AMERICAN CHARLIE

I have a British friend, Charles, who allows me to use him as a skin suit every now and then. He loves the way it feels, and I love wearing him. I’m more of a bear type guy, but he’s not, so he’s always skintight when I pull him on, but I never let my body really FILL his up. I’ve never allowed my muscle and bear fat to affect the way I look when I’m Charles, but I always wonder what it would be like . . . if the two of us were to actually merge. 

In fact, I'm in the mood to be Charles right now. I go and find him. It doesn’t matter where he is. I can be at his side in a matter of seconds. 

He’s at home, getting ready for work, wearing one of his lovely suits. He sees me in the mirror and I see a faint smile ease over his face. He knows what’s coming, and he loves it just as much as I do. I give him a wink before tapping him on the back. He instantly empties into a suit, falling to the floor. 

I slide him on, my legs pushing into his. My cock sliding into his. Everything's so tight, my larger body and muscles straining to fill him up. My bear stomach stretches his out, and I let it, my muscular bear arms filling his up. Finally, I slide his face over mine, and look into the mirror to see him staring back at me, but he’s a bit bigger than he was before. 

My muscular bear bod forces his to be the same. The thickness looks good on him . . . or me. I lick my lips, staring at this new version of Charles. This bear version with thick muscle and soft, pink, sensitive nipples. I round my fingers over them, the sensation pulsing through me like lightning.

Yeah, it’s still him, but a different, merged version. Then I get an idea.

“Shall we play a bit more?” I ask, his accent holding strong as I smile into the mirror. The rush of Charles’ excitement pulses through me. He’s a skin suit, but he’s still here. I can feel him, and he loves every moment of this.  

“Okay,” I smile, his accent suddenly fading. “I feel like Charlie here is more American than you.” I smile, running my fingers over my lip, a thick mustache appearing as my new accent teases a more southern flair. “Yeah, Charlie here’s a good Texas man. Works on a ranch, sweating in the hot sun all day.” I reach down with Charlie’s new, meaty hands and rub my thicker cock. It’s twice the size with me filling it up. I close my eyes for a moment, reality shifting around me before I open them again to find myself looking in an older, rustic mirror. It’s hanging on a wood paneled barn wall. 

I can’t help but smile, adjusting the western hat perched on my head, my muscular bear frame struggling against the tight denim shirt. I still see pieces of Charles staring back at me. Same eyes. Same furrowed brow, but this American version is the best of both of us. I smile at my reflection, knowing that Charles is still there with me, deep inside. 

“So, what do you think, bud? Charlie’s got a lot of work to do.” I smile, tossing him another wink, and I feel Charles’ excitement wash through me. “Yeah, we might have to stay here for a while, see what kind of trouble we can get into.” 

I adjust my hard cock in my tight Levi’s and brush my hands over my mustache before straightening my hat. “Let’s get ‘er done.”

THE ATTORNEY

Another swap out of nowhere, but this is much more than the typical "show up in a strange body and try to figure out who I am" situation. Normally, I'd be able to find a restroom and check out my wallet and get a good look in the mirror, but I'm . . . I'm on a news set, being interviewed . . . LIVE.

I'm an attorney and, I can see myself in the video feed. I read my name . . . Charles Burnham.

Hello, Charles. Damn, I'm quite the bow tie daddy. I'm starting to get hard underneath the news desk. I'm packing quite a cock if the tension on my expensive trousers are any indication.

Trying to pay attention, I reach under the desk and rub my new cock. Oh god, this body is so fucking horny. I have to take care of this, but the whole world is watching . . . at least . . . yeah, I'm on CNN. So goddamn horny and looking at myself in the monitor isn't helping. Look at my perfectly parted salt and pepper hair and beard and . . . that suit . . . the way it feels against my body. I swallow hard, answering another question, trying to focus, but I have to take care of this.

I unzip and fortunately I'm wearing boxers. My new cock is easy to access as my fingers graze the sensitive, thick tip. Damn, this guys . . . I mean, I'm really packing. I smile faintly, trying to hide the fact that I'm starting to jerk myself off on national . . . no, world wide TV. I watch myself in the monitor. I make sure I don't crack. I look like a typical, boring white attorney. I gently tug. I make sure not to move my upper body as my new dick gets even harder, more engorged. How is that even possible?

I slide my new hand over it carefully, fake smiling as I answer another question about my client's impending case. My mind just gives me the answers as if on autopilot. I can't take my eyes off myself in the monitor. Fuck, this guy's hot and . . . those blue eyes . . . that tie . . . those daddy greys.

I tug a few more times. I feel a huge load working its way up until . . . it bursts out of my cock. My hand's wet with daddy cum as I nod again, answer another question as it suddenly hits.

Just look at me. FUCK, I might be a goddamn republican.

NORMAL GUY

Yesterday, I was Maxwell Foster, but most of the people in the office just referred to me as SIR. I was wealthy, handsome, respected and the envy of all my peers. But, I was overworked and tired of being the boss 24/7. It was exhausting to be the one who constantly answered everybody’s questions and told people what to do. The power and money was amazing, but I needed a vacation or a change or something. So, in a moment of sheer annoyance, I wished I could just be a normal guy, somebody with little responsibility who just flew under the radar. 

I didn’t expect anybody to be listening. 

Now, for the last week, I’ve been living the life of Samuel Smith, and he’s just as vanilla as his name. I woke up in his small apartment with inexpensive furniture and off the rack suits. I was thin, balding and had the presence of a wet towel. I was now a junior accountant in the firm and no matter how hard I tried, I was forced to exist with Samuel’s introverted, meek and mostly frightened personality. I went from being the confident man in charge to the worried man who simply wanted to please, and I mean that in every sense. 

Samuel was gay, but in the closet, and I wasn’t able to say no to my boss, Mr. Foster when he called me into his office for meetings and locked the door. I wasn’t able to resist the smell of his expensive cologne, his perfect features and the way he kissed me. He called me Sammy and demanded I call him SIR. It felt familiar and strange, but I never questioned him. I was just a simple accountant who was lucky a man like Maxwell Foster even knew I existed. 

LEATHERMANS FIRM

I'd started working at the firm about a month ago. I was kind of shocked when I got the job because I didn't, well, I really didn't fit in with the other men that worked there. They were all very fit, wore tight shirts and fine leather braces, etc. It was definitely a CLUB of sorts, but even though I'd been welcomed with incredible grace, I still felt a bit out of place.

It was time for my thirty day review, and I walked into my boss, Mr. Parker's, office. He was just as buff as the other men, his tight shirt strained by his physique. You could see every muscle, the tight leather braces giving his whole look a naughty flair. Some days it was hard working in an environment with so many good looking men...well, so many insanely good looking men.

"Jackson," Mr. Parker said. "It's so good to see you." Mr. Parker was always very kind, the type of man you were drawn to and the kind of man all men strived to be. "Please, have a seat." He motioned to a leather chair across from his desk and turned to face me, a calm look making him look even sexier than usual with his thick mustache.

"Thank you," I managed, feeling very small in his presence. I wasn't buff like the other men at the firm. I was shorter and thin, but I loved the work and wanted to make a difference.

PERFECT SON IN LAW

I couldn’t believe it was finally here; my wedding day. I’d met Jennifer in college and we dated for years before I popped the question last summer. Her dad was anything but happy about it, completely pissed because I didn’t ask for her hand like it was the 1950s. He was very conservative and I was not. We couldn’t be more different. I was a musician and he was the head of a law practice he’d started when Jen was little. He wore suits and did attorney stuff all day, whatever that was. He’d love it if I were more like him, but I was artistic and free-spirited. He was…well, he was NOT. 

The day of the wedding, everything was going smoothly. My bros had come in and threw me an insane bachelor party so I was kind of hung over. The last thing I wanted was to see Jen’s dad walking into the room. 

“Hey gentleman,” he said to my groomsmen. “Mind if we have the room for a moment? I want to have a chat with my soon to be son in law, here.”

My friends nodded, looking back at me as they left the room and Mr.Peterson, Jen’s dad, closed the door behind them. He looked exactly what you’d imagine a Mr. Peterson to look like. Very intense, bald, thick with a bushy mustache. He was much larger than me and always made me nervous, but he wanted to talk. Maybe this was the olive branch I’d been waiting for. We were going to have to make this work one way or another…even if he didn’t like me and was always a complete asshole. 

MYSTERY DADDY

It happened about a week ago. I woke up in a strange bed ina room I didn’t recognize. I felt heavier, almost as if I’d gained a thick layer of fat and muscle overnight. It seemed ridiculous, but once I started to explore my body, I realized that something was very wrong. I had a small layer of fuzz and my hands were larger and stranger than before. I moved them over my belly and up to my nipples. They were incredibly sensitive, and I felt my entire body tense up as I twirled them beneath thick fingertips. I moaned, my voice sounding much deeper and masculine than I remembered, but that’s the strange thing … I didn’t remember. I didn’t know who I was or who I had been, but knew this body didn’t belong to me. THIS was not me, but I somehow knew what it liked as I continued to rub my small pink nipples, my dick growing stiffer by the second. I couldn’t see it, but I felt it, blood flowing into it as it became thicker and harder … my hand drifted down to my crotch and I found a thick, engorged dick that I couldn’t resist. Why was I so hungry to touch this body? Why was I so tuned into to something I didn’t even know?

Unable to resist any longer, I sat up in bed and saw my long, meaty legs. So thick and strong. It wasn’t a swimmer’s body and didn’t look or feel young, but damn it turned me on.Curious, I reached up and felt my face for the first time. I had a mustache and that alone made my new dick twitch again. I’d never had a mustache before … or at least I didn’t think I had.

Clearing my throat, I found a doorway to a bathroom off the bedroom and stepped inside, searching for the light switch on the paneled walls. I flicked it on, light flooding the small bathroom as I glanced up and saw my reflection for the first time.

ELDERLY NEIGHBORHOOD

 

From TRAVIS THE DEMON, a blog I loved and miss quite a lot. Please message me, Travis!

NEW PERSPECTIVE

I opened my eyes, startled awake to find myself in a strange room. I was completely naked, trying to figure out what the hell was going on as I found an older guy coming toward me. He was about my dad’s age and was completely naked, his dick grazing my leg as he moved closer, smiling down at me.

“You okay, Marty?” He smiled down at my rock hard dick … a dick I DID NOT recognize and who the hell was Marty?

SOMETHING SCARY PART II

It had been two weeks since I’d given Grant the body suit and “costume” that changed him into the new, more strict Gary. Now, he liked to smoke cigars and was more a southern redneck with a thick mustache and deep voice, but nobody in the office seemed to notice the change. It was like it had always been this way and, even though Gary was more strict than Grant, he was also really good at taking care of me and then there was the fucking. Jesus, Gary knew how to use that huge new cock of his and when the shop owner told me the it was a SPECIAL costume shop, I never knew EXACTLY what they meant until Grant changed. He was my Daddy now, and he knew how to take care of me. I honestly never expected to love my job so much and didn’t feel like it could get any better … until Gary asked me to come in on a Saturday.

I stood in front of the mirror in the employee bathroom and made sure I was perfect for him. He loved my hair slicked back and I was wearing the blue tie he’d given me last week. I loved taking care of myself for Daddy. I knew he’d appreciate it and when daddy was happy, he made me even happier.

SOMETHING SCARY

Grant was an asshole. It was a reputation he enjoyed and had even worked hard to achieve. Everybody in the office hated him. He treated women like objects and everybody else like secondhand citizens. He even found great pleasure in giving me shit for being gay, even groping me once and then telling me THAT would never happen because he just wasn’t into fags. I’d been his assistant for seven months and had “broken the record” as far as surviving. All those before me had been women, all quitting after filing harassment claims that went nowhere because the company cared more about the money Grant brought in than treating people like decent human beings.

Unfortunately Grant was about to have a very bad day.

COSTUME SHOP - MR. CARSON

COP SWAP

When I told my best friend Ryan that I could merge myself with anybody I wanted, he didn’t believe me. What I didn’t tell him is that I could merge myself and anybody else touching me at the same time as well. So, I decided to give it a try. I mean it WAS Ryan’s birthday and all and he was just as into the idea of merging with a stranger as I was. Soooo, why not?

We found these two officers patrolling the mall and followed them around for what seemed like forever. I told Ryan that I’d merge with one of them while he distracted the other one, but I couldn’t do it in an open space. So, we waited for the right moment. Fortunately, everybody has to take a piss and finally, the two officers headed for the mall bathrooms.

We followed them in, both of them taking a place at the urinals. The butcher one finished first and headed to the sink to wash his hands and I gave Ryan a nod to distract him. I heard the faucet turn on and Ryan started to chat it up with the officer as I stepped up behind the other one still standing at the urinal. I placed my hand on his back and his entire body froze just before it pulled me in, enveloping me completely until I opened my eyes, glancing down at my new hand wrapped around my new cock.

BARBERSHOP

From TRAVIS THE DEMON, a blog I loved and miss quite a lot. Please message me, Travis!

CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR

AGED

 

From TRAVIS THE DEMON, a blog I loved and miss quite a lot. Please message me, Travis!

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.

GREY MAIL...

NEW STEPFATHER

I’d been a player for a long time, searching for the perfect score to set myself up. I loved the rich life. Expensive booze and cigars. I loved to party and fucking was one of my favorite things on the planet, but more than anything I wanted to be rich and powerful. I always had.

Growing up with nothing sucked and wasn’t how I’d spend my rest of my life. When I ran across Caroline Daniels I knew I’d hit the big score. She was a wealthy businessman’s daughter and was worth billions. Her dad, Franklin Daniels had built his empire from the ground up and was one of the most powerful men in the world. It was the life I wanted and I knew if I caught the daughter, the rest would eventually be mine. So, I did just that. I’d spent my entire life practicing that charming smile in the mirror and had become an expert at getting women to do what I wanted. It only took six months until Caroline and I were engaged. She was in the palm of my hand and she loved it when I fucked her hard. The good girls always did.

Her father, on the other hand, wasn’t a fan and that’s how I ended up here, sitting across from him in his expensive uptown office on a Sunday afternoon. He stared me down with his intense eyes. He was a big, solid man with a powerful presence … exactly what I wanted to be someday.

RESPECTED ALPHA

Parker stared at himself in the mirror. So different. 

Last year, he was one of the nerds, one of the kids the football team made fun of. It was a nightmare, and he hated his life. But, this summer, he finally hit his growth spurt. It was late, but he filled out, and when he started his senior year people barely recognized him. No braces. Contacts. He went from skinny D&D player to Abercrombie jock.

He joined the football team and, before he knew it, he was hanging with the cool kids. He was the one shoving his old friends in lockers and making their lives hell. HE was an alpha and loved every minute, but now, standing there, staring at his reflection in the mirror . . . Parker knew it was all fake. He was still the smallest guy on the team and even though he’d done horrible things to his old friends and fucked more cheerleaders than he could ever imagine, they still didn’t respect him…and that’s all he really wanted. 

“It’s what I deserve,” he whispered. 

I stepped from the shadows behind him. “Is it?” I asked, a calm smile easing over my face. Parker turned, shocked to see a stranger in the locker room.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m here to help you, Parker.” The sounds of my voice instantly calmed him; one of my many gifts. “Is it what you truly desire?”

BEST FRIENDS

WOW! That’s all I could think as I looked in the mirror. When I’d gone to sleep, I was just an average little black twink. My best friend, Dana, was bitching at dinner about how hard it was to meet a great guy and, of course, I totally agreed. We started talking about how we wished WE were perfect for each other, but how would that work? I mean, I was gay and she wasn’t so our parts didn’t necessarily match, and I wasn’t the normal jock hipster type she normally went for. Until now…