Male Body Possession - Tumblr Posts

“Bro, how does a quarter-circle work?”

It was difficult trying to introduce my roommate into fighting games. He had taken an interest in some of them after I hosted a couple friendlies over at our shared apartment. Initially, I had been real excited to finally have something to bond over with him.

Sadly, I hit the first hurdle real quick.

“What the fuck is a quarter-circle?” The only way to describe his expression is ‘the first man to discover the platypus.’

Still, I was optimistic. Everyone had to start somewhere, right? I had placed a hand on his shoulder, gushing inwardly at the slight touch we shared, and told him, “Don’t worry, I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

It had only been about two days before he got mad and threw one of the custom controllers I had bought. Luckily it landed on a cushion, but that certainly splashed a bucket of cold water on my little crush on him.

Still, my hope for him hadn’t died at that point.

“It’s fucking bullshit!” he said, glaring at the Player 1 Wins still on screen. He pointed at my character’s smirk and smug victory pose while shouting, “Your character’s just bullshit. And I don’t know the goddamn special inputs.” All he had been able to do was just mash the face buttons and not tried any of the tech I had patiently explained to him at least half a dozen times.

“Well, that’s what practice is for--”

“I dunno.” The anger had begun to leave his face, leaving just disappointment in its wake. “Maybe I’m never gonna get it.” Chest deflating, he left the room and left me alone in the couch, mindlessly twiddling the joysticks.

To preface the situation I currently find myself in, I figured that if my roommate didn’t have the drive to develop the muscle memory and skill needed to do the inputs, could I do it for him? The hope hadn’t entirely died, but it blossomed into something else entirely. The idea had wormed itself into my head and possessed me entirely.

And so, I funneled into him. It wasn’t easy. He had struggled hard as the wisps of gray smoke I turned myself into entered his body. His body tightened and flexed as my invading force entered him. I didn’t miss the way that his erection poked just beneath the fabric of his shorts.

And so, alone in our shared apartment, I began the grind for him. Of course, I figured that I should make myself comfortable while I did him this favor. So I stripped his of his clothes and played nude. I gotta say, I’d recommend it. Felt so freeing as I climbed the online ladder with my nuts hanging.

Now he’s begging me to take him to the weeklies I go to on Saturdays. Gotta say, it’s been pretty nice gaming with a guy I live with. Of course, that’s not the only reason why I feel so much closer to him.

This is probably a bad habit of mine, but I can’t stop hopping into him and getting a nice session in. He doesn’t seem to believe I’m the one controlling him. Maybe next time I can jerk off inside of him. Sorry for the bad pun, but I think I’d like to play with his joystick next ;)

Back Home

It’s always difficult leaving your hometown, even after you’re dead! However, I spent the last couple of months of so bodyhopping throughout the country. It was good to take in the sights and the various types of men out there. Next time I go on one of these little “vacations,” it would be outside the country. But for now, I was happy to be flying back home to the east coast.

I was quite familiar with the gay scene there, enough so that I had “regulars” I would jump into. Some other ghosts and creatures I’ve met could just float or astral project through the air, but I could only get by through touch. No flying for me, ‘cept on a plane. Luckily a business DILF on a work trip just so happened to be heading to my hometown.

I was staying at a nice AirBnB, but I still didn’t quite feel right. This guy was basically a tourist, nothing like the fellas that make up this place’s gay scene. Of course, all I needed to do to truly feel right at home was to call one of them up and get inside of him.

Stripping down, I snapped some pics and made a Grindr account for this guy. Not long after I got quite a few responses. Hmm... I decided I would become Vincent for tonight.

He always had a thing for guys in suits. “And then seeing the tie and shirt on the floor,” he would always tell me as I inhabited one of his friends. “Ahh! It’s like a dream come true!” He gushed on and on about it, but I made sure to listen. These fellas were like my family by now. They might as well be! I knew them inside and out.

Vince came by around eight, and I was all ready for him. “Lemme take care of ya, big boy,” I said in a sultry voice, uncommon for guys with lungs like these. Vincent bit his bottom teeth and agreed. I pinned down on the bed and went to town on him with my lips. I didn’t wanna fuck him or ride his dick just yet. Nah, that was for when I was home.

“Fuck! Yeah, don’t--AH! Don’t stoppp...!” Vincent moaned, toes curling as my years of cocksucking made him go mad with pleasure. Then, my essence leapt out of the DILF through his mouth and into him. “AHHH! Ohh, oh my--FUCK!”

Vincent cried out and began to tremble as the DILF collapsed to the side and slid off the bed. He trembled and convulsed as my invading presence engulfed his own and forced him to sleep.

I let out a gasp and stretched my arms. I had been Vincent quite a few times, and his body felt almost as comfortable as my own when I was alive. The way he loved his nipples played with and those cute little moans of his. Yeah... this felt nice.

“I’m home.”

Rest Stop

"N-No... please..." Jason groaned, unable to stop as his arms began to play with his chest and nipples. Electric sensations and pure bliss filled his mind as the world around him became grew fainter.

It had begun with a small, almost invasive, breeze flowing through the plains. Then, his belt fell to the ground as his buttons became loose. Jason wasn't sure what was happening, but he was certain he felt some sort of phantom sensation grope and play with him.

Then it began to spread throughout his body through his ass crack. He threw his head back, leaning up against a cliff, moaning like a slut in heat as his body was invaded. Jason blushed as he felt his cock stiffen at the sensation.

"N-No... ngh...! AAAHHH!" His cock, having leaked precum for the past few minutes, stiffened as it shot out load after load of white sticky semen. Jason let out a cry of despair and relief as his eyes rolled up the back of his head. It was a sweet relief, but it didn't last long as he lost consciousness. His body convulsed in the desert heat, propped up only by the cliffside.

Eventually, Jason's body stilled as he slowly opened his eyes. His hands explored each new patch of skin as though it wasn't his own. "Thanks fer the bod, cowboy," said the entity that took over Jason. "Don't worry, I'll treat ya reaaaal nice."

Acidic Emotions

Scott had been able to escape. His son was just lithe enough to escape out the basement window. The thought of that was almost comforting to Mr. Wilson as the gelatinous creature lurched closer to him.

The lime-green creature had become about as large as the doorway it was passing though. In fact, it almost seemed to struggle to fit through.

With a deep sigh, Mr. Wilson stared down the creature with a defiant glare. He had seen the way it had dissolved pieces of the couch the couch, his shoes, and several other items. Whatever composed the creature was likely acidic. Now that it had its prey, Mr. Wilson, trapped, it eagerly “rushed” as much as a limbless cube could do.

Mr. Wilson sighed and shut his eyes. He tried to reposition himself to allow blood to flow back into his thighs, but quickly stopped with a hiss of pain. In trying to outrun the creature, he had fallen down the steps and either broke his hip or badly dislocated it.

Scott, bless his soul, had tried to help him. Though about to enter a prestigious college, Scott was still blissfully unaware and inexperienced in the danger of the world. Before he wasted too much time on a lost cause, Mr. Wilson roughly grabbed his wrist.

“Go get help, boy. Go on, get outta here!” Mr. Wilson had cringed at his son’s hurt expression as well as his own foul tone. Yet… what else could he do? He could only hope that his son had enough sense to escape and not look back.

“Just wish it was a quick death,” Mr. Wilson muttered as the slime now stood before him. It transparent mass jiggled like jello and distorted the light that crossed it in an otherworldly manner. Mr. Wilson tilted his head in confusion as he peered deeper into the slime. It didn’t move to attack him, and yet its body still seemed to twist and contort.

Mr. Wilson saw himself, but not quite himself. It was a reflection that was much happier and practically bursting with life. His posture was much better, his smile was nearly blinding with none of the usual crookedness his own did, and his eyes—lime tinted as they were—were hypnotic to look at.

“I… I-I… I understand.” Ignoring the burning pain in his hip, Mr. Wilson crawled over to the creature and slowly dove inside.

The inside was cool yet oddly warm. It was as if the liquid-like specimen was caressing and massaging his body with thousand of fingers. He kept his mouth shut, afraid of swallowing any of the slime. However, the erotic sensation of having all the pores and hairs of his rubbed and worshipped caused him to nearly moan and scream in pleasure. His legs whipped back and forth, thighs quivering as he wished both for sweet relief and for the slime bath to never end.

Feet, chest, armpits, and neck—all of them were touched and loved in a way they had never been before. The pressure continued to build in Mr. Wilson’s core as dark spots danced in his vision. Precum built up at the tip of his cock, bouncing and trembling with every passing second. Then, just as the pleasure began to melt his brain, Mr. Wilson opened his mouth to moan.

The slime took its chance to strike. It flooded into Mr. Wilson's mouth in a relentless torrent. However, Mr. Wilson could no longer even panic. All he could do was indulge and convulse in pleasure as the creature overtook his body.

It only took about five minutes. All that remained was just slivers of lime-green essence scattered throughout the floor and the man that contained the creature's essence. Mr. Wilson's body licked its lips before rising into a sitting position. It looked down at its new vessel, head tilted with curiosity as it stared at the tattered remains of its shirt. For whatever reason, the material didn't react well to its chemical composition.

Well, it didn't mind. With a pleasure groan, the creature stood up and began to pace around the room, testing out its new beefy thighs and large feet. Just the simple act of walking was a brand new world to the slime. Soon after it began to jog around the room, body jiggling and bouncing as it moved without care. Mr. Wilson's injured hip was completely cured. All the slime did was lock back into place and replenish the torn muscle. It was an easy fix for one so linked to Mr. Wilson's body.

A voice called into the basement. Then, footfalls. "Hey, Bill? Uhh... Howdy?" The slime paused, suddenly feeling a rush of embarrassment--something no doubt left over from the slime's absorption of Mr. Wilson's mind--as another man descended the stairs. No, not only that. It was a familiar face. A family friend, Jon, scratched the back of his neck as he approached. "The hell happened to yer clothes?"

A stream of memories revealed all the slime needed to know. Jon was an old friend of the family--oftentimes coming by to help either move a couch or help with a leaky pipe.

"Jon!" The slime said, mimicking Mr. Wilson's voice without flaw. It stopped to adjust the hard-on hidden in the remnants of Mr. Wilson's tattered jeans. Something about pretending to act like Mr. Wilson seemed to give a rush of domination of the slime. It was unlike anything it had felt before.

However, it had a more pressing concern. The man right in front of him was... enticing. A rush of affection washed over Mr. Wilson's body, and the slime eagerly indulged in that tidal wave of chemicals. Lust, love, confusion, self-loathing--it was a vast spectrum of emotions that it had never been able to experience before, not until that very moment.

And so, the slime approached Jon and placed a hand on his arm. Jon initially flinched away from the touch. "Uhh, hey Will, ya sure yer okay? Yer actin' strange."

"Not strange," said the slime, using Mr. Wilson's cracked and crooked lips to smile fondly. How long have these lips remained unused? it wondered, briefly lost in its own thoughts. "I just... want you to understand how much you mean to me."

A film of lime green briefly flashed over Mr. Wilson's eyes. That was enough for a spell of lust and confusion to fog over Jon's mind. Though still unsure of the situation, his resolve against the slime weakened. Skin met skin as sensual shockwaves rocked both of their minds. The slime wanted more pleasures of the flesh while Jon's heart began to race.

"Kiss me," said the slime through Mr. Wilson. Jon nodded and threw himself onto Mr. Wilson. The two men fell back onto the floor. Jon's weight gave the slime a comfortable pressure on its borrowed chest. It wasn't unlike a weighted blanket--another experience it had plucked from Mr. Wilson's memory.

The two made out for several moments, grinding and humping against each other. Then, Jon pulled away and began to slip off his shorts with one hand. "Been waitin' so long fer this...!" he whispered, smirking to himself as he revealed he had been going commando the whole time. "Fill me with yer cock, Bill! Plug me fool."

The slime was only too happy to oblige. It threw Mr. Wilson's head back as Jon rode the cock like a cowboy. "C'mon...! C'mon, cum fer me, boy." Jon muttered wildly, sweat causing his shirt to cling to his skin as he worked his hips like magic.

Then, it happened. The slime felt Mr. Wilson's core tense up before it found itself shooting loads of cum into Jon's ass. "Yeeeee-haw!" cried out Jon, flexing his arms as he rode out his own climax. The slime giggled to itself as it felt the warm semen splatter all over Mr. Wilson's face. However, as the sensation of its climax began to wane, the slime felt parts of itself shoot out of Mr. Wilson's cock alongside the cum.

"Hey--woah! Damn, Bill, ya cum like a stallion!" said Jon, finally growing suspicious. "H-Hey, what the fuck--?!" He let out a strangled cry as his limbs began to grow numb. "B-Bill, get help. Ple-Please...!" The slime, head resting on its borrowed hands, just grinned as Jon struggled.

From the memories it had, the slime knew that Mr. Wilson's son might just come back in a vain effort to save his father. Perhaps he could also dump a fat load of itself into him. It could already feel euphoria as Jon's mind and plugged hole filled its long list of experiences.

"Keep riding me, Jon. C'mon, cowboy!"

Beach Bummin' it

I gotta be honest, having massive tits isn't nearly as exciting as people online made it out to be. It only took a couple orgasms before I got bored and started just messing around with this guy.

He was some rando I found as I made my way to the beach. When his back was turned and no one was looking, I lunged into his back and slipped into his body. Boy, was he moaning like a slut! He couldn't help but rub his legs together as I took over.

After blowing a few loads in the bathroom, I made my way down the beach and kinda just... hung out. It was too hot trying to bother picking anyone up, and I didn't really feel like it. So here I was, playing Pokemon Yellow on an old Gameboy I kept in my car--not his, mine.

The spell's good for 24 hours. Can't leave this guy until I spend a whole day inside of him. Might just head over to my place and just play games the whole day.

Guess I'm not an exciting bodysnatcher, huh?

"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.

Tag, you're it!

Some buddies of mine started this little group chat called, "Tag, you're it!" Since we're able to perform the possession spell, more details on that story later, we've been messing around with it. We're all either gay or bi, so we generally try and take over some sexy man and show off for the rest of the guys.

Last night, Juliet posted a picture of herself in her dad's body, showing off a nice and sexy selfie for all of us to drool over.

The caption read, "Tag, you're it, Shawn. Give us something y'know we'll like ;)"

It was gonna be tough to top that, but I was confident. Luckily, my veteran uncle was staying over at our place for a few days, so this was the perfect opportunity.

I waited until my uncle went to take a bath to start my plan. The way my friends and I managed to do this was by melting down into some kind of slime and slithering inside our hosts. Luckily, being able to cling to surfaces and move with little sound made it easy to sneak up on our victims.

I easily slid under the door and slithered through the tiled floor. Steam filled the air as the hot bath had only recently been drawn. I heard the metal screech as my uncle turned the water off. "Mmm, nice and hot..." he muttered. His deep and velvety voice pushed me over the edge. I needed to be him, and I needed it now!

He was wearing a towel, covering my favorite point of atttack, but I didn't care. I leaped towards my uncle's crotch with little fear in my gooey heart. "What the FUUUUUCK?!" My uncle cried out as my slime slid under the towel and engulfed his dick and balls, already slithering inside. He let out a moan as he fell backward onto the ground.

Legs spread out as though I was fucking him, my uncle squirmed and convulsed on the ground as I took him over. Slowly, as my slime invaded each cell of his body, I felt the disorienting yet still pleasurable sensation of having something slither inside of my borrowed form. I was not only stealing my uncle's body, but also his experiences.

It truly was like something was both sucking me off and fucking me at the same time. My uncle's thighs, soon to be my thighs, quivered in anticipation. My core tightened as I pumped more and more of myself into him. Then, as his panicked consciousness slowly faded into dormancy, I cried out as I finally climaxed all over myself. Ropes of cum splashed all over my chest, some shots even landing on my drooling face.

"WOAH! Ohhh... oh that's good..." I muttered, chuckling as I felt my adam's apple bounce. Mmm, you're such as sexy-ass man, uncle Roger..." I said. Getting up on my uncle's now sore legs, I stumble over to the mirror and admired myself.

"Hmm... good thing Shawn's enjoying himself in his room. Otherwise, he might see his sexy uncle playing with himself." I said, smirking at my little roleplay. "Oh yeah..." I threw away the towel and let my manhood flop around. "No point covering up this li'l fella, right? Gotta let the whole world see." I was about to step out until I saw the hot bath out of the corner of my eye. I grinned as my uncle's dick grew hard again.

"I drew this bath for myself, might as well enjoy it. I deserve it, after all." I stepped into the water and let out a deep groan. Taking a picture for the group chat could wait. For now, I just wanted to get to know my uncle with the help of some soap and water.

"N-No... you're... you can't..."

Charles was always a fighter. This was about the fifth or sixth time I had taken him over, but I could tell his resistance was slowly starting to diminish. Now I could finally take him over in public and have little attention drawn to us--aside from the occasional face of effort.

Now then, which hunk am I gonna take home tonight?

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..."

"How Does Managing a Team Work?"

Back at it again! It’s James. Quick recap, managed to recruit another friend of mine to join our crew battle that my roommate, Kor, wrangled us into. Now we were three for the crew battle, myself, Kor, and Jason.

I just needed one more guy to help round out the crew and all we would need after that was just to practice. Luckily, I think I had a good idea.

The guy’s name? Ronaldo. I hadn’t seen him in any sort of e-sports or gaming clubs, but I did hang out with him one time at a barcade. He was more Kor’s friend than mine, which made it clear that he was a pretty hetero guy with little time to worry about nerdy hobbies. However, one thing I did notice about him was how much of a killer he was at rhythm games.

“I’ve never even played this game before, but I like dancing. I was even in a band back in high school. And I like to DJ on the side,” Ronaldo had told me during that night. In all honesty, I hardly remember his exact words. He was far too busy throwing out just about every crowning achievement he’d ever had since birth to pay attention to my reactions. But I became a believer once I saw what he could do.

Ronaldo was a master of rhythm. To my utter amazement, he never missed a single note. No matter how much he cranked up the difficulty nor how sweaty his toned body got, Ronaldo kept dancing with a serene grin on his face. His feet were like magic.

The game threw torrents of notes at Ronaldo, but he didn’t slow down. Not only that, but he had also performed patterns and movements I had no idea one could do with his arms. The night had ended with his shirt completely soaked and me completely in awe. “What did I tell you?” he asked as soon as he saw my expression.

Ronaldo was amazing and exactly what we would need for the crew battle.

“Ronaldo?” Kor said, face scrunching up once I mentioned him. The two of us were eating dinner together. As had become tradition, Kor didn’t wear a shirt. “You wanna bring that guy in? Why?” If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought he looked rather crestfallen. Or maybe concerned? However, I didn’t put too much thought into it.

Kor continued with, “C’mon, we’ve already got a good team with you, me, and Jason. We don’t even need anyone that skilled, just some schmuck benchwarmer.” He smirked and flexed his arm.

“You saw him at the barcade,” I said. Jason frowned and his arm slumped down. Was he disappointed?

Ignoring that, I continued talking. “We could use everyone we can get. So just let me convince him. Y’know I’ve got a silver tongue.” Kor tensed up at my words, but he didn’t say anything. However, he made sure to tenderly stroke my thigh with his hand under the table. I blushed and told him, “Relax. You’re still the best player I’ve ever known.”

To be honest, I wasn’t sure exactly what Kor and I were. I had completely and utterly messed with his mind. Before, he was a straight man who just wanted to get into my hobby because it looked fun. Now he had a homosexual fighting game genius with what I could only assume was a crush on me. Whether we were behind closed doors or as public as we could be, Kor always made sure to slip in tender touches and kisses whenever he could. It was as if he was showing off to everyone that, “Yes, here he is. And here we are. And he is mine.”

I didn’t mind it. No, more than that. I loved it. I had never received attention like this before. However, there was a lingering feeling of guilt that began to take root in my chest the more Kor flirted and teased me. These emotions weren’t completely authentic, they were thoughts I had infected him with while possessing him. So was this infatuation fake? Should I try to turn him back?

‘Questions for another day,’ I thought as I shut the door to my room behind me. I couldn’t allow myself to start hesitating now. If I did, then Kor and I would be sleeping on the streets next month. Not for the first time, I wondered if I should take over some rich bastards and drain some of their bank accounts, but doing something like that needed levels of planning I didn’t have time for just yet. I would give it more thought later.

I spread myself on my bed and took a deep breath. My body once more morphed into gray smoke and took the skies once more. Again, that feeling of flight was addicting, almost more so than the feeling of possession.

“Yeah, Sophie, y’know I love you…” Ronaldo lay on his bed, chuckling as he spoke into his phone. Next to him was his laptop. I peered closer to see who he was messaging and noticed the name of another girl with several… lewd emojis.

“Aight, I’ll see ya soon, then. Love you.” He audibly smooched before hanging up. With a practiced hand, he peeled his boxers down and revealed his erect cock just as the woman he was messaging sent her a nude. He licked his lips and then got to work pumping his dick.

‘Disgusting,’ I thought to myself. Any amount of regret or reservations I had about possessing Ronaldo went out the window. I took a deep breath and made my way inside of him. The most way I figured would be through that big, juicy cock of his.

Ronaldo let out a gasp as his pecker suddenly became erect. “Wh-Whoah, what the—oooOOOHH!” He grit his teeth as a sudden stream of energy started pumping into his cock. He could do nothing but lie on the bed, his whole body convulsing as I ruthlessly surged into him tight and toned core.

First I felt the soft sheets rubbing against my skin. Then I felt bloating sensation, as though I would burst with the force of two people within me. After that was the pleasure that coursed throughout every pore of Ronaldo’s body—two souls becoming enraptured in a fight for dominance. However, he was far more submissive than I. My soul stomped his, forcing it to “kneel” to my whims as he lost consciousness.

‘Let’s make this fun for you and I…’ I whispered to Ronaldo’s struggling soul.

“What the fuck—OH!”

Simply possessing Ronaldo wasn’t gonna cut it. I wanted to make sure that this little trip inside of him taught him a reason about fidelity. To do that, I made the experience as slow as possible.

I ran Ronaldo’s trembling hands down his thighs before massaging his pecs, making sure to pinch and play with his nipples. I got a massive rush out of doing that, and so did he. I could feel his legs tremble and his teeth suddenly bite down on his lower lip to prevent any embarrassing noises from getting out. However, I wasn’t gonna let him spoil my fun like this.

Seizing control for a brief second, I opened Ronaldo’s mouth and let out an enormous, lustful moan that would make a whore proud. He immediately covered his mouth, turning red from the shame.

“F-Fuck...I’m… I’m gonna…!” Ronaldo’s pleasured moans echoed throughout the room as his hips buckled beneath the force of my soul taking him him. His eyes shot wide open as cum burst from his engorged launched wave after wave of semen high into the air, landing all over his sweaty chest and core. Ronaldo, covered in a sheen of sweat, could only gasp and writhe as he passed out and allowed me full control over him.

I awoke soon afterward. His whole was sore, but I didn’t mind. I rubbed his hips against the sheets a few more times, letting out cute little noises the whole time, before stretching in bed. “Welcome to the team, Ronaldo,” I said as I got to work.

Of course I played with barely anything on. It’s practically tradition at this point! I made sure to snap a quick selfie and send it to myself as material for later on.

I had my crew. Now we just needed to practice.

Sorry, dad

I know what I did was wrong, but it just felt so good. I flexed the stolen arm in front of the mirror, admiring the muscle and armpit hair I was borrowing.

'Please, let me go...' My father begged from inside his own head, but I told him to shut it. 'I-I'm not gay, right...? It's hard to remember. Someone, please help.' His voice sounded faint, which made it easier to ignore.

I slithered into my father because I had used his photos to catfish my university's coach. At first, I just wanted to get his nudes, but after a few conversations, I began to catch feelings for him. He asked me out on a date, and I stupidly said yes.

Instead of coming out as honest and facing the consequences, I decided to keep digging this pit I had dug for myself. I possessed my own father to go on that date. Luckily, he's got plenty of condoms in his sock drawer.

'Date... Coach Smith... he's kinda cute.'

Oh damn, looks like my dad's not getting outta this one 100% straight anymore. Honestly, it probably is an improvement. He could stand to get back into the dating game.

But, not for tonight! Tonight was my night with his body. Coach Smith, here I come. I put on dad's sexiest suit and made my way to the date spot.

"Mmm, that's good. Keep that pose." Natasha said as she took another photo.

Snap!

"Great! Your pictures look wonderful, Landon," said Natasha, giving him a thumbs up. "I'll send them to you in a minute."

"Thanks, darlin'. Lemme just get yer payment. 's in the kitchen." Landon excused himself and made his way inside his home. As he passed the hallways mirror, he couldn't help but stop and admire his face. Although it was technically the first time he had ever shaved himself, he really did a good job.

"All right, Nat, here's yer pay. Thanks fer the pics. I'll make a killin' sellin' 'em online."

"Didn't see you as the OnlyFans guy, Landon. What changed?"

"What can I say? It's time the world saw a whole new me." Landon couldn't help but flex a little as he said that. He inwardly chuckled as he saw Natasha stare just a second too long.

"Ah, well," she said, quickly regaining her composure. "Either way, it's nice to get a commission. You don't mind if I post a pic or two on my site, right?"

Landon shook his head and shot her a suave grin. "No prob, darlin'. Don't mind the whole world seein' this new me." Natasha thanked him for the boost in her new photography career and left.

Finally alone, Landon made his way to his room and lied down on the floor, enjoying his stolen flesh.

"Lookin' cute, cowboy," Landon said to himself as he took a selfie of himself on the bed. Natasha's pictures were on the way, but he couldn't help but take a quick pic to admire.

"So glad I took your body, earthlin'." When the alien fell to earth one fateful, it quickly slithered into Landon's home in search of a worthwhile host. It found the cowboy resting, clad in just a pair of heart-print boxers, after a hard day's work.

Its slimy form slithered into his cock, causing Landon to wake and panic as a foreign being invaded him. The possession caused Landon to climax, and the little alien quickly fell in love with its new host. Now it planned to share its beautiful new home with all its new lovers, both its sexual partners and those who would admire from a screen.

"It's me, Landon," the alien spoke with its southern accent. "Lemme make all yer dreams come true."

Body Surfing Lesson

“’Body surfing,’ is an important skill to learn as fledgling body possessors,” Gerald spoke to the hidden camera, putting on his teacher persona as best he could considering the ciscumstances. “Normally, it takes a lot of mana for us to take over other people, but the body surfing technique involves taking over multiple people over the course of a single day, using their own mana as a sort of ‘surfboard,’ to ride the waves of mana that flow inside of us all.” He inwardly cringed as he spoke, his current body very clearly unfitting for his lesson.

Gerald had no idea who had come up with such awful terminology, but it was far too late to change that. The small yet tight-knit community the possessors in the area had formed needed to have a sense of unity. Too much innocent blood had been shed for shame to hold Gerald back. ‘Far too many of you have been lost for me to get cold feet now,’ he thought to himself. Taking a deep breath, he continued his explanation for the future viewers.

“I’ve already spent quite a lot of my own mana to possess this young man,” Gerald forced his host to say. What was his name again…? He focused, face visibly tightening before his eyes widened in realization. “Jerry! Huh, it’s so close to my name.” He winced and made a mental note to himself to delete that part of the video. “It was difficult, y’know,” he said, pacing around in Jerry’s underwear with very little shame. He couldn’t help but strut, already enjoying the tight muscle in this youthful form. “I had to float into his cute little butt to take him over.”

Gerald grinned and slapped Jerry’s butt, enjoying the slight jiggling. He thought back earlier today as he launched into a story of how he had taken Jerry over for his class.

Gerald’s misty form had crawled through the apartment building’s pipes, searching for a nice and hot host that would catch people’s eyes while he tried to educate them. Then, he found Jerry exiting the shower and clad in just a pair of new-age briefs. Gerald stared at it in confusion, unsure if this is really what the young ones were really wearing. ‘Am I getting old?’ Gerald had briefly mused before launching himself towards Jerry’s ass.

“AH! Woah, ahhh…!” Jerry collapsed on his stomach, ass facing the ceiling as Gerald’s essence took him over. “Ah, pl-please… help…!” gasped Jerry, his hips thrusting on their own as he lost consciousness.

“Mmm, nice…” Gerald muttered as he sat up. He rubbed his stomach and then his bare, youthful legs. “It’s been a while since I was someone so young. And so hairless,” he chuckled.

“And that’s what happened,” he finished for his class. “It was lucky that this young man enjoys filming so much. Now I’ve got a nice and high-quality camera for this lesson rather than some janky phone.” It truly had been serendipity for him. Gerald giggled as he sat cross-legged in front of the camera, enjoying just how his borrowed form felt so exposed and yet so confident in his near-nudity. “So, I’ve got a dilemma. I want to move on and yet I’m pretty much exhausted my mana supplies—the essence of the soul. Say I even got into the trouble and I have to evacuate for whatever reason. What could I do in this situation?”

Gerald waited a quick second before continuing, “If you don’t know, that’s fine. This technique’s quite advanced. Not even some of our more veteran community members have even mastered it. Yours truly, however,” Gerald paused to place a hand on his chest, making sure to lightly tweak a nipple, “is well-versed enough in the arts to enlighten you.”

It wasn’t a secret nor difficult to figure out the theoretical part, but it was a challenge to divert the flow of energy instead of letting it be lost to entropy. It was similar to having a rush of anger and trying to convert the energy of that anger to something productive. In other words, it was turning anger to passion, turning sadness to compassion, and turning joy to kindness. The emotion behind it was just as important, if not more so, than the actual intention. 

‘Easier said than done,’ Gerald thought. ‘Honestly, I’d have to do a one-on-one with all of these new possessors for them to even get proficient at it. However, just imparting the knowledge would be enough… for now, at least.’

“Now, I have invited my host’s friend to come over soon. Before he arrives, I’m going to start masturbating my host’s body and preparing my mana.” One of the ways that mana flowed was through bodily fluids, with semen being one of the most potent ones. The emotions surrounding a climax allows a large flow of magic to surge through and even be present in the semen that one shoots at that moment of peak pleasure. “I won’t use my own mana,” summarized Gerald, “but instead use this young man’s mana from his own climax to possess his friend, Mike.”

Gerald was about to continue, but bit his lower lip as he heard the faintest knock from the front door. Then, Mike’s voice called out to be let in.

Grinning, Gerald placed a finger to his lips and winked at the camera. “Let the show begin.” It wasn’t difficult to begin jacking off in this youth’s body. Even stroke felt like a lightning strike and even gasp was just fuel to Gerald’s fiery lust--now reborn in this young vessel… for the time.

“C-C’mon in,” Gerald forced Jerry to say. He had left the apartment’s front door unlocked on purpose. With any luck, Mike would get curious and explore the lustful noises straight to Jerry’s room. “Door’s unlocked.” Everything was falling into place. Gerald had seen a few pictures of Mike. He was a cute ginger with a good body that used to play hockey in high school. Though his sports days were behind him, Mike still regularly went to the gym to keep a nice form. “Mmm…!” The thought of taking over another young hunk, one with fiery curly hair that was so much like his own during his teenage years, almost made Gerald cum on the spot.

“Hurry up…!” Gerald hissed. Just how much more did his thick cock need to finally cum. It was such a tease--to be on the verge of cumming but not getting there quite yet. “You stupid fucking himbo, fucking cum already!” Although he was on the verge of running out of time, Gerald couldn’t help but find the verbal abuse arousing as well. “Cum for me, boy. Lemme feel that stallion cock of yours burst all over your hairless, himbo body…”

“Jerry? That you? What’re you doing…?” Gerald could hear Mike’s approaching footfalls, and that only made the whole situation more erotic. Before losing his body, Mike would see his best friend cum all over himself like a shameless exhibitionist. And then, Gerald would do the same thing to Mike. Forget the class or keeping the peace, Gerald could only think of hopping between men and turning each of them into cum-obsessed cocksuckers.

“Hrrngh! Oh god…!” 

Yes… it was approaching. All Gerald needed to really turn this body on as he cranked the cock was a bit of foreplay. His core was beginning to tense, and he could feel himself rush past the point of no return.

Right at the precise moment, the door opened. “Jerry, what the fuck?!” Mike cried out as he saw his best friend beating his meat without a lick of shame.

Grining, Gerald forced Jerry to shout, “I’m fucking cumming…!” as torrents of cum shot high into the air in Mike’s direction.

‘Now, give me your body, boy.’

Riding that climatic wave, Gerald used the large pool mana that Jerry’s young body was shooting to propel his soul forward. Even though all of his own energy was spent, he felt rejuvenated, as though he was 20 years younger, as Jerry came. However, just like a normal wave crashing into the sea, it would not last forever. The energy could not be stored, only spent in that very moment; but that small burst in power was all Gerald needed as he dove into Mike’s body.

“Oomph!” Mike huffed as the force of Gerald diving into his body was enough to knock him off balance. He fell backwards and hit the ground, body convulsing as an invisible, unknowable force began to take him over. “Wh-What the fuck…?!” was all he could say as a cold and numb sensation spread from the tips of his fingers and toes into his core. “H-Help… ohh… please don’t…” Mike reached a trembling arm towards the doorknob, his fingers twitching as they tried to find anything to grab onto.

By the time Mike’s fingers gripped the brass knob, Gerald was already in control. “Mmm… delicious.” Something that Gerald noticed from certain bodies was that they somehow had some kind of spiritual ‘flavor.’ Mike reminded him of strawberries in a shortcake somehow. He licked his lips and chuckled at the light bristle of Mike’s bushy and manly beard. “Trying to be a real man, boy?”

Gerald forced Mike to sit up and then lie on his stomach. “Just a young man trying to be a big boy,” he chuckled as he positioned Mike’s ass high in the air, wiggling his hips the whole time. “But then a real man like Gerald took over my body. All with my best friend’s spunk as a springboard. God, what kinda friend--what kinda man--am I for letting that happen?”

A horrible idea suddenly crossed Gerald’s mind. Crawling back into Jerry’s room, Gerald opened Mike’s mouth and began to suck the remaining cum off of Jerry’s still twitching cock. “God, Mike, you’re so virile. I’m so glad you’re this cumslut’s friend,” said Gerald. Then he realized that he was still supposed to be explaining a lesson. 

Grabbing the camera, Gerald focused it on Mike’s face and began to speak. “Well, did you see that? I was all out of mana, but masturbating with a man’s other body, I was able to use his energy to possess this hunk of meat.” To illustrate his point, Gerald stripped most of Mike’s clothes until he was down to his boxer briefs. “See? And--” he stopped as he heard the front door open.

“Jerry? You home? What’d I tell you about leaving the front door unlocked?”

Jerry’s father. A tall and broad-shouldered man that, from what Gerald could tell from Jerry’s memory, wasn’t particularly fond of Mike due to his… ‘lifestyle.’ Was it due to something repressed? Mike certainly seemed to think so, but Gerald couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation. Taking a look around and seeing the scene before him, Gerald began to internally panic--twisting Mike’s generally nonchalant expression into a stressed grimace.

‘Shit. His son’s unconscious, covered in cum,  and his best friend’s stripped down to his underwear.  If I saw this scene I’d think Mike was trying to date-rape my son! Don’t think I’ll be able to simply laugh off this little excursion. But… the only way to get out of this would be…’

Gerald had never attempted a double possession, with or without an explosive orgasm catapult. Was it a good thing that the camera was still recording? He wasn’t sure anymore. To be frank, he wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Loud, boisterous footfalls continued to ring in his ears.

Even in times of danger, Gerald knew he could rely on his libido to get him out. Throwing Mike’s underwear away, no longer caring about maintaining any sense of professionalism, Gerald got to work. Using what was left of Jerry’s cum as makeshift lube, he began to explore Mike’s tasty body with horned-up haste.

“The hell’s that, Jerry? Got a girl over?” Jerry’s father called out again. Gerald couldn’t help but giggle in-betweens his moans. If only he knew.

Mike’s gruff voice contrasted so wonderfully with his high-pitched and needy groans. His back arched and his toes curled as Gerald continued to beat his dick. The other hand freely explored the nice pelt of orange hair that coated Mike’s body.

‘What I wouldn’t give to just have a day with this guy,’ thought Gerald. A few tweeks of the nipples and he could already feel an orgasm building up. Just a few more minute and vigorous strokes and he’d be home free. “C’mon, cum for me…! Just a bit more.”

Jerry’s door flew open for the second time that day, and this time Jerry’s father roared in horror at the scene before him. “MIKE! What the fuck are you doing?! Jerry?!”

‘An audience,’ Gerald thought, smirking at the older man. ‘And not a bad looker either.’

“Hey, daddy-o,” Gerald forced Mike to say. He thrust into his grip, gyrating his hips as though to show off what his body could do to Jerry’s father. “Like the show? Have a seat, I can do so much for you if you want. I don’t mind some audience participation.” To emphasize his own point, Gerald raised a hand with a bit of pre-cum and slowly licked it off--savoring the sweet flavor.

Jerry’s father, mouth slightly agape and expression somewhere between horror and arousal, just stared at Gerald abusing Mike’s body. “Y-You’re sick,” he finally said, eyes glued to Mike’s swinging cock as it twitched. “What did you do to Jerry…?”

“Same thing I’m gonna do to you, daddy!” Gerald cried out in glee as Mike’s abused cock shot the first few rounds of semen. He bit his bottom lip, moans just barely muffled, as Mike’s hips naturally thrust with each shot. As the orgasm reached its end, Mike’s body began to tremble and grow limp as Gerald shot himself out. He rushed through the air and quickly dove right into Jerry’s father through his large chest.

“Hurugh! Ohh, what the fuck…?!” Unlike Mike, Jerry’s father remained standing even after Gerald dive bombed into his chest. However, despite his stronger will, he was unable to stop the tidal wave that crashed over his body. His broad arms gripped the door frame for support as his knees bent from the pressure. 

The invasive presence washed over him, filling him up slowly. It wasn’t unlike the first time his ex-wife had pegged him. The fear that came from being filled for the first time was matched only by the pleasure that followed. Just the thought of that night made his cargo shorts tighten. He knew that he should’ve been afraid and even outraged, but his body betrayed him in favor of the invasive presence. “M-More, please fuck me more…!” he whispered as his grip on the door frame tightened. Sweat dripped from his body as his soul let the tides carry him to a blissful and erotic rest.

“And that class,” Gerald forced his host to say, “is how you use your host to your advantage. Now, this is a more advanced technique, so don’t worry if you find it tricky at first.” Bill, Jerry’s father, was far more comfortable to Gerald than Jerry or Mike. The beefy look and authoritative voice also helped Gerald really get into the persona of a professor. It was like putting on a custom before getting into character. “But, as you can see from my improvised lesson plan, it’s possible to even chain multiple possessions in just one day! Really beats having to wait for the refractory period to end, huh?” He chuckled in Bill’s deep baritone, hands on his stomach as he felt Bill’s stolen body jiggle and quake with life. This was more like it.

And with the lesson done, Gerald now had plenty of time on his own to get familiar with Bill. Maybe Jerry and Mike would like to get involved as well…

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.

Not Another Goddamn Interview

The job market was tough, and Holden had been unemployed for far too long. Months of interviews, companies ghosting him, and rejections drove him to a boiling point, and someone had to take the brunt of Holden’s anger.

The interview started off well, but when Holden’s lack of experience and months of inactivity after graduation came into light, an awkward silence permeated the office. Holden stuttered a few half-answers of clubs he attended during college, but Mr. Wells, the interviewer, looked unimpressed—as so many others did before him.

“Well, Mr. Wilde,” Mr. Wells began with little enthusiasm. Holden’s heart began to race as familiar words returned to haunt him once more. “We’ll be in touch. I wish you luck in your future interviews, as well.” Mr. Wells stood up and offered Holden his hand.

Barely managing a smile, Holden stood up and gingerly reached out to shake Mr. Wells’ hand as a thousand thoughts raced through his mind. ‘I’m never going to get anywhere… Another goddamn rejection… How am I gonna pay rent next month…? Savings are getting low… That gap in that resume is gonna get even loooonger…’

As Holden shook Mr. Wells’ older and calloused hand, he launched himself towards Mr. Wells. “What the—!” Was all Mr. Wells could say as Holden’s body shifted and morphed. A stream of blue gel-like substance forced itself into Mr. Wells’ mouth, muffling any screams for help. More and more of the slime pumped itself down Mr. Wells’ throat as he fell back into his chair. His legs spread out, kicking the floor and convulsing as another creature filled up his body.

Soon, as the last of the slime finished entering his body with a sickening slosh, Mr. Wells let out a low groan. He blinked, eyes flashing a light blue before returning back to normal. Holden looked down at the body he was inhabiting. “I’m not sitting through another goddamn interview,” Holden muttered to himself with his borrowed voice. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Promising young man,” Holden chuckled to himself as he wrote a report the interview. Possessing Mr. Wells’ body wouldn’t guarantee landing a job in this company, but at this point Holden figured he might as well give it a shot. “Lots of energy and enthusiasm. Really blew me away!”

While writing, Holden looked down at the particularly heavy chest he now wore. Curling the toes in his dress shoes and flexing the cock hidden by the slacks, he couldn’t help but grow aroused at the body he now wore. “Kept things casual while maintaining an air of,” he paused to groan as he gripped Mr. Wells’ crotch through the slacks, “an air of professionalism.” He capped off the report with that and reached down to his waistband.

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.’

With the limited control over himself that Alejandro had, he made sure to pout in this selfie that his bodysnatcher tried to take.

"You think anyone is gonna be able to jerk off to this?!" the creature in control of Alejandro said. Still dripping in sweat from the takeover, Alejandro's body was forced to wander to the bathroom.

The creature snarled at Alejandro's reflection, as though talking to the mind of his captive host. "I just need to earn some money. You don't want me to drain your bank account, do you? No, you don't don't." The creature forced Alejandro's body to smile at his own reflection. Still a prisoner in his own mind, Alejandro tried to relax and allowed the bodysnatcher to do whatever they wanted.

"See, I can be nice when I want to be. You agree, right?" The bodysnatcher didn't wait for a response. "So, cooperate and I'll move on to some other poor sucker once I get enough cash to be comfortable. Don't worry, a slutty host like you is only fun for a few nights. I'd rather grab someone with real influence."

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.

A Beta makes, an Alpha takes

TW: homophobic slurs

Eduardo Garcia was a content creator who, like many others in his field, lived in the SolCal area. He was a self-described ladies man and an amateur pick-up artist. Most of his videos and livestreams focused on giving life advice for men. That night was the same as it always was, with Ed saying his catchphrase, “A beta makes, an alpha takes,” to his impressionable audience.

Once the stream ended and he counted his donations, Ed made his way to the bar. It didn’t take long for him to find another girl to screw. His type was always the same: eager young women new to town and looking for something deep and steady.

After a long and sensual session, the girl whose name he forgot asked if what Ed wanted for breakfast that morning. She had wanted to cuddle, but Ed’s protests kept her at bay. Ed pretended to think for a while before saying, “I’ll treat ya. It’ll be a surprise,” before kissing her.

Around five the following morning, Ed snuck out of her apartment having lost zero winks of sleep that night. ‘Not my fault there’s so many suckers in this town,’ he thought to himself, grinning the whole way back to his apartment. ‘They wouldn’t fall for fellas like me if they had a lick of common sense. I just do what I do. If they don’t wise up then it’s on them.’

That morning should’ve been like all the other ones for Ed. He was in a fantastic mood to grab a quick bite and then spend some time in the gym after scoring as hard as he did the night before. However, just as he reached the floor his apartment was on, he caught sight of his neighbor standing unusually still.

Carlos was exactly everything that Ed hated about the SolCal area. They were in the same field as influencers, but Carlos focused more on “Affirmations of the self,” and “Queer rights,” and other stuff Ed had long-since forgotten about. Carlos had gone to great detail to explain, but Ed had mostly tuned out whatever didn’t relate to Carlos’ follower count or the cash he was making. Knowing the two would never get along, Ed preferred to avoid Carlos altogether, even if he did secretly wish the two would collab so that Ed’s follower count would grow.

Yet, on that morning, Ed couldn’t take his eyes off of Carlos. He stood in front of his apartment door, staring blankly ahead. A few moments passed, but the man didn’t even blink. Ed knew he should just leave him along and mind his own business, but a nosy part of him urged him forward.

“Hey man,” Ed called out, “You okay? You’ve been standing there for like an hour or something.”

Carlos’ head immediately snapped towards the direction of Ed’s voice, causing the latter to nearly jump out of his skin. “I was unable to court another female,” said Carlos in a stilted, unnatural tone. “I was reviewing what I did wrong. Forgive the intrusion.”

‘Court another female. So the fag’s trying to get with chicks, now?’ thought Ed before being struck by a genius business idea. “Good on ya, man!” Any prior concerns about Carlos’ odd behavior were discarded to the wind as Ed wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. “Good to see ya swinging for the right team. ‘bout time you dropped all that fag shit,” he said, pointing a thumb to the pride flag hanging on Carlos’ door.

“Fag shit…?” echoed Carlos, but he didn’t offer any resistance as he was guided to Ed’s apartment.

“You came to the right place, my friend. Nobody knows how to pick up the ladies quite like this lady-killer.”

“You kill them?”

“Ha-ha! Aw, ya crack me up, big guy. C’mon, I’ll give ya a few pointers.” For Ed, giving Carlos several of his lessons and even showing him the streaming setup was an investment. He was gaining much money from doing this, but all he needed was to win Carlos’ trust over and he’d be swimming in new subs and a brand new market to sell. There just had to be guys who played for both teams on Carlos’ faggy audience, he assured himself.

After about half an hour of coaching, Carlos repeated Ed’s lessons like a college student cramming for a final. “A beta makes, an alpha takes.” For whatever reason Carlos seemed particularly fond of that phrase.

“We’re the men. The providers! That’s why we gotta remind this pussified society who’s really in charge. The alphas,” said Ed, flexing his bicep to punctuate his point. His body was one of the few things he had worked honestly for. Steroids and diets were a frequent topics in his online rants. To Ed, if one couldn’t get a body like his naturally, then they couldn’t call themselves a real man.

“And this has worked to acquire mates?”

“Mates? Bro, I’m swimming in pussy. And soon you will too,” said Ed. He lightly tapped Carlos’ chest. “With a bod like this? It’ll be even easier. Stick with me and I’ll get you laid. Just, uh, don’t forget ‘bout that collab I mentioned.”

Carlos, after what seemed like an eternity of stone-cold stoicism, finally cracked a smile. “Yes, I would love to collaborate with you.”

“Awesome! Lemme get something to celebrate.” It was still early in the morning, but it was always five o’clock somewhere, right? Ed made hi way over to his fridge and pulled some of the quality beer. The cheap stuff was reserved for those rare moments he had a girl over. “We gotta celebrate this new friendship of ours, my man. I got--!”

Carlos tackled Ed as he walked back to the living room. The two crashed onto one of his couches in a mess of struggling limbs. “Yo, what the fuck, man?!” cried Ed. He tried to push Carlos off, but froze as he saw Carlos’ body convulsing and his eyes rolling up, showing the whites. Seizure? Stroke?

Before Ed could reach for his phone in his pocket, Carlos leaned forward and locked lips with him. As soon as the two made contact, a slimy creature flowed from Carlos’ mouth into Ed. Once the substance made contact with Ed, his body began unresponsive. He tried to struggle and push Carlos off of him, but his arms remained heavy and limp. More and more of the slime pumped into Ed until Carlos’ body, unconscious yet still convulsing rolled off of the couch.

Ed couldn’t move but he could still feel a chilling sensation spread throughout his body, filling him up. The slime crawled down his throat and began to expand inside of him. Most of it traveled down his esophagus and began to assimilate his core, arms, legs, and toes. Each limb seized and shook as it became corrupted by the invader.

Ed tried to scream as it fell the creature fill his head and coating his brain, yet he could do nothing but endure the sickening yet pleasurable feeling. It was filling him up, and for whatever reason, Ed couldn’t help but enjoy the way the creature dominated him. His body, still unresponsive to his pleas for help, merely humped the air and sensually moan as it was taken over.

Eventually, Ed blacked out. The last thing he perceived was his hands touching his face and his own laughter.

~~~

‘Please, give me my body back,’ whined Ed.

“Give it a rest, Ed,” the creature possessing Ed said, grinning to himself. “Thank you for providing this impressive specimen, by the way. I quite enjoyed the takeover.” He tilted his head as he read the magazine. “Hmm, you are well-endowed, indeed. Perfect for my mission.”

A few days had passed since the creature slithered into Ed’s body. Ed had woken up to see his body piloted by some kind of foreign invader. Despite Ed’s pleads, it refused to give up control, saying, “I’ve been needing a strong and virile specimen to breed and spread.”

‘You can’t fucking do this to me! It’s not right,’ Ed begged from the recesses of his own mind. ‘I’m a human being. I don’t deserve this!’

“Your mind is intact, is that not enough for you?” the creature said as he jerked Ed’s cock in the couch. “You could have ended up like my previous experiment. Right, Carlos?”

“Right you are, my alpha,” said the thing inside of Carlos. Ed tried to look away from Carlos’ naked and puppeted body, but the creature didn’t have the decency to give him that.

Carlos was not the creature’s first victim, but it was the first that didn’t suffer massive brain damage from the creature’s invasive efforts. However, the creature still hadn’t quite managed to access Carlos’ memories and personality. It had managed to figure out the basics and just needed one more attempt to do a proper possession. Ed was the creature’s first success, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“What else do you wish, my master?” said Carlos as he eagerly marched over to Ed, swaying his hips and sticking his ass out as he spoke. “Do you want to breed me once more? Fill me up with more of your spawn so I may go and spread?”

While Carlos hadn’t suffered brain damage, but the trauma of the invasion caused him to become catatonic. To remedy this, Carlos was the first one to received the creature’s spawn. The creature, riding high thanks to Ed’s disgust at the homosexual act, fucked Carlos’ body and let one of its children pilot the still-living husk.

“Please, act a bit more like your host would. Keep reviewing the videos.” Ed mentally screamed to himself as his invader forced him to say that. Even if the creatures had little idea as to how to blend in society, the sheer amount of content that Carlos and he made would guarantee that they had plenty of references for impersonating them. “Later, I’ll pump you full. I just… need to explore this body of mine a bit more.”

Carlos cleared his throat before giving a sweet, nonchalant smile. “No prob, my man. Later we should go out, though. Get familiar with the area.” He winked and said, “Later,” just as Carlos always did.

‘Please, let me go,’ Ed tried once more. The idea of the creature doing this to his friends and family, acting like him the whole time, was a hell he couldn’t bear. ‘I-I’ll even hook you up with another better. Better bodies, just please let me go…’ Ed internally sobbed.

“You’re quite pathetic,” the creature sneered as it violated Ed’s body once more. “Where’s your bravado, Eddie~? You were swimming in pussy just a few days ago. Now you’re pounding men and craving cock.” Ed’s body let out a malicious laugh as ropes of cum erupted from his stolen dick. “It’s like you always said. A beta makes, an alpha takes.”

"You're Not my Son!"

"Wh-Who are you really?" Hank pointed at his son, who was now wandering outside the house in just a skimpy pair of briefs with little shame to the world.

Michael looked over his shoulder. Sighing, he insisted, "I'm your one and only son, dad. C'mon, no need to be weird."

"My son would never do any of the things you're doing!" shouted Hank, his face turning red. He was angry, but the fear in his eyes betrayed any sense of authority he might've had. "Bringing home all those men, ignoring his passions, breaking up with his girlfriend like that! He told me he was planning to propose." Hank was the verge of tears as he spoke.

Michael raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. In fact, he almost seemed to smirk at Hank's desperation. Now burning with a protective anger, Hank said, "Now you tell me what happened to my son or I'm calling the police."

Eyes rolling, Michael sighed and held his arms up. "Fine, fine. I'll tell you what happened, old man." He smirked when he saw Hank grow stiff, fists clenched. "Watch this." In lightning-fast motion, a stream of energy burst out of Michael's mouth, flowing in the air as its host body collapsed.

Hank stumbled back in fear. All he could do was cover his face with his arm as the energy creature rushed towards him, entering him through his eyes. His glasses fell to the floor as Hank stood erect, howling and gasping as he lost control over his body.

~0~

"Stupid human," 'Hank' said to himself as he put on his glasses. "His eyes don't even work properly."

'What a shame. I liked that body.' The Explorer, as he has taken to calling himself, regularly hopped between body to body, drinking in all that life has to offer to humanity. Michael had been a good catch to have fun with, but his father had caught on.

The Explorer, now Hank, glanced over at his son. He was sleeping soundly on the sofa inside the house. Michael would remember the past few days but have no idea it was another entity forcing him to make those decisions.

"Guess I'll have to make you my little plaything," the new Hank said to his reflection as he explored his new body in the bathroom. It would take a few days to build up enough power to leap into a new body. But at least this one still had potential.

"Least you got a bit of a 'daddy' vibe." Hank bit his lip as he felt up the aged yet still fit flesh. "Oh yeah, I think the college students will like this one very much," he said as he rubbed Hank's large cock through his briefs.