Wednesday, September 7, 2022

SHIFTER - PART 1

My name is Blake Weiss … or at least it used to be. I’m not sure if anybody will ever read this, and I’m not sure why I’m writing it, but I figured if I sent emails to this address I could always go back and retrieve them no matter who I became. I know how that sounds. This is going to sound crazy, but I don’t exist anymore. Not that Blake Weiss was rocking life or anything. I wasn’t, but sometimes I miss who I was … even though I hated myself. I think that’s how it all started. I’d never liked myself. So, I’d have fantasies about being other people.
When I jerked off it would be as I imagined I was somebody else, anybody else. It’s what got me hard and really excited me. What would it feel like to look in the mirror and see a different face, to feel somebody else’s clothes on my body. To hear another voice when I spoke. The idea was intoxicating and seemed much more interesting that a twenty-something kid who had never done anything important or looked anything more than ordinary. Hard part was that the rest of my family were pretty accomplished. My older brother was an attorney at a small firm. He had more women than I could even imagine … but he was also a total asshole.
I was just the guy that never fit in … and I hated it. So, one night, I guess somebody was listening. Again, I know this is going to sound crazy, but it’s all true. This happened. It’s happening right now and if you continue to read on, you’re doing it at your own risk. You’ve been warned.
Every week, I wake up as a different person. The first time was five months ago and, after I found out what was really happening I started writing these emails to myself. I had to let the world know that something sinister was afoot. I had to warn anybody who would listen.
On January 21st, 2017 it happened for the first time. One moment I was in class at my university and I nodded off for a split second and then found myself walking down a hallway of an office. It was strange, almost as if reality had hicupped, like a small spark in time and space suddenly shifted. I looked down and saw that I was much taller, wearing a suit and an expensive watch. It was a strange sensation, being in another body, but it also felt amazing.
I passed a cubicle with a pretty hot woman and found her staring at me, but not like women NORMALLY look at me. There was something else I hadn’t seen in a woman’s eyes before. She was attracted to me.
“Good morning,” she said, biting her lip as I paused by her cubicle. She stood, leaned in with a smile. “We still on for after work?” She reached out, grazed my hand with hers and licked her lips. I felt my dick getting hard as I smiled, feeling hair on my lip. A mustache. I had a mustache.
“Absolutely,” I said, clearing my throat as she rubbed my arm and I got even harder.
She glanced around and leaned in farther, whispering in my ear. “Maybe we can play at lunch?” With that, she licked my ear and pulled back. My pants felt as if they were about to explode as I nodded, spying the men’s bathroom nearby. I nodded and ducked into the bathroom, locking the door behind me as I took a long breath. I was so hard that it hurt, my pants fully tented as I quickly unzipped them and released a dick that was very unfamiliar. I was large, MUCH larger than what I was used to and pointed to the sky. That’s when I looked up and saw my brother’s reflection staring back at me.
He looked like a perfect asshole. Flawless hair, a tailored suit with purple tie, cuff links and the trimmed beard I could never grow. Yeah, he was handsome and women loved him, and I’d always hated him. But now, standing there in his body, feeling his suit hanging on this unfamiliar frame and then taking a look at his huge dick at full mast, it hit me. HOLY SHIT … I’m a handsome douche. Women love me and … yeah, I could do this.
I reached down and ran my fingers over my brother’s dick. It was sensitive, hard as a rock and I couldn’t help the OH FUCKING LORD look that was plastered on Ryan’s face … on my face. Damn, this was going to get interesting.
But you don’t even know the half of it.

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