This Is Not Good. My Uncle Got Out Of Prison A Few Months Ago, And He Tricked Me Into Taking My Body.

Killer on the loose

Jack was happy to finally spend some time alone in the woods. He felt so overstimulated after years of living in the city. He had to move from the countryside and change jobs, but he still missed his old life closer to the nature.

As soon as he left the city, he turned off his phone. Something he wouldn’t be able to do because of his work. But now, he had a weekend all for himself. No humans nearby.

He arrived to his favourite location near his old home, which has now been demolished and sold to some of the businessmen and turned into a lumberyard. But the woods were still calm. He set up a camp, started a fire to get his diner ready and spontaneously decided to quickly calm himself in the pond with a waterfall. The water splashing on the rocks was relaxing. Jack swam for quite a while, before getting out of the water. He wiped away the water from his eyes and froze on the spot.

There was a strange looking man standing on the shore.

Stranger:“Wow, looking good. I guess you could do.“

Jack:“Sir, I’m going to ask you to leave.“

Stranger:“This is a free country. You can’t tell me to leave.“

Jack:“I’m just being respectful. I came here alone and set up this place to have a quiet weekend for myself. Please leave.“

Stranger:“Alone? You shouldn’t wander these woods alone. There are animals and serial killers running around. I’ll keep you safe!“ he snapped and broke something between his hands. There was a smoke around him, that made is way towards Jack.

Before Jack could react, it entered him through his nose. Jack tried to cough it out, but only clean air was coming out. He felt weak, as if he was falling asleep.

And suddenly his vison turned black

Axel opened his eyes. „It worked. That bitch was right.“ He looked down at his new muscular wet torso. „Well what do we have here. I think I’m going to be having some benefits for my plans with a body like this.“ He felt his belly and abs tightened under the cold skin. He flexed his biceps and sniffed his armpits. Axel pulled away the waistband if his shorts. „Oh, boy. I hope it’s the cold water boy. Cause Axel is used to much bigger tool than this. Right, you can’t answer back to me, you’re dormant now. I hope you’re gonna enjoy the ride, boy.“

He got out of the water and stripped himself naked and got close to the fire to dry himself. He poked around his new dick. „Let’s see if I underestimated you.“ He spat on his new dick and played around with the head of his dick. He was jerking furiously now as the flames were burning bright next to him. He was hard now, but still not really satisfied with the length. „At least they’ll be able to give you a motive. Hahaha.“ He got even harder as he heard himself laugh. He moaned as the water from his body evaporated but was now replaced by sweat. It  poured from his head, back and made its way between his cheeks. He was getting close. „Fuck yeah! I’m a studddd!“ he screamed and shot the load into the fire.

He collapsed on the ground and laughed. „I must say, you’re not the biggest down there, but the orgasm is worth it.“ He rested for a while, but noticed the sun was setting.

He looked around and found clothes in the tent. He got dressed, but there was still something missing. He noticed the axe, that Jack brought for the fire. „Perfect. Now we’re all set.“

Axel was now ready to continue in his killing streak. The prison thought that they would keep him there forever, but Axel has important task to finish. And now, he has the body for it too. Maybe after he finishes, He could possess someone else and let Jack get the blame. But maybe after fucking some more whores and killing them after.

Story request from inbox by @malevessel

Could you do a story where this guy goes camping in the woods and gets possessed by an escaped serial killer?

Can you make a story where Venom needs a new host and chooses Captain America?

They had taken him away. They were calmly eating a bad guy and those guys took Eddie away. Venom didn't know how but they had managed to separate him from Eddie and took him away.

It took a while for Venom to calm down. He was alone, it was cold and he was tired. Over the years he had increased his stamina and he could go long periods of time without a host, but in this state he needed a host.

Venom knew he needed someone strong, who would allow him to search and rescue Eddie. Then he heard a noise coming from the street, and when he looked out he saw it. There were several police cars and many lights, and in the center of everything was Captain America.

Venom had met him before, given him quite a few hits for a human. Both Eddie and Venom had liked him, he was an upright, good and inspiring person, and having a super soldier as a host, Venom was sure that he could get Eddie back.

Venom clung to the captain's suit before he retreated, and hid behind his back, right between the captain and the shield. Steve headed to his house and surprised Venom. The house was very sober and small, he would not have expected it from an avenger.

Steve took off his suit, threw it in a corner and threw himself into bed, falling asleep a few seconds later due to exhaustion. It was Venom's opportunity, which shot one of his tendrils directly at the captain's ear, and from there to his brain. Rogers didn't have time to do anything before Venom "disconnected" his musculoskeletal system, preventing him from moving.

Rogers was nervous, and Venom could taste the panic in his brain, however he quickly secreted hormones that calmed him and induced a kind of sleep. Rogers was a person of strong conviction. Venom liked him. However, in this situation he needed something else. He needed a bold, aggressive Steve Rogers. A Steve Rogers who didn't mind killing if necessary, nor did he mind eating a couple of bad guys. He needed a captain with lax morals, but above all he needed a Steve who would obey Venom. It was crucial. Venom promised to undo all these changes while he brainwashed him. When Venom was gone, Steve would be his usual self again.

Venom wrapped Steve in his symbiotic mass and dissolved his clothes. He couldn't help but caress the powerful member between Steve's legs. Maybe he can then "calm" the new host of him. Venom formed layers of clothing until Steve stood in the center of the room with a new look.

An amused but also cruel smile crossed Steve's face. Any tiredness he had felt before was gone, he grabbed his wallet and his keys and left his house wanting to eat up the night. They needed to look for Eddie Brock, Steve didn't know why he didn't fight Venom, but he felt good. When he went down the stairs he met his downstairs neighbor, who was coming home from work.

Good evening Steve, new look? Nice jacket

Thanks, it's new.

Steve continued ahead but not before touching his neighbor's ass. Steve got on his motorcycle and started the trip.

Does anyone know where this is from?

(Un)touchable Fiancé

Read Part 1

Thank you for reaching the first 500. I hope you like the sequel you've been asking for.

"You're really okay with this?" Austin asked, his tone low. "With me being him?"

Eli nodded, slowly. His voice came quiet, tight. "I want you even more because of it."

Austin didn't react right away. He simply stood there, framed by the mirror. His body—broad, sculpted, veined—was frozen in a moment of self-worship. The gold chain resting against his collarbone caught the light, swinging gently with each breath.

Behind him, Eli sat on the bench—shirtless, flushed, and silent. His eyes didn't move. He watched like the moment might vanish if he blinked.

Austin flexed—just one arm, slow and deliberate. The muscle swelled beneath his skin, perfect and unhurried.

"You still breathing back there?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the mirror.

Eli swallowed. "Barely."

A smirk crept across Austin's face. Not playful—measured.

"Good," he said. "That's how it should be."

He ran a hand slowly over his chest, down across his abs, watching his own fingers trace the hard lines. "You know what's wild? I look like this, and somehow it's your sister who got the ring. Not you. But you're the one in here, watching me like I'm a god."

Eli didn't respond.

"God damn," he muttered, almost to himself. "I really do look better every day."

Austin stepped toward him.

"Look at me."

Eli obeyed.

Austin leaned in, close but not touching. "You'll come crawling back again. Because you don't want kindness. You want this. My voice in your ear. My hand on your throat. This body. This ego."

He licked Eli's forehead—not tenderly, but like sealing ownership.

Eli's voice came, small but thick with tension. "I saw you last night. Through the door. With her."

Austin grinned, teeth flashing in the mirror. He didn't look at Eli—he didn't have to. "Yeah? You watched the whole thing like a little perv? That door wasn't closed by accident."

Eli flinched, cheeks burning.

Austin finally turned, walking slowly toward him, towel loose around his waist, droplets sliding down the deep grooves of his abs. "Let me guess—you were stroking it while I railed some random girl from the club? You couldn't help yourself."

Eli tried to respond, but the words caught in his throat.

"She was so easy," Austin said, standing over him now. "Didn't even ask my name. Just spread for the body. And you? You're sitting here begging for scraps. Watching me like I'm some kind of prize. Pathetic."

Austin grabbed Eli by the arm and turned him around with casual force.

"Come on. Bend over."

Eli didn't resist.

Austin smirked.

Eli leaned forward, bracing himself against the cold bathroom counter, breath shallow, heart pounding. Austin stood tall, his presence imposing. "I'm still not gay," he muttered. "But you were made to worship me."

Austin's hands gripped Eli's waist with quiet control—assertive, firm. His confidence wasn't loud; it didn't need to be. Then Austin began to move his hips forward, again and again. His hand reached around Eli's neck and pulled him back.

His gaze didn't shift to Eli. It stayed fixed on the mirror—on himself. On the way his shoulders squared perfectly, the way control fit him like a second skin. His reflection was the only approval he needed.

Eli trembled—not in fear, but in awe. Pulled into the gravity of the man behind him.

"You look better like this," Austin said in a voice low enough to make Eli's spine tense. "Bent. Obedient."

Austin growled against his lips. "Don't moan too loud. The same girl is still asleep in the other room."

————

Austin's days had rhythm—an unapologetic, alpha routine that never missed a beat. If Owen had once hesitated to slip into the full rhythm of Austin's life, that hesitation was gone. Now, he didn't just wear the body. He lived it. Owned it.

Every morning started with sweat. A run at sunrise, letting the sun catch every hard line of his body as he pushed himself down the neighborhood sidewalks.

Once Austin entered the open garage door, chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths, his brown tank clinging to every ridge of his body. Sweat darkened the fabric in streaks down his chest, spine, and armpits—fresh proof of his morning run.

Eli stood silently at the edge of the room, eyes locked on him.

Austin didn't look at him at first. He peeled off his running watch, unbothered, then finally turned his gaze to Eli—sharp, annoyed, knowing.

"You got a job to do, Eli. Don't just stand there drooling." he commanded, voice cold and clipped.

Eli flinched at the command—but his breath caught in his throat at the same time. He nodded quickly and moved forward, eyes fixed on the soaked outline of Austin's torso.

"God, my scent," Austin muttered, pulling the hem up slowly. Eli's breath hitched again as each inch of sweat-slicked muscle revealed itself. The tank peeled off with resistance, clinging to Austin's back and armpits before he yanked it over his head.

He let it fall to the floor with a wet slap.

"Pick it up."

Eli obeyed immediately, fingers trembling as he lifted the still-warm shirt to his face. He pressed it against his nose, inhaling deeply, eyes fluttering shut. The salty, masculine scent hit him like a drug.

Austin watched him with open disdain. "God. You really are into this. You're not even trying to hide it anymore."

Eli couldn't speak—he was too overwhelmed. He just nodded again, clutching the soaked shirt like something sacred.

Austin raised one arm, slow and deliberate, revealing the soaked tuft beneath. The scent was stronger here.

"Go on," Austin said. "Since you want it so bad. Prove it."

Eli leaned forward, face trembling as he pressed into Austin's armpit, inhaling like it gave him life.

Austin sneered, barely hiding his smirk. "You're disgusting. And you love it."

Eli nodded again, eyes wide with reverence.

"Don't stop. Not until I say."

And so he did—worshipping the body, the scent...

————

Austin also worked as a fitness coach by late morning. Sessions took place in a sleek, private gym downtown—clients hung on his every word. Women flirted. Men tried to impress him. Austin teased, flirted back when it suited him, leaning fully into the role. He'd touch a client's waist to correct her form, let his voice drop when giving praise. And when he caught her checking out his arms or the sweat pooling at his chest, he never hid the smirk.

Afternoons were filled with errands, emails, and business calls—running the small online fitness brand Austin had built before Owen took over. Content planning, sponsorships, Instagram reels showing off his pump progress and morning ab checks. His DMs were a warzone of thirsty messages. He chose who to respond to with precision.

And then came evenings.

Austin often went out—but Eli didn't know where or with whom. What he did know was that in the mornings, random women sometimes emerged from the bedroom. Eli had long since accepted that Austin cheated on Iris regularly. Owen didn't hold back, using the body to its full, raw potential—sleeping with whomever he pleased.

Other nights, Austin played the part of the fiancé. Iris adored him. He remembered how she liked her wine, her favorite shows, when to compliment her dress. He kissed her on cue. Held her waist when her parents visited. Took couple selfies, posted with cocky captions. He even showed up for brunch with her friends—pretending he wasn't hungover from the night before.

Every version of Austin was a role Owen performed to perfection. The gym god. The charming coach. The flirty bad boy. The ideal boyfriend. The golden son-in-law.

And beneath it all, Owen smirked in the mirror.

Eli had become a regular fixture in Austin's house—not as a guest, but as something else entirely. He played the role Owen carved out for him: submissive, silent, always eager. He stayed in the guest room most nights, waiting for a single message from Austin to know when to be present, when to disappear, when to listen.

Austin never hid his disdain—his words were sharp, cold, often laced with casual homophobia. "You're lucky I let you breathe my air, creep." And Owen made sure those words came from Austin's lips with such authenticity it made Eli shiver.

And Eli loved it.

He loved serving under the illusion—the golden boy alpha who barely tolerated his existence. He loved the tension. The cruelty. The way Owen's intelligence laced every insult, making them cut deeper.

Sometimes, Austin would text him just one word: "Stay."

That meant Eli was to remain silent in the guest room while Austin brought home a girl from the bar. The moans would echo through the walls. The creak of the bed. The low grunts. The gasped praise—Eli heard it all.

And it tore him apart.

Not because of Iris. Not because of the girl.

Because it wasn't him.

He'd sit on the floor in the dark, fists clenched, head against the wall, drowning in envy. Wishing Austin would walk in and humiliate him all over again. Wishing he could be the one under Austin's grip. Pinned down. Owned.

Eli wasn't just obsessed.

He was addicted.

To the scent. The sound. The body.

To Austin.

To Owen.

Because now, the man everyone loved? That was him.

He didn't just become Austin.

He became something more.

————

There were days Austin played the role so well, Eli almost believed the lie himself. Whenever he showed up with Iris at the family house—clean-cut, confident, polite—he slipped into the real Austin's mask without effort.

He'd greet Eli's parents with a strong handshake, compliment the food, talk about crypto investments and gym progress. With Iris clinging to his side, Austin would chuckle at jokes, nod along to weekend plans, and throw a protective arm around her shoulders.

And to Eli? Nothing.

Sometimes a nod. Sometimes a curt "Hey."

The golden boy act was flawless.

Eli sat across the table, barely spoken to, barely acknowledged. Austin would look right through him during dinner. Smile at Iris. Toast with her dad. Pretend Eli wasn't even there.

Once, during a cookout, Iris was chatting with her mother in the kitchen, and Austin leaned against the doorframe, sipping from a beer bottle. Eli passed by, their eyes met.

"Don't get too worked up tonight," Austin said under his breath, his voice sharp and smug. "She's wearing lace for me."

He took another slow sip and walked away like nothing happened.

Another time, after a family board game night, Austin stood next to Eli in the hallway as everyone packed up. His voice was low, expression cool.

"You looked like you were going to cry when I kissed her goodnight. What's wrong? Jealous?"

And once, when they were all watching a movie together, Iris curled up under Austin's arm, Austin looked across the room to Eli, his expression unreadable.

Then he mouthed the words: "She moans louder than you."

Eli's stomach twisted with heat, shame, and longing. And when Austin returned to stroking Iris's hair like a perfect boyfriend, Eli could only sit in silence—haunted, aching, addicted.

Because no matter how well Austin performed the golden boy, those sharp moments of cruelty proved one thing: Owen knew exactly what Eli needed to hear to burn.

————

There were moments Eli couldn't tell where Austin ended and Owen began. He knew the real Austin had been cold, distant—never openly cruel, never dramatic. If he disliked someone, he did it through silence, through subtle power plays. The perfect image of masculine composure. He never needed to raise his voice to dominate.

But Owen… Owen gave Eli something different.

Something darker.

Living in Austin's body gave Owen permission to push the fantasy further, to explore what Eli secretly wanted: a golden boy with a monster lurking beneath. And so, when the two were alone, Austin transformed into something wild—unhinged, unapologetic.

He strutted shirtless through the house, sweat glistening from an afternoon run, cracking open a cold drink and letting it pour down his throat—down his chest, soaking into his shorts like he couldn't care less. He was a god with no grace. Loud. Cocky. Animalistic.

Eli watched, frozen with lust.

"Look at you," Austin barked. "Sitting there like a pathetic little fanboy. Waiting to lick up my sweat?"

Eli said nothing.

Austin leaned in, grabbing Eli's chin with just enough pressure. "You didn't know the real Austin. Just the curated one. But this is what you wanted." His eyes burned.

Eli nodded, breathless.

He flexed—slow, deliberate—then stepped closer, voice low. "The real Austin would've ignored you. Me? I watch you break."

And just like that, the cruelty turned primal. He grabbed the back of Eli's head and shoved him down, sweat dripping from his chest.

"You want the real thing?"

Eli didn't answer.

Austin smirked. "Then prove it."

And Eli did—because every sharp word, every grunt, every second of dominance… was devotion.

————

There were moments when Owen's exaggerated roleplay took over—loud, taunting, openly cruel. But there were others Eli craved more. The ones where he caught a glimpse of who the real Austin had likely been beneath the curated image. And it wasn't in private, but when Austin was surrounded by his best mates.

That was when Austin let the mask drop just enough.

He wasn't loud like them. He didn't boast. But he was the quiet leader—leaning back with his arms crossed, expression unreadable, letting the others bark and laugh around him. He chose when to speak. And when he did, they listened. That's when Eli saw it. The natural dominance. The way Austin didn't need to mock or posture.

But Nick? Nick was different.

Eli first met Nick at a boxing event. Austin had paid for Eli's ticket but told him to sit a row behind. "Don't make it weird," he'd texted.

Eli obeyed. And from there, he watched.

Nick was the kind of guy who didn't know how to tone it down. Built like a tank, forearms veined and bulging, his black shirt stretched tight across a chest that looked carved out of gym steel. His voice boomed over the crowd, even in the packed arena.

"Bro, that chick from Friday? Absolute smoke show. Tightest fuckin' body I've seen all month. Screamed my name like she was in church."

He laughed—loud, careless. Eli flinched at the sound, but also… couldn't look away.

Nick leaned over toward Austin, fist bumping him. "You get with that blonde again? The one with the fake lashes? Told you she wanted it."

Austin gave a small smirk and a slow nod.

Nick whistled. "Fucking savage. Bro, you live the dream. These girls are starving out here, man. I swear, give 'em a wink and they melt."

He leaned back, spreading out in his seat like the arena was built for him. Tugging at the collar of his shirt to reveal a bit more of his chest, Nick caught sight of a group of girls walking by and grinned.

"Watch this," he muttered to Austin with a wink, then stood up mid-row, swaggering down toward the girls with no hesitation, confidence practically dripping off of him. He said something loud—too loud—and one of the girls laughed, tossing her hair. Nick threw his arm around her shoulders like they'd known each other for years, spinning her toward her friends like a prize.

"Told ya I was gonna pull one," he called back over his shoulder to Austin, who simply smirked, watching the spectacle unfold with an amused shake of his head.

Nick whispered something into the girl's ear, then pointed toward Austin with a booming laugh. The girls looked over, giggling, before Nick made his way back up the steps.

"Bro's the silent killer," Nick said with a grin, clapping Austin on the shoulder. "All I gotta do is point, and they're wet."

Then—he smiled.

It wasn't the kind of smile that invited you in. It was the kind that promised trouble. A flash of white teeth, confidence, and danger wrapped in testosterone and ego. Eli caught it from two rows back—and felt his whole body lock up.

The smile was erotic, magnetic. But there was something vicious in it. It wasn't meant for him. Nick hadn't even registered Eli's presence. But just seeing it made Eli feel exposed.

That smile was a warning.

He was the embodiment of danger and dominance, the kind of guy Eli knew would destroy him with a glance. There was no softness. No filter. No shame.

Eli couldn't help it—his stomach fluttered with something he hated admitting. Arousal. Terror. Obsession.

And from a row ahead, Austin glanced back once—just once—and caught the look on Eli's face.

He smirked.

Because he knew exactly what Eli was feeling.

Just then, Nick leaned over again, clearly enjoying the spotlight he never stopped demanding. Whatever he said was low and crude, just for Austin's ears—and Austin's expression cracked. The cool exterior gave way to something looser, rougher, like a mask dropped in the presence of a real friend.

"You're such a piece of work, bro," Austin said, laughing under his breath. He bumped Nick's shoulder, eyes lighting up with something rare—genuine camaraderie. "But yeah, she was into it. Said I ruined her for anyone else."

Nick let out a bark of laughter, no filter, no care who heard. "Classic. You and your damn cheat codes, man. Bro, stop hogging all the tens. Leave a couple for the rest of us degenerates."

Austin rolled his eyes but smirked, lifting his drink in salute. "Earn it like I did, asshole."

The two of them shared a look, a loud laugh, and suddenly Austin wasn't the polished, controlled version Eli usually saw. He was in full bro mode—smirking, flexing slightly as he laughed, leaning into Nick like they'd ruled every locker room they ever walked into.

It was jarring—and hot.

Because Eli had never seen Austin like that. He looked unfiltered. Real. Like this version of him had always been waiting under the surface.

————

When it came to Austin's friends, Eli hadn’t expected someone like Adam.

He'd imagined someone like Nick—or worse. Another alpha clone who acted like women and protein shakes were all that mattered. But Adam? Adam was something else entirely. He looked like he belonged in their circle—tall, athletic, lean muscle in all the right places—but his energy was nothing like the others.

He was open. Friendly. Grounded.

"Hey," Adam said, holding out a hand when Austin made the lazy introduction. "Adam. You're Iris's brother, right? Cool to finally meet you."

Eli blinked, surprised by the genuine smile. "Yeah—Eli. Nice to meet you too."

Austin didn't bother to chime in, already sipping from a shaker bottle and looking at his phone.

"Iris told me you were around a lot," Adam added with a chuckle. "Guess that makes sense now."

Austin shrugged, not looking up. "She made me promise to hang with him today."

"I don't mind," Adam said quickly. "Actually, I was about to hit the gym, but I can reschedule—"

"No," Austin cut in, finally glancing up. "We'll go. Just us."

Adam glanced at Eli, clearly not wanting to exclude him. "Unless you want to come too? It's chill either way."

Eli nodded, heart hammering. "Sure. Sounds good."

————

Eli was used to following Austin to the gym. There, he could drool over Austin's body without restraint. Austin, of course, rarely acknowledged him. It was a game for both of them.

But Austin always made an effort to keep Eli out of sight—to avoid unwanted attention. No one was supposed to suspect that a guy like Eli was hanging around someone like Austin.

Not even when Austin's younger brother suddenly appeared on the scene.

It had been a few days ago. Eli had just returned to Austin's place after working a grueling night shift, all he could think about was crashing on the couch for a few hours. The hallway was quiet, the familiar scent of Austin's cologne still lingering from earlier.

But as he stepped into the kitchen, the low hum of a blender caught his attention.

Someone was already there.

A guy leaned against the marble countertop, sipping a thick protein shake from a clear bottle. Tall. Muscular. Blonde hair, shorter on the sides, styled with effortless confidence. He wore a deep blue tank top that made his frame look even more pronounced—the kind of build that made gym influencers jealous. His skin glowed under the kitchen lights, arms veined, neck glistening.

For a moment, Eli thought Austin had returned early. But the posture was too relaxed. The expression too open.

The stranger looked up from his phone and gave a slow, assessing once-over. "Yo. You Eli?"

Eli froze. "Uh... yeah."

The guy nodded, offered a hand. "Justin. Austin's brother. Guess I'm the surprise guest today."

He smiled. Not like Austin's smirks that always felt loaded—this one was disarmingly warm, and yet... just as commanding.

Eli took the handshake, his mind racing. Austin had never once mentioned having a brother. And now here he was, in the middle of their apartment like he belonged. Like he'd been here a hundred times before.

Justin tilted his head as he took another sip from his shake. "Don't worry, man. He probably didn't mention me ‘cause I've been outta state for a while. Work stuff. Startup gig in Seattle. I just moved back this week."

"Oh," Eli said, trying to compose himself. "Cool. That makes sense."

It didn't. Not really.

Because now that he saw him, he couldn't stop seeing the Austin in him. Same sharp jawline. Same cut-from-marble build. But different all the same. Where Austin was intense, cold, even cruel—Justin felt grounded. Open. Like a guy who wouldn't put you down just for breathing next to him. But that familiarity in his voice, the shape of his arms, the way he rested his weight against the counter like he owned it—that was Austin.

And then, a flash—Eli remembered. A photo from months ago on Austin's Instagram feed. He hadn't paid attention to the second guy back then. But now... the resemblance was unmistakable. Justin had always been there, just outside the spotlight.

Eli found himself locked in place, eyes tracing every shift in Justin's posture. He hated how quickly his heart had started pounding.

"He told me you were staying here," Justin said. "Said you were the brother of Iris, so you are like family. That true?"

Eli hesitated. "I guess you could say that."

Justin's expression shifted slightly. Less amused. More analytical.

"Huh," he muttered. "Didn't think he'd keep someone like you around. Not saying that to be rude. Just... surprising, considering it's Austin."

Eli tensed. "What does that mean?"

Justin shrugged, letting the moment hang. "You just don't seem like the kind of guy he lets get close. He always had his... type."

Before Eli could respond, Justin stood and stretched, tank riding up to reveal tight abs and the dip of his hips. Eli tried not to stare.

Justin leaned against the doorframe. "You seem alright though. Maybe he's changed. Or maybe you just caught him in a generous mood."

Just then, the door opened behind them. Heavy footsteps. Austin.

He walked in, scanning the scene with narrowed eyes. His jaw tightened ever so slightly.

"Didn't realize we were having a family reunion," Austin said, voice clipped.

Justin turned slightly on the couch, grinning. "I was in the neighborhood. Figured I'd say hi. Didn't believe you were keeping Iris' brother as a roommate."

Austin's eyes flicked to Eli. Not pleased. Not surprised either. Just annoyed.

"Well, now you know," he said. Then, to Eli, "Got something to do or you just standing there for fun?"

The tension hung like smoke.

Justin gave a low chuckle. "C'mon. Don't be like that."

Austin grabbed his keys and turned. "We're heading out."

"Where to?"

"Gym."

Justin adjusted his shirt. "You're not coming?" he asked Eli casually.

Austin cut in. "He wouldn't lift a bar if it had gold on it."

Justin laughed, short and sharp. "Damn. Brutal."

But Eli caught the flicker of something else in Justin's smile. Not just amusement. Something colder.

And then they were gone—two forces of nature moving out the door, leaving Eli standing in their wake.

————

But with Adam in the gym this place became something else entirely. Eli had been there countless times with Austin alone—but never like this. The two of them fell into rhythm instantly, spotting each other, trash-talking between sets.

"You're slipping, man," Adam said, racking his weights. "That last incline was sloppy."

"Bullshit," Austin replied with a smirk. "You're just jealous I've still got the better chest."

"You've got the better ego, maybe."

Eli hovered at the edge, pretending to be into his cardio, but his eyes kept drifting back. To Adam's shoulders. The way his chest swelled with each rep. The defined lines of his arms when he racked a barbell.

And that smile.

Friendly. Real. Like he didn't have anything to prove. Eli could see why Austin kept him around—it grounded the whole dynamic. Even if Austin was colder now, Owen still respected the bond.

"You sure you're good over there?" Adam called out at one point, looking toward Eli on the treadmill.

Eli nodded quickly. "Yeah, I'm just doing cardio."

"No worries. Just let us know if you wanna jump in."

"He won't," Austin muttered to Adam. "He's more of a watcher."

Eli flushed but forced a laugh. Adam gave a brief glance—confused, maybe—but didn't press.

The rest of the session, Eli tried hard not to stare. He focused on keeping his form tight, wiping sweat often, hoping Adam wouldn't catch a glimpse of the way his eyes lingered.

But when Adam peeled off his sweatshirt halfway through the workout, revealing that sculpted torso, Eli's stomach twisted. Not with lust alone. But with guilt. Guilt that he craved something pure—and turned it into his black fantasy.

Adam caught his eye at the water fountain later, offering a kind smile.

"Hey, if you ever wanna tag along for a workout or just talk fitness, I’m around," Adam said, easy and sincere. "No pressure, man."

"Yeah," Eli replied, his voice catching slightly. "That... that’d be great."

And as Adam turned back toward Austin, laughing at something stupid he said, Eli knew he was doomed.

Because there was something about Adam—the body of a god, the soul of a saint—that made Eli want to be good. Even if he couldn't stop living his fantasy.

————

The morning sunlight was already sharp when Austin walked through the front door, a tailored camel coat hanging open over a white V-neck tee and slim jeans. The collar of a leather jacket peeked out from under the coat, framing his jaw like armor. His boots clicked sharply against the floor. He looked annoyed. Not furious—just mildly inconvenienced, like whatever girl he'd left in bed wasn't worth the Uber back.

Eli stood in the hallway, breath catching.

Austin looked like a walking ad for danger and dominance. The coat framed his broad shoulders perfectly, the jeans hugging his thighs just right. The way his hand casually tugged at the hem of his shirt made the moment feel choreographed—effortless and commanding.

"What?" Austin asked, catching Eli's stare, voice flat and cold.

Eli blinked. "N-nothing. Just... welcome back."

Austin grunted, grabbing a protein bar from the kitchen. "I am going to the gym."

Eli's heart jumped. He opened his mouth to beg—then stopped.

"You're coming too," Austin said casually, already peeling the wrapper. "Don't look so surprised. Even Adam'll be there. Figured you'd enjoy that."

Eli stiffened.

Austin turned, a lazy smirk on his lips. "You really think I haven't noticed how you act around him? The good guy. The sweet one. Bet you dream about thanking him on your knees, huh?"

Eli flushed, lips parting, but Austin didn't wait for a reply.

"Just remember your role," he added, stepping closer, eyes sharp beneath the edge of his coat. "You're my servant. You don't get to choose who turns you on. I do."

————

The gym air was thick with testosterone and pre-workout fumes.

Adam greeted Eli the moment they walked in. His smile was just as warm, his handshake firm.

"Hey! Good to see you again, man. Glad you came."

Eli melted. "Thanks. You too."

Austin slipped between them quickly, clapping Adam on the shoulder. "Let's get started. Bench first."

The two dove into their rhythm—warm-up, plates, reps, low banter about stocks and macros. Eli stuck to cardio, eyes tracing the two of them. Adam was all focus. Form perfect. Eyes kind. Even as he tried to include Eli with little comments, Austin pulled him away.

"Let him run. You're here for a real workout."

Half an hour in, Austin left for a moment and Adam turned during a water break.

"You and Iris get along well?" he asked Eli.

"Yeah, she's great."

"That's good. I've known Austin forever. If he's serious about someone, I wanna know the people around her are solid. You seem... grounded."

Eli smiled faintly. "I try."

Adam clapped his shoulder. "Keep trying."

Austin returned minutes later, scowling as he saw the two of them mid-conversation. His voice was clipped. "You done bonding yet?"

"We're good," Adam said easily. "Just chatting."

Austin gave Eli a look. The kind that said: mine.

———

Eli slipped into the restroom to catch his breath—but the moment the door clicked shut behind him, he froze.

Nick.

The beast stood shirtless, entirely absorbed in his reflection.

Under the harsh, sterile locker room lights, every inch of his carved physique was on display. He wasn't posing for anyone. This wasn't vanity. It was reverence—toward himself.

Nick grinned at his reflection. Not with arrogance, not with menace - just a quiet, deeply satisfied grin. Like a man who is proud of the temple he has built. As if the mirror only reflected a pale version of who he thought he really was. As if he knew he could never reflect the full power.

Then his gaze wandered upwards and caught on Eli through the reflection, who was playing with his own bulge with his hands.

The mood changed instantly.

"What the fuck do you think you're lookin' at?" Nick growled, stepping forward, veins popping along his neck.

Eli's breath caught.

Nick advanced like a charging bull. "You some kinda fuckin' creep? You wanna stare at me like that, you better be ready to deal with it."

Eli stumbled backward.

"Eyes down, freak," Nick snapped, voice rising. "You hear me? You think this is a fuckin' show for you to jerk off to?"

Eli bolted for the nearest stall, slammed it shut, and locked it. His pulse hammered as Nick's voice echoed through the room.

"Sick little bitch. Don't even belong in this gym. Stay the fuck away from me."

Eli crouched in silence, breath ragged, humiliated. The cold tile pressed against his back as he stared at the closed door of the stall, his thoughts racing.

Why the hell is Nick here?

Finally, with a shallow breath, he stood. His legs were stiff, his heart still hammering in his chest. Carefully, he unlocked the stall and pushed it open just an inch—then another—peeking out as if the air beyond might bite.

Empty.

He stepped out slowly, shoes echoing faintly on the tiles. No sign of Nick. Just the afterimage of that confident grin in the mirror, etched into his mind.

————

Back in the gym, Nick was nowhere to be seen. Eli hoped—prayed—they'd missed each other. Adam greeted him with a warm nod, like nothing had happened. Eli forced a smile, but the question burned in his throat.

"Did you know Nick was here?" he hissed at Austin, voice low.

Austin smirked, tossing a towel over his shoulder like it was nothing. "I know."

Eli blinked. "You... what?"

Austin's smirk didn't fade—but his gaze sharpened, cool and annoyed. Eli flinched, instinctively taking a step back. Without another word, he returned to the treadmill, head down, heart thudding.

Just as he reached for the start button, a voice rang across the gym floor.

"Yo!" Nick barked, striding in like the space belonged to him. "What's up, bros?"

The dynamic shifted instantly.

Austin leaned back into his relaxed dominance, arms loose, grin sharp. Nick took up space—loud, physical, unfiltered. And Adam? He moved with effortless calm, fitting into place like the final piece of a puzzle.

"You made it," Austin said, smirking.

Nick flexed one arm casually. "You think I'd miss a pump with my boys?"

Adam chuckled and pulled out his phone. "Alright—squad shot. Let's make it official."

He took the selfie—all three flexing in front of the dumbbells.

They looked like gods.

Still on cardio, Eli listened in on their locker room banter. Nick was loud, throwing weight around with a theatrical grunt after every set. He thrived on attention, barking jokes and jabs, flexing whenever a mirror caught his form. Austin smirked along, occasionally adding a low comment that kept the rhythm going—cool, detached, but fully present.

Adam, meanwhile, balanced the chaos. Calm and precise, he moved between sets with silent discipline, re-racking Nick's weights without a word, adjusting posture when needed. He didn't compete for the spotlight—he just existed in it naturally. And somehow, that dynamic worked. Nick's storm, Austin's swagger, and Adam's grounded control—they weren't just friends, they were a unit. The kind Eli could never touch.

Nick moved on to dumbbell presses. Each rep was a performance. Sweat rolled down his chest as Adam hovered behind him, hands guiding for perfect execution.

"Keep it clean," Adam said. "Full range. No swing."

Nick grunted, pressing harder. After the set, he tossed the dumbbells down with a thunderous crash. "Fuck yeah! That's what I'm talkin' about!"

Then came the deadlifts. Every rep was a thunderclap. Every growl exaggerated. Adam coached him softly between breaths, calm and precise.

After the final set, Nick roared loud enough to echo across the gym. He stood tall, sweat clinging to every cut of his chest, breathing heavily—an animal momentarily satisfied.

Then his eyes found Eli again.

The moment stilled. Nick's smile faded, jaw setting. Without a word, he dropped the bar with a clang that made heads turn and stormed across the gym floor, his footsteps as heavy as his mood.

"You again?" he growled, voice low, teeth clenched. "You some little gym perv?"

Eli froze. His body stiffened, breath caught in his throat.

Nick advanced. "I catch you starin' one more time, I swear, I'll drag you outta here myself."

Before he could close the gap, Austin intercepted—cool and calculated.

"Chill, Nick," Austin said, blocking his path. "Didn't know some random dude could break your temper like that."

Nick's nostrils flared. "Bro, he's been watchin' me all day like I'm some strip show."

Adam joined them, calm as ever but with purpose in his tone. "What's going on here?"

"This boy here's about to get a lesson in boundaries," Nick snapped, eyes still locked on Eli.

Eli's eyes found Adam's, pleading silently. Adam's return gaze was calm and grounding. He offered a small smile—gentle, almost brotherly. A quiet message: I've got this.

Adam then slipped between Austin and Nick, placing himself directly in front of Eli. He flexed one arm slowly, each movement deliberate, and looked down at Eli with a smile that was all golden charm and quiet dominance.

"You think Eli's ready to suck me off?" he said, voice smooth, grin sharp like a knife wrapped in velvet.

For a heartbeat, the world stilled. Eli's breath caught.

That smile—so warm before—now dripped with something dark. The curtain was pulled back.

Eli's eyes darted to Austin, desperate for clarity—but all he saw was approval. The same look Austin wore when admiring his own reflection: proud. Possessive. Unapologetic.

Austin rested his arm on Adam's shoulder—casual, commanding. "What do you say, Eli? I let my boys test out some new pills. Ones that let them possess bodies—even without the natural gift. Then I gave them the same formula I used."

His smile curled, slow and deliberate.

"Let them borrow a few... golden specimens."

Suddenly, Nick roared like a wild animal, tensing every muscle group. "God, this dude is so full of pure aggression." He laughed like a maniac, checking out his reflection again. "But who cares when you look like that—glorious as fuck. Can't get enough. If I didn't keep these new instincts under control… well, let's just say you wouldn't be standing there, Eli. And I'm not even talking about his thoughts. Dark. Cocky. Just the way I like it." He smiled in a way Eli could only read as threatening.

He laughed to himself, then turned back to the mirror, grinning. "And this face... yeah, no wonder people cave the second I flash a smile. Guess how many pussies that smile has already brought me."

His gaze slid back to Eli, the mood shifting—cold, sharp. "But every time I see you? It just boils in me. Why'd you have to walk in—staring like the creep you are—right when all those memories kicked in?"

Adam's smile twisted—cool, sharp, but carrying a sneer just beneath the surface. "Stop your bitching, Nick. At least the guy you're riding wasn't some puppy-dog do-gooder. You think playing Mr. Perfect was fun for me?"

He shook his head, flexing his jaw as if shaking off a bad taste. "All that grinning. All that ‘Hey Eli, how's your day?' crap. I had to sit there pretending to give a damn—like I didn't want to roll my eyes every time he opened his mouth."

Adam glanced back at Eli now, his voice thick with sarcasm. "You seemed to love it though. Thought Adam was your sweet little gym hero, didn't you?" He laughed, but there was no warmth in it. "God, that act was suffocating. No wonder he was always so quiet."

He leaned forward, voice low and mocking. "Hope you enjoyed it, Eli. Because that version of me? Gone."

Austin stepped back, eyes gleaming. "You didn't really think I was gonna keep all the fun for myself, did you, Eli? Those pills cost a fortune. But for my boys? Worth every cent."

He winked at Eli.

"Now I've got the full squad. The new golden boys. And you? You get to watch."

Eli's world shattered.

All three jocks stood before him—smirking, flexing, reborn.

"Do you think anyone will stop us if he sucks us off here and now?" Austin laughed, and there was a certain curiosity in his voice.

Adam leaned in with that familiar warmth—the one Eli used to trust. His tone was soft, almost apologetic. "So, Eli… mind if I go first?"

He smiled kindly, just like the old Adam. "I mean, come on, I've always been nice to you, haven't I? Always friendly. Always respectful. The good guy."

He chuckled softly. "Bet I was your favorite squad member, huh? The one you looked up to while pretending not to drool."

Eli blinked, caught in the familiarity—until Adam's expression twisted.

The smile he wore—so warm, so practiced—snapped into something else. A sneer. Cold. Sharp.

"Yeah," Adam muttered, his voice dropping as his smile turned cold. "Fuck this Mr. Nice Guy act."

He stepped in closer, his body towering over Eli with casual dominance. His fingers came up—soft at first—brushing Eli's cheek in a mockingly gentle stroke.

"You liked it, though, didn't you?" he whispered. "That sweet, humble Adam. The one who smiled at you like you mattered."

Then his thumb pressed under Eli's chin, forcing his head up.

"So how about you thank me for all that fake kindness, huh? Get on your knees like the grateful little bitch you've always been."

He gave Eli's cheek a patronizing pat—more firm this time, like ruffling the hair of a child he barely tolerated.

"You never wanted Adam. You wanted me," he said, his voice like velvet draped over barbed wire. "to treat you like trash."

And with that, he smiled again.

In the background, a guy tried to pass the group—but Nick had already made it clear, with nothing more than a glare and a subtle shift in posture, that he needed to take the long way around. No room for questions. No room for interpretation.

"Gosh, fuckers," Nick muttered once the guy was out of sight, shaking his head. Then, with a mocking smirk, he turned to Adam. "Hope you're not planning to let him suck you dry. Just look at him—guy's practically shaking."

As Adam chuckled darkly, Nick took a slow, deliberate step back—circling around Eli like a predator eyeing weak prey. His heavy breath grazed the back of Eli's neck before he spoke.

"Just know," he growled, voice close now, breath hot against Eli's ear, "if you screw this up… I'll tear you apart."

Austin, watching from the side, let out a slow, amused breath—his smile tired, but proud.

————

The gym lights were soft in the late afternoon, casting long shadows across the polished floor. The room echoed with the rhythmic clank of weights and the distant thump of bass-heavy music. At the far end of the free weights area, Justin stood shirtless in front of the mirror, glistening with sweat.

He admired himself—shoulders pulled back, arms flexed just enough to make every vein pop. There was no shyness in his expression. No modesty. Just pure, wordless satisfaction. His shorts clung to his chiseled frame, abs contracting with every subtle movement. It wasn't just a glance—it was performance.

"Damn," he muttered, smirking as he twisted to check out his back. "What do you think, bro?"

Austin stood next to him, chewing gum with the same casual rhythm he always used when pretending not to be impressed.

"You've been killing it lately," he said—voice low, casual, but with a glint of approval.

Justin chuckled and struck a full front double biceps pose. The lighting carved definition into every groove, like a sculpture under a spotlight.

"Yeah? Think I finally caught up to you?"

Austin tilted his head, smirking. "Not yet. But you're definitely getting cockier. I'll give you that."

They both laughed.

"You always had it easy," Justin said, still locked on his own reflection. "The looks. The respect. Girls. Status. Guess I just had to figure out how to take some of that for myself."

Austin raised an eyebrow. "I doubt you have any trouble with girls."

"Of course not," Justin replied, flexing again with a cold, arrogant stare. "Just look at me."

Austin didn't respond right away. He nodded slowly, studying his brother through the mirror.

"You really like being you now, huh?" he asked finally, his tone more thoughtful.

Justin met his gaze. For just a flicker—barely a heartbeat—something else passed through his expression. Then the smirk deepened.

"Let's just say… I finally get why you enjoy walking around like a god," Justin said. "Can't blame me for loving it."

Austin let out a dry, knowing laugh. He slung his gym bag over his shoulder.

"Well, looks like you finally fit into my selected circle. Nick and Adam are already at my place. You coming?"

Justin didn't answer right away. He gave one last flex, ran a hand down the center of his abs, watching the muscles tighten beneath his touch. His smile, this time, wasn't just confident.

It was Eli's.

He turned to Austin, his voice calm—almost reverent.

"You always make sure I feel good, brother," he said, drawing out the last word with a knowing, intimate edge. "Don't think I'll ever get tired of that."

Austin grinned. "Wouldn't want you to."

Can someone tell me who this sexy man is?

Or at least give me more photos of him

Ain’t Easy Bein’ You

As Mark closes the door to his room from having dinner with his loving parents, his good posture and preppy jock persona diminish with a sigh and an eye roll, and his posture relaxes, pulling on the collar of his button up, now finding it restrictive and tight eyes meeting his own reflection”Damn kid, it ain’t easy bein’ you that’s for fuckin’ sure, but I guess it’s my fault for takin you on a whim” he says in a thick southern accent, sounding odd coming from his deep youthful broish voice.

“Thanks for dinner, it was great, love you, heh what fuckin’ bullshit” he mocked himself as he unbuttoned his top, revealing his muscular chest. Rubbing his hands up and down the musculature letting a low moan escape his lips. Something mark wouldn’t usually do, never one to show off, not even to himself. “But shit if this don’t make all the damn fake preppy bs I gotta do worth it, I guess I can keep playin little Mr perfect a while longer, though there ain’t nothing’ little about you is there?” He says patting the bulge in his pants.

Posing and flexing his youthful jock in the mirror, he makes a pouty face and mocks his reflection “aw now doing be makin’ that face at me boy I’m here to stay, already got everyone yer close to fooled. There ain’t no way I’m leaving yer hunky bod.”

Mark eventually drops the shirt fully exploring his body “though there might be a couple things I’m rearing to change about MY new life, first thing is that damn gal friend of yers, she annoys the fuckin’ life outta me, sorry boy but i ain’t waistin’ time on chicks lookin’ like this” he says squeezing his pecs.

“don’t know why you were in the first place when you had so many fellas lookin’ yer way. Mhmm fuck this’ll be fun, and yer dumb as parents don’t have a fuckin’ clue”

Almost as if on cue he hears a knocking at his door and he hears the mothers voice “just wanted to say goodnight sweetheart, I’ll see you tomorrow” immediately he switches his voice back to the regular Mark “goodnight mom, love you” then he hears her footsteps leave his door

“Stupid bitch” he mutters to himself.

Only if I can make some changes to his wardrobe, @101bodyswap

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Enjoying life

This is Carl, the fiancé of my daughter. Seems nice, huh?

Wrong. He is total dumbass. Fucking vanilla boring if you ask me. Healthy lifestyle and weight-lifitng. Fuck that. When I was young I just wanted to enjoy life. And I still do. The issue here is that I don't have much time left. Yeah, maybe I was enjoying my life way too much. Drinking, motorcycles, cigars. And as you can guess. I got cancer. The doctor said I might have weeks, maybe months.

And guess who appeared back in my life after hearing the news. Yeah, my daughter and her fucking Carl. I know they just want to get money from me. But you know what? I won't let them fuck with me like this. I got my own plans

As I started my plan. Set the money transfers, my will, my suicide note, everything. All I need now is for Kelly to leave for the trip with her friends. Kelly took her time, but eventually left.

Let's begin. I observed Carl on the balcony. Little fucker. Parading here shirtless just in a towel. I'll show you, you little brat

I ate enough shrooms and then approahced him.

"Hey, Mr. Bennett. You look a little pale. Are you ok?"

"When I will become you, I will be just fine." I pushed myself against him.

A dramatic battle of wills followed. He isn't so week as he seemed. But eventually I won anyway

I went to get the cigarettes I had stached on the balcony

"Finally I can enjoy atleast cigarettes. The cigars will have to wait for now."

I lit one and put it in my mouth. A familiar taste entered my new mouth.

I had two more after that one. Then I went to get some clothes from Carls wardrobe. I had to keep the plan going to get some alibi.

But suddenly Kelly appeared. "Hey, honey. Just forgot something to take with me. We' pushed the departure time for an hour, so I have some time to spend with you. Have you seen dad? Is he around somewhere?"

"No, I think he went to lie down. He wasn't feeling well."

Now, if you have a great moral compass, it's time for you to stop the story here. Because everything ended well and you can go to sleep.

If you stayed, well... You're just as a disturbing person as I am, so keep your judging for yourself.

Kelly took the towel and threw it behind her. We proceeded to kiss. But weirdly enough I was looking at her as another different woman. Not my daughter anymore. Than she went down a gave me a head. I can assure you that this girl is a pro and knows what she's doing. I have had my fare share of woman in my life before. But this has been one of the best blow jobs I have ever experienced.

And yeah. This is me now. I added some new tatoos to my body. Got myself a nice new collection of cigars and a motorbike. My new motorcycle is arriving on Tuesday, so I can't wait to enjoy my new life with Kelly. Carl and Kelly. Cute, huh?

Oh, and one thing. Carl forgot to mention to Kelly that he was bisexual. It was pretty wierd, when I was cheating on her with some girl and her boyfriend came, that I wanted to fuck him too. And I did. So yeah. I fuck with everybody I fancy now. Talk about enjoying life!

The Possession of Privilege

Sebastian had always been the life of the party, the golden boy with the world at his feet. That night was no different as he left the upscale bar, his laughter echoing in the cool night air. The alcohol had numbed his senses, making the city lights blur into a mesmerizing dance as he stumbled towards his car. He was too intoxicated to notice the slight weave in his steps or the way his speech slurred when he greeted the valet. With a careless toss of his keys, he slid into the driver's seat, the engine roaring to life under his unsteady hand. The thrill of the night still coursed through him, fueling his reckless decision to drive.

As he pulled onto the road, the world spun slightly, but Sebastian laughed it off, feeling invincible in his youth and wealth. However, his arrogance was quickly cut short by the flashing lights of a police cruiser behind him. He cursed under his breath, his buzz fading into a sobering realization of his predicament. Officer John Matthews stepped out of the cruiser, his silhouette authoritative under the streetlights.

From John's side, the night had started like any other shift, patrolling the streets, looking for those who broke the law. But when he spotted the erratic driving of a silver sports car, he knew this wasn't just another routine stop. As he approached the vehicle, the smell of alcohol confirmed his suspicions. The driver, a young man with tousled hair and an air of entitlement, was clearly drunk. John's heart raced with a mix of duty and an unexpected thrill; this was no ordinary DUI. This was Sebastian, the son of one of the city's wealthiest families, a life John had always envied.

With practiced ease, John read Sebastian his rights, his voice firm yet tinged with an underlying excitement. He pulled out his handcuffs, the metal glinting under the streetlights. As he secured Sebastian's wrists behind his back, he felt a surge of power, not just from the arrest but from the opportunity before him. The young man, too drunk to resist, mumbled incoherently as John guided him to the back of the police cruiser.

Once Sebastian was pinned to the car, John leaned in close, his breath hot against Sebastian's ear. "You're in for a surprise, rich boy," he whispered, his voice low and seductive. Before anyone could notice, John murmured an ancient spell he had discovered in a forgotten tome. The spell allowed him to enter and possess another's body by entering through their back. A sudden flash of light, an otherworldly sensation, and John found himself handcuffed next to the car.

Now in control, John, as Sebastian, felt the cold metal of the handcuffs against his new wrists. He quickly glanced around, ensuring no one was around. With a subtle movement, he let the key to the handcuffs fall from his pocket, a pre-planned action before he had initiated the spell. He then leaned forward, his body awkwardly contorted due to the cuffs, and managed to pick up the key with his fingers.

With a deft twist, he unlocked the cuffs, freeing his new hands. Standing up, he adjusted his clothing, feeling the luxurious fabric of Sebastian's outfit against his skin. He looked back at his new body in the side mirror and smirked. "Sorry, Sebastian, but I think I'll take it from here," he said to himself, his voice now smooth and rich, unlike his usual gruff tone.

Without wasting any time, John, now fully in Sebastian's body, drove away from the scene. He knew he had to act quickly before anyone realized what had happened. 

In the privacy of Sebastian's opulent apartment, John stood in front of a large, ornate mirror. He was wearing a luxurious silk robe, feeling the smooth fabric against his new, youthful skin. He admired his reflection, the toned body of Sebastian, and couldn't help but feel a thrill at the transformation.

John, still adjusting to his new voice, began to pretend to have a dialogue with his vessel, Sebastian:

"Hey, Sebastian," John said, his voice smooth and rich, unlike his usual gruff tone. "Look at us now, living the dream you took for granted."

He ran his hands over his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath the silk. "You had everything, didn't you? Money, freedom, and now, unfortunately for you, me."

John chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the marble bathroom. "I promise I'll take good care of your life. Better than you ever did, I reckon."

His hands continued their exploration, moving lower, past the silk robe to the waistband of his underwear. He admired the defined lines of his new body, the way the muscles tapered down to his groin. With a slow, deliberate motion, he slipped his hand inside, feeling the warmth and the firmness of Sebastian's cock. It was thick, with a smooth, velvety texture, and already semi-hard from the excitement of the situation.

"Look at you," John whispered, his breath catching as he began to stroke himself. He gripped the shaft firmly, his fingers tracing the prominent veins, feeling the pulse of blood as it swelled in his hand. He moved his hand up and down, slowly at first, savoring the sensation of the foreskin gliding over the head, which was now glistening with a bead of precum.

He used his thumb to spread the precum over the tip, making it slick, enhancing the glide of his strokes. "So perfect, so... powerful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. The silk robe fell open, revealing more of his new body. John's eyes were locked on his reflection, the sight of his own hand moving rhythmically over Sebastian's cock adding to the eroticism of the moment.

As he continued, his movements became more urgent, his breathing heavier. He watched in the mirror as his hand worked faster, the precum now mixing with his saliva as he spit into his palm for more lubrication. The sound of his wet strokes filled the room, a testament to his arousal.

John's perverse curiosity took over. He leaned closer to the mirror, watching intently as he used his other hand to gently tug at his balls, feeling their weight and warmth. "You like that, don't you, Sebastian?" he whispered, his voice dripping with a perverse delight. He squeezed them lightly, then more firmly, watching his reflection wince and moan.

His focus returned to his cock, now fully erect and throbbing. He spat again, this time directly onto the head, watching the saliva mix with precum before he began to stroke again, faster, more aggressively. He loved the way the slick sounds echoed in the bathroom, amplifying his perverse pleasure.

Finally, with a deep moan, John felt the tension build to a peak. His body tensed, and with a few final, firm strokes, he came, his cum shooting out in thick, white ropes, landing on the mirror in front of him. He watched, mesmerized, as the cum dripped down the glass, a stark contrast to the cool, reflective surface. He smeared some of it with his finger, bringing it to his lips, tasting the salty sweetness, further indulging in his perverse exploration.

"We're going to make some changes, you and I," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "First, no more reckless driving. We'll keep this body in prime condition."