck, the spell began to take form. "Huh, what the--?" was all Hunter was able to say before he collapsed on the bed, flat on his back. His body seized up as a tidal wave of magic crashed over the apartment bedroom.

I breathed out a sigh of relief as all sensations failed me. My body, nostalgic yet well-worn out, faded into nothing but dust as my essence was freed once more. Hunter could do nothing but look on in horror as his sugar daddy faded away and a body-stealing specter now hovered above him.

"Enjoy your gift," I whispered before plunging into him. He of course struggled, but his weak and vain soul was no match for my experienced self. I swiftly engulfed his essence into my own, feeling a lifetime of memories in the span of a few seconds, and rapidly expanded into his convulsing body.

"Ahh...! Aurgh... right there!" I gasped as I felt the sensation of filling a new vessel. His youthful vigor, the rug of hair all over him, and his bottomless libido... all of these came together as my hips thrust into the air, releasing a shower of cum all over my new form.

I opened my eyes and took my first breath. I was like a newborn. The world was so intense, so sharp, and so full of possibilities.

"So long, Mr. Grayson," I muttered. My old vessel used to be a dear friend before I stole his body. Now he was gone, and a new life was mine. "And hello to a sexy new me."

And the cycle began anew.

Wrestling with Heartache

Part 1/2

Kyle McCarthy fell madly in love at a time most college students did—in the middle of a hellish studying session for a class he despised. “Gotta make sure we get everything right…” he muttered to himself after chugging another full cup of ice cold coffee.

“Keep it together, Kyle,” said the young man right next to him. Kyle scowled but nodded. He looked over and wondered how a man so clearly drowning in exhaustion could still appear so beautiful.

His name was Michael Hayworth, top of the lightweight division. Despite it being his first semester on the team, he went undefeated in every meet. 'No doubt due to his disarming eyes,' thought Kyle. Once more, he got lost in those hazel whirlpools--

“Uh, Kyle? You still awake, buddy?” Michael said, still smiling as he handed Kyle another mug of coffee. “Here, this one’s still hot. It’ll wake you up. Just a half hour more and we should get some sleep.”

“O-Oh… uh, th-thank you.”

The following semester, Kyle applied to be a student manager for the wrestling team. After a tough interviewing period with coach Klaus Reynolds; a burly, no-nonsense man; Kyle spent more of his time with Michael despite sharing far fewer classes.

“Glad to see you got the job,” said Michael after a particularly sweaty day of practice. Just about the whole team was winded and groaning. The heat and dry air made their sweaty singlets stick uncomfortably close to their tight and toned bodies. However, even with the feast for the eyes that lied before him, Kyle’s gaze was still drawn to Michael and his radiant smile. “You’re the reliable kind, Kyle. Know you’ll do great!”

‘You’re wonderful, Michael,’ thought Kyle as he gathered up the used singlets and towels that the team had used the day before. Michael was truly one of a kind, and that only drove Kyle to possess such a man as he. Of course, Michael didn’t show much interested in a lanky and awkward guy like Kyle. Based on the dating app profile Kyle had found, Michael enjoyed bigger and heftier men.

‘Standing by Michael’s side,’ Kyle thought to himself, ‘would simply have to do.’

And it did… for a time. With each passing session, Kyle’s adoration and infatuation grew and grew. And with such a burning love came a frigid envy. The camaraderie that the wrestling team had with each other was something that Kyle was thankful for, but also deeply territorial towards. Each passing glance, loving touch, and accidental caress ignited heart pound with vitriolic and violent passion.

“Passion is a flame. It can provide or engulf,” Kyle’s roommate, a man at least a decade his senior, said. Though his hands were busy with the night’s meal, his ears were always free for friends. Armed with the patience of a monk and the shaggy hair of a hippie, Namba was a university student who applied late into the education system and studied to become a therapist. His enormous hair, rare for a man of his lineage, hid his eyes and gave him a unique appeared. Those that spoke with him often revealed far more than they intended, for they were able to speak to Namba without any judging eyes to put them on edge.

At least, that was Kyle’s hypothesis. For him, the lack of eye-contact with Namba made it easy for him to speak his mind. Long and awkward discussions about sexuality, lust, and just dirty talk were easy with the nonchalant Namba, who lived with a laissez-faire attitude.

“Please, continue,” said Namba, gesturing to Kyle. “I am curious to learn about your heartaches,” he continued without a hint of sarcasm.

“Wish I was a bit more like the other wrestling team members,” said Kyle as he washed the leftover dishes and arranged the utensils. Managing the equipment of the team was easy with a multi-tasking mind like his. He often joked that his hands had their own brains, but all three of them disagreed too much to make him a genius.

“So your wish is to be someone else?” said Namba as he set down a large pot of… something on the small kitchen table. Whatever it was, it smelled good.

“Hmm, I suppose. Michael’s so close to other members—especially guys like Nicholas or Zack. Oh man, now that guy." Kyle was about to go on a rant on the stoic man, but Namba warned him about tangents.

"Right, right," said Kyle, getting back on topic. "When me and the other team members talk, it’s nice. We get along fine. But it reeks of platonic interactions. Meanwhile, it always feels like the team members’ touching and groping each other, even when they play it off like jokes, last a little too much time.”

“Perhaps your passion is clouding your judgment? Or do you think it’s focusing your sight on the true enemy?”

“Calling them ‘enemies’ is a bit much… ‘Rivals’ is a bit more appropriate. We still get along.” Aside from the icy Zack and perhaps the stern and stoic coach Reynolds, Kyle could not recall any particularly bad interactions with the other team members. They thanked Kyle for doing work and approached him with friendly attitudes. It wasn’t bad at all, but somehow still disappointingly saccharine. Kyle wasn’t friends with any of the wrestling team members; they were merely coworkers. He could shoot the breeze, but not his shot. “If they were my enemies while I did their laundry and managed their stuff, then…”

“You’d be like those Victorian era heroines who secretly plotted the death of her lord while starching his clothes.”

“...A morbid comparison, but yes.”

“Well, my dear bed companion—“

“Please just use ‘roommate’ or ‘friend.’”

“—I have the solution to all our problems. Please, dine with me. A full stomach will calm your nerves.” Kyle shrugged and ate quickly. Eating from stress wasn’t anything new for him. He had gained a few pounds after entering university, and sadly most of it was not from muscle despite his semi-frequent visits to the gym.

“Dunno if I can have a ‘solution’ to this problem. Maybe I can work out some more,” said Kyle. He flexed a thin arm, grimacing as he saw the lack of real muscle. It had become far less flabby, but his genes and metabolism really let him down. At most, he could probably develop the body of a twunk if he went five days a week.

“That would be the preferred way, but younglings like you aren’t the type to wait around—and neither am I. It’s why I created this concoction.” Grinning, Namba gestured for Kyle to follow. The two left their dishes in the sink and made their way towards their next door neighbors. Often populated by a pair of twins and a friend, it seemed like the only one home at the time was Tim McDonald.

He was about Michael’s age, but had the personality of a man twice that. His round eyes comfortably slotted into a sour scowl or sneer. The trend continued as he answered the door to Namba’s loud and obnoxious knocking. “What?” he said, eyes narrowed as they peered back and forth between Michael and Namba.

Michael had never seen Tim crack a smile all semester. Most of the time, Tim shot one or two word responses and preferred to mind his own business. From what Michael had gathered, Tim was a business major with major ADHD. He wasn’t flunking, but it was clear that the time spent keeping his head above the academic waters soured his personality.

“Do you mind if we borrow some sugar?” asked Namba. “We have guests over and I forgot to purchase some more. My nan refuses to drink her tea without at least three sugar cubes’ worth.” Tim rolled his eyes, muttered something about old men, and slipped inside to look. While Tim’s back was turned, Namba stepped inside and snuck up behind him.

“Wha—“ Kyle began to say before Namba turned around and placed a finger over his lips before winking. He then bent his knees and jumped onto Tim.

Instead of an impact, Namba’s lithe yet hairy body sunk into Tim’s huskier frame. Tim let out a choked cry, back arching as a whole man slipped inside of him. He grabbed onto the kitchen counter, body convulsing as a few changes began to appear. His short, blond hair turned a shade darker and a big shaggier. Bangs that were usually combed back grew and covered his eyes much like Namba’s.

After a few moments of struggling, Tim let out a large, relaxed sigh. “Mmm, worked like a charm.” Spinning on the ball of his foot, Tim grinned and pointed at himself. “And that’s exactly the kind of gift you can do now, kiddo.”

“I… wha…?”

“It’s me, Namba!” he said. He slipped off Tim's shift and began to pose. "Mmm... this youthful body feels so much easier to move in that my own!"

After a bit of panic and a few questions, Namba detailed his plan to Kyle.

~o~

Three days. That was how long the concoction would remain in both of their systems. After that, they would need to prepare new broth. “Is this not what you wanted? To grow close to that man? Well, for a while at least, you can.” The effect of the concoction would allow one to ‘merge’ their soul with another body for a limit of 72 hours. No more. “It’s a small reprieve, but I believe you deserve it after such hard work. Perhaps it’ll even give you clues as to how to naturally grow closer to Michael with your own charm. Charm that you do possess, despite your protests.”

“But,” Kyle had asked, “What do you get out of it? You said this would solve a problem you had as well.”

“Ah, you see… I have little money to spare, and I ended getting a bit too invested at the slots and borrow some money from friends, so…”

“You’re worse than the freshmen.” Kyle had told him.

‘Becoming someone else,’ thought Kyle as he made his way to the laundry room. It was another Friday night, and he had been unable to decide on what to do with the gift Namba had granted. ‘Michael…? No. The coach? Maybe…?’

All Kyle wanted was to be close to Michael, if only for a day. Taking over one of the other wrestlers was the way to do so, but finding and isolating one of them would be the hard part.

However, luck would soon turn for Kyle as he made his way to the laundry room, the singlets and jockstraps of the team in tow. In the room, wearing only a pair of white briefs and little else, was a member of the wrestling team. Zackary Kuvaev. Tall, imposing, and often wearing a scowl on his stone-like face. When Kyle into the room, Zackary merely grunted in acknowledgement while glaring down at one of the laundry machines.

“Um, hello, Zack. Uh… run out of clothes…?”

“Roommates. Prank. Last clothes stained.” Only rarely did Zack’s voice and face betray much emotion. The only time that occurred was often when Michael wrapped an arm around the stoic Zack’s shoulders and…

Michael…

Zack continued to glare at the machine, not paying the slightest bit of attention towards Kyle. ‘He’ll regret that.‘ Kyle held no real malice towards Zack, but the envy and territorial rush of emotions in his chest overruled any sense of guilt he might’ve had.

Hesitation thrown to the wind, Kyle broke into a sprint and dived into Zack’s back. The older wrestler let out a startled gasp as another man suddenly fought him for dominance over his own body. No words were spoken, only shouts and groans as Zack collapsed onto his knees, clutching and clawing at his chest. “AHH…! Ahh…! AAAHHH!” Small patches began to sprout throughout his formerly smooth body, particularly around the arms, chest, legs, and armpits. His sharp and stoic face turned the slightest bit softer and rounder. Hawk-like eyes began kinder and his scowl became a look of pure wonder.

“It really did work…” muttered Kyle as he looked down at his beefy arms and masculine hands. The difference truly should’ve been just a few pounds of muscle, but the sheer energy and strength that coursed through his body was borderline euphoric. “Oh wow!” Kyle stood up on his toes and marveled at how graceful the movement felt. He paraded around the room, admiring each swing of his arms and his powerful gaits. Never Kyle’s life did he believe that his glutes could be so powerful.

 “Everytime he touches me, I feel electricity course my body. He’s wonderful. He’s divine. And I will make him mine.” Plunging smooth yet muscular arm into the laundry hamper, Kyle dug around until he found the singlet labeled Michael. With a madman’s grin, Kyle forced Zack to say, “Until then, I’ll have to satisfy myself with just this.”

It was a few size too small, but Kyle appreciated the singlet squeezing into his well-built body. He flexed and let out an involuntary moan. Zack’s cock, freely leaking, stained Michael’s singlet even further. “It smells just like him,” said Kyle. He squeezed and rubbed against the rubbery fabric, muttering Michael’s name the whole time. “I love you, I love you, I love you. Your scent, your smile, your slightly crooked grin, the kind way you speak, the way you move… oh…!” Just the thought of approaching Michael in such a performance drove Kyle’s mind to the peak of insanity. And also forcing Zack to do it all? Acting as a cum dumpster for the two of them? “OH…! Nnngh…. AAAARRRRGHHH!”

Kyle let out a guttural groan using Zack’s voice as his cock pumped load after load into Michael’s used singlet. Kyle could’ve sworn he saw white as the torrents of cum burst from Zack’s abused dick. His knees, already sweating and wobbly, gave out on him as he collapsed onto a messy, white-stained pile. His fingers, toes, and thighs continued to twitch as he rode the last of the climax. “Haahh...Haaaahhh…!”

Once Zack’s breathing was under control, Kyle stood back up and stretched. “That was… amazing…!” Kyle flexed Zack’s muscular arm again, still surprised at his control over him. “All right, let’s get this done!” He said, wearing a grin that Zack would never be caught dead showing off.

While nowhere near as intense as the masturbation, using another body while getting errands done felt erotic as well. Kyle bounced through the room, enjoying the way his body would gently sway with each movement.

Not too long after he finished doing the laundry, he received a response from Michael. “Finished chilling with some friends at the rec center. Just relaxing in my room rn. U?”

Cock already erect, Kyle told Michael that he was free to hang out. It took a few minutes, but Michael replied with a, “Sure! :D”

“Fuck yes!” Kyle cried out, pumping his fist high into the air as soon as he saw the message. He rushed through the campus, running full-sprint with Zack’s powerful legs as he made his way to Zack’s room to drop off the remain clothes.

Once he arrived, he quickly dressed Zack’s body in clothes more suited for the night air, but he also made sure to wear a jock-strap underneath. From what Kyle could gleam from Zack’s memory, he knew that Zack and Michael had fooled around on more than one occasion.

There was a streak of envy that rushed through Kyle’s heart, but he quickly reasoned that his ability would mean that Michael could belong to him.

Him and only him…

“Hey, nice to see ya,” said Michael. He wore a loose wifebeater and a pair of shorts that seemed so easy to tear off. Kyle put on a restrained smile and nodded. “Well, c’mon in! I swear, you act like such a robot sometimes,” Michael said as he pulled Zack inside, chuckling the whole time. Kyle could’ve sworn he had the smile of a cherub as he spoke. On and on, they chatted while sitting around in Michael’s empty apartment. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but…

Just being by Michael’s side, somehow for that night it satiated Kyle. They spent the night together playing video games, drinking some cheap beer Michael had in his fridge, and enjoying some bad Adult Swim shows. Throughout the night, Kyle intended to make moves on Michael and make him his own. And yet, some part of him was unable to commit. Even as the clock grew closer to 2:00 in the morning, Kyle was hardly able to do more than a simple flirt.

‘This isn’t how I figured it would go,’ Kyle thought to himself while Michael used the bathroom. His fantasies of pining Michael to the wall with Zack’s impressive physique evaporated into little more than idle dreams. Every time he would even think about making a move, some part of him withdrew. Was a fear of showing affection? Was Zack’s body doing something to him? And yet, when he stared into Michael’s charming smiles or soft chuckles, Kyle felt his heart flutter once more.

Then why? More than anything, Kyle wanted to love Michael, but…

“Hmm? Anyone I’m interested in?” Michael echoed. Just before the night wrapped up, Kyle, hoping that his desperation wasn’t quite so obvious, asked Michael once he left the restroom. A few beers went a long way to loosen the tongue. Kyle himself was fully well aware of that.

“Um… well, I kinda prefer older men,” began Michael. Grinning, he said, “Someone like Coach Reynolds, actually. Don’t tell anyone, though!” he chuckled like a schoolgirl gossiping about her friends. “He’s really hot. Someone like him—oh man, a thick and tough man like him is the best.”

‘Ah, so that was it.’

“How come you’re suddenly so interested?”

“No reason. Good luck on your love conquests., friend”

Michael chuckled again before turning over and lying down on the couch. “Good luck to you too…” he said. The sleepiness was audible in his voice. So he was that type of drinker. Kyle could feel his chest grow heavy as he felt a sudden urge to protect him. With just a bit of alcohol, anyone could take advantage of poor Michael. He really needed to remain straight and make sure that nobody laid a finger on his friend.

Kyle shook his head. Where had those thoughts come from? It was as if someone had turned a valve and allowed a flood of emotions and memories to fill Zack’s head. Were these… Zack’s inner thoughts? It made a certain amount of sense. Somehow, the thoughts didn’t “sound” like Kyle’s inner narrator—whatever that meant. He couldn’t explain, but it was a distinction that he could make.

“You’re too defenseless,” said Kyle. With slight hesitation, he placed a hand on Michael’s bare arm, and lightly rubbed it. It was only a slight touch, something that Zack had most likely experience many times over, but it was enough. Just for tonight, it was enough for Kyle.

“Your love. I hope it comes true.” Since starting university, Kyle had wished for someone to utter those words for him. At the very least, he could pretend that it was truly Zack giving his support.

“It’s… It’s not going… anywhere…” muttered Michael. Soon after, his gentle snoring felt heavy on Kyle’s borrowed ears.

‘Don’t be sure about that, Michael.’

"Hey bro, how does a crew battle work...?"

Hey, it's me again! The name's James. Last time we checked up like this, I hopped my roommate's body so he'd get better at fighting games. His name's Korrin, but he prefers Kor.

I gotta admit, these powers were a pretty sweet deal. He suddenly had a brand new genre to enjoy and I got to play with his body every once in a while. Seemed like a win-win, right?

Well, we got caught up talking just a bit too much shit during one of the weeklies. Think I ended up messing with my roommate's personality a bit too much while I was jerking off as him. He was far cockier than before I started taking over.

"Yeah, that's right. $500 crew battle," said Kor, flexing his muscles through the tight t-shirt I had mind-fucked him into preferring to wear. "Me and James could beat the shit outta everyone in this venue. Easy."

I wrapped an arm around his shoulder, saying, "Chill the hell out before you spend all our rent money," through clenched teeth. In response, he leaned over and gave me a deep kiss before talking more shit.

We didn't have to play everyone in the venue, but now we were stuck in a 4v4 crew battle; and Kor had successfully pissed off just about everyone who was a regular. We had two weeks to find two other guys to fill out our team or we'd be going hungry for the next month.

The ride home was quiet, although Kor didn’t seem to mind. He stared straight ahead, one hand on the steering wheel while another was on my thigh. Occasionally, he would squeeze while smiling at me. The way his eyes lit up whenever we were together dazzled me. I couldn’t stay mad at him, especially when it was my fault he was the way he was.

"Aww, don’tcha worry," said Kor as he massaged my shoulders, another trait I had bestowed him. My bed was a bit small for the two of us, and Kor had often wondered out loud if we could fit a queen sized bed in my room. “I’m sure we’ll find some guys. Even if they’re dead weight, you and me can wipe the floor with everyone there.” Before I could say anything, he leaned over and kiss my neck. I shivered, toes curling as he greedily licked one of my more sensitive spots.

After I let out a few… unbecoming moans, Kor pulled away and tittered. “Love making you cry out like that,” he said in a sensual tone. “Well, good night. Gotta get to the gym early tomorrow.”

As the door to his room shut close, I stared up at the ceiling and sighed. I had a few other friends that liked games, but they had no interested in fighting games like me. Of course, that had never stopped me before…

Two weeks should be enough time to make two pros, right?

The first guy on my list was Jason. He was a buddy of mine that I met in college. Smart, kind, and eager to show off the gains he'd made at the gym. "I spent three years to get this bod," he had bragged to me, showing off his toned and sweaty torso. Even so, he still enjoyed playing games, particularly RPGs. He was always throwing one my way or another--with tons of fan translations and cryptic guides as well.

I'd have to play one of them to completion one of these days to thank him for the service he was about to provide.

The night after Kor made his bet, I made my move. I locked my door and focused on flying. My body slowly lost its weight, density, and then mass in general. Skin peeled away and disappeared into dust, waiting for the chance to reform once my mission was complete. Organs twisted into neat little knots that blinked out of existence. My bones ground up against each other before vanishing.

It was only during those few precious moments that my soul was free. I sailed through the sky, unable to feel the wind on my face yet elated all the same. The moon was so close to my fingertips that it felt unfair that I couldn't grasp it. However, I knew exactly what I could grip instead.

I phased through Jason's apartment with little issue and found himself soon afterward. He was playing a battle simulator without a shirt on. "It's about a 73% to one-hit KO," he muttered to himself as he clicked through an innumerable amount of tabs. I knew for a fact some of them were months old and untouched for just as long.

Probably another habit I’d have to kick, but it was hard to focus on that when I kept focusing on that tight body he had. I would’ve licked my lips of I had any in that form. Not wanting to waste any more time, I hopped into him.

“Hnng…! Ahhh…hah…!” Jason let out a moan, tongue sticking out involuntarily as a shiver of pleasure ran all throughout his body. “Wh-what the fuck—is happening—“ Jason moaned as he turned around and began to hump his seat cushions. “AH! NRGH AAAAAHHHH!” Any words Jason would’ve tried to cry out were soon overpowered by panicked pants of pleasure. His hands, which would’ve normally reached for his phone to call for help, could only play with his chest and sensitive nipples.

My will overpowered his own, but Jason didn’t seem to mind. He kicked off his shoes, socked toes curling up in pleasure, and rubbed his trembling body all over the coach. “I-I…! K-Keep go—OOAHH—Keep going!” He said, panting and laughing the whole time. His back arched once more as he let out a strangled scream while his erect cock spewed semen all over his shorts. Jason, mind drowning in a hurricane of euphoria curtesy of me, collapsed covered in a sweaty, semen-covered mess.

Eventually, I opened my new eyes and felt my chiseled body. “Mmm, oh Jason. Let’s get your hand-eye coordination to my level.” As I began to strip so I could play in the nude, I saw angry DMs from Jason’s opponent.

Smirking, I walked over to the laptop and messaged him back. “Sorry bro, too busy playing games and fucking bussy to play with a pussy like you. GG you win, loser.”

I laughed as I got another stream of profanities from Jason’s old opponent, but I didn’t care. I was covered in sweat, smelling like a real man, while I was playing my favorite game.

Once Jason was done and truly mind-fucked, I had one more person I needed to visit.

First Impressions

Coming home from another exhausting day, Lydia threw herself onto her couch and screamed into a cushion.

“Hey Lyd,” her husband Carlos said as he came into the living room. Chewing on some leftover chocolate cake from the fridge, he sat down on the other side of the sofa, taking one more bite and swallowing before asking, “‘nother rough day?” The crumbs were probably all over the living room by now… to Lydia's immense chagrin.

“The hell do you think?” said Lydia, the pillow muffling her voice. She looked up and glared at her annoying beloved. “More asshole clients not interested in my business proposals for like the 12th time this week, motherfuckers that lose any and all interest as soon as they hear my voice over the phone, and every smug prick that landed a deal just telling me, ‘Just work hard, this is a meritocracy! Nobody thinks less of you cuz you’re a woman.’” She made sure to put on her ‘bro-voice’ as she regurgitated the same garbage everyone of her male peers that managed to keep getting sales said to her.

“Damn, I’m sorry honey.” Carlos shifted over and began to massage her back. Lydia let out a low moan as Carlos worked his magical hands once more. The knots in her back slowly untangled and her head began to clear. It was so difficult to think with all the stress causing her head to turn all soupy. “I just wish there was something I could do.”

“... There is something I’ve been thinking about.”

“Oh?”

“You’re on vacation starting tomorrow, right? Three weeks?”

“Yeah…?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything.” Carlos continued asking, but Lydia insisted nothing was wrong. She also had to make sure that she would get out of work after just a few more days. All she needed to do was meet with a few more clients and they could enjoy the summer together.

Carlos still seemed incredulous, but eventually he relented and walked back to his office. “You’re the best, honey,” said Lydia before he shut the door behind him. Carlos looked over his shoulder and beamed at her with a loving glint in his eyes. Because of his job as a programmer and debugger, most of his work could be done at home. The rest of his time was spent taking care of some errands that Lydia was either too tired or simply hated doing (mainly cooking and taking care of any bugs or spiders). 

It also made it convenient whenever Lydia needed to take a break from herself, without his knowledge of course.

The rest of the day was spent recuperating from the day’s stress. A few rhythm game rounds and a scalding hot shower was enough for Lydia to regain her upbeat and chipper personality. Around midnight, the two of them cuddled in the bed.

They had been married for months, but somehow holding each other beneath the sheets never got old. In fact, it somehow got more personal and intimate with the passing months. Light kisses on skin, stroke and caressing flesh that smelled like home, and the faint yet steady heartbeat never failed to relax Lydia’s mind and allow her to comfortably slip into a lengthy slumber.

Tonight was the sole exception.

“Mind if I’m the big spoon this time?” Lydia whispered to a half-asleep Carlos. Opening just one tired eye, Carlos just mumbled something and nodded before flipping over. Lightly tittering to herself, Lydia wrapped her arms around Carlos and squeezed him tight. She rubbed her face against his back and took a whiff. Chestnuts--the scent of his favorite conditioner. Lydia was truly glad she had introduced such a world of bathroom supplies to him.

“You’re the perfect man,” Lydia muttered, her voice muffled as she buried her face into the space between his neck and shoulder. “You won’t remember, but I almost feel bad for doing this.”

Carlos was barely even able to let out a questioning hum before Lydia’s body began to slip inside of him. Carlos let out a gasp as his body tightened in response to the sensual penetration. It wasn’t too dissimilar to the first time Lydia had pegged him. “Huh—! Whu—! Oh…WOAH!" 

Lydia didn’t stop her possession. She thrust into Carlos, her petite yet rotund form slipping into Carlos’s thinner and hairier body. Carlos let out muffled moans as she shoved his face into a pillow with her free arm. He could do nothing as Lydia humped her hips further into his own fatter and hairier hips. His legs kicked and convulsed on the bed as he could hardly struggle. 

“I love you, Carlos,” Lydia whispered, licking his sweaty neck. “I just need to borrow you for a few…” She nibbled on his ear lobe. Most of her legs had already melted into his. Not too long afterward, she pushed her chest into his own. She giggled at the sound of Carlos’ long, drawn-out moans as her boobs became replaced with his pectorals. “It’s nice being a man from time to time. So big and hairy…” she muttered to him.

Carlos’ continued to moan, breathing deeply as Lydia fucked herself into him. Soon, she was comfortable enough to drop her free arm and force it into his own. “Haah…! Haaahh… you’re a kinky one, Lyd…” he said in between fast, tense moans.

“I know, baby,” she said, half her head already phasing through his wider back. “I know.” As the last of Lydia melded into Carlos, he let out a long moan and collapsed onto his back. His hips thrust into the air over and over as Lydia acclimated herself inside of him. Each limb was dangerously full.

“HAAAH! H-Holy shit… I-I’m… I’m--!” Then, with one last hump, Carlos’ cock exploded all over his boxers. “Ahh… Ahh… J-Just… Just do whatever you want, babe…” he said in between labored pants as he lost consciousness. Although it felt like a completely new experience, it was truly the third or fourth time this had happened. And just like the previous times, Carlos would believe that it was just a strange and hazy dream from a mind that needed to be a little more open to experimenting in the bedroom.

At least, that was what Lydia would tell him.

Speaking of…

Lydia let out a moan as she felt her borrowed muscles and the familiar weight of Carlos’ body. She stretched her toned and hairy limbs with a little giggle. It wasn’t fair that Carlos always got to feel like that whenever he woke up. It was part of the reason why Lydia would always rub up against him in the morning. She just couldn’t get enough of the muscle and hair. However, as the giddiness of yet another successful possession began to wear off, Lydia found herself yawning and slowly drifting off to sleep. Taking over another’s body always took quite a bit of energy, for both the possessor and the host body.

Tomorrow was a new day for Lydia.

“Great, glad to hear it!” Lydia said with Carlos’ deep and friendly voice as she spoke to her fourth client.

“And I’ll follow this meeting up with an email with more details of the deal. Mm-hmm, mm-hmm,” she said, giving Carlos’ cock a nice and firm stroke. None of her clients had any idea that the man they were speaking to was Lydia’s husband. Being able to roleplay and pass off as her husband to these strangers, knowing that she was able to fool these sexist pigs that would’ve sneered and turned up their noses at just the sound of her voice, light up Lydia’s borrowed loins. “Thank you so much for your time and have a great day!” Lydia forced Carlos to say before hanging up.

She threw Carlos’ head back and let out a loud, unbecoming moan as her borrowed cock grew to full mast in her grip. She threw an arm back and took a whiff of Carlos’ natural musk. “Mmm, Carlos. Just another day of me inside and we can get our vacation started. I just have a few more clients to talk to.” She chuckled as she flexed a bit more in her husband’s body. Lydia was already done with all the clients in her schedule. She had some privacy for the rest of the day…

“Oh, Carlos…!” she said as she began to explore her husband’s body once more.

Galactic LARPing

"And your character is...?"

Asmodeus puffed his borrowed chest out and declared, "I am Asmodeus the healer! Injured, just come to me and I'll cure you in no time." Then, Asmodeus pursed his lips and winked to the joy of the other players. A few even blushed.

It was a cute pose that his host would never do, but under the control of a LARPing alien determined to stay in character, he had no choice.

Next up was Minot. "Rogue." To better get into character, he adjusted the hat and adopted a far more reserved personality. After a brief pause, he adjusted his hat to better hide his eyes. The group cheered and clapped for his performance. It was simple but effective for the strong and silent rogue. Minot's host mentally moaned, ashamed at how much he was forced to expose due to his bodysnatcher.

"And I am Daxtrus, the ultimate sage of legend. Do not worry, o treasured friends of mine. My mythical and dark spells will protect us in the many battles to come!" Daxtrus took a deep breath and then did his pose. When asked if it hurt, Daxtrus chuckled and said, "No worries, this body is quite flexible."

Daxtrus' could only recoil as he felt how much his body was forced to stretch. He would certainly be sore in the morning!

"I AM RATHOLS, THE WARRIOR! Oh! Sorry...!" For a moment, the older and muscular man slumped and shrunk away when the other players complained about his loud voice. "Lemme try again..." Clearing his throat, Rathols flexed and shouted, "I am Rathols, the warrior! Let us conquer and claim this land in the name of our kingdom, good fellas. Ho ho!" with a boisterous, exaggerated laugh. While excessive and not at all what his host would do, it got the party rilled up and in a good mood again.

Rathol's host could only scream as he remained a prisoner in his own head.

"And I am Qual, the dancer," he said, placing his palms together and bowing. "Let my dance bring you pleasure and joy..." Qual let out a slow and seductive sigh. He posed and moved the stolen body to emphasize the curves, much to his host's chagrin. It was a traditional garb, and this alien was using it to roleplay as a whore!

"Well, seems like we're all set. You all picked such great bodies! Luckily, the game I've got planned will go for lots and lots and sessions." Inwardly, all the hosts cried and moaned in despair.

"Well then, let's begin the session! We start our story with..."

Wow, glad to see you guys liked that one. If you were in the “Tag, You’re it!” group chat, who’d you show off?