Buff

The awesome thing about being buff is the boost you give to your self-confidence. With those pecs and biceps and abs you don't care about anything anymore. It feels normal to go outside shirtless, it's OK to flirt with the bartender. You feel invincible, that you can do anything and you no longer care about other people's judgment. That's at least what I felt since I got this body.

I got three days ago and there's no way I'm going to give it back. I'm sorry for my bro Ryan, but he has to deal with it. Shit just happens sometimes. He didn't end up in a terrible body after all. I was fine with my body. I got quite a few guys and, to say the truth, my boyfriends were better looking than Ryan's. But that's probably because Ryan never needed boyfriend and I'm certainly not going to stop sleeping around.

Anyways, it all started three days ago, I was saying. Ryan and I went out with our friend Stacy, who had just been fired. It sucks, I know. We were having drinks and we were fooling around. W

We commented on a couple of funny youtube videos in the darkness of the bar and did all we could to cheer her up. We danced a little. We made fool of ourselves. Ryan got a superlong straw just to make her laugh. We asked her countless questions. It only half worked. 'I'm going home, guys. Thanks for the drinks and for your awesome support.' We begged to stay a little longer. It was only 9pm after all. There was nothing to do. And that's at that point that Ryan said. Wait: we need you to take a picture of us. It's for this face-swap app which I've just downloaded and it's totally cool. She nodded and took a snapshop of us.

Ryan then opened the app and showed how he could flip our faces and move his on my body and viceversa. The result was more pathetic than funny.

'Thanks for trying Ryan, but I'm OK. Rally.' She kissed him on the cheek and left the bar. He was stirring nervously his drink with the straw. I looked at him.
'What's this button?' I asked while pointing to this flashy red on the display of his phone. It said 'transform'. 'I've no idea,' he said intrigued and he clicked. Soon I felt an unbearable pressure on my face, as if I were parachuting or diving, which lasted just a moment. I turned around, no one seemed to have noticed a thing. We life in the bar went smoothly, as just a minute before. I turned my face and I got slapped.
'What the hell!'
While opening my eyes I got confused. In front of me there was my body, in my blue V-neck, with my drink. I looked at my hands. I was holding this drink with this ridiculously long straw. And I had these bulging pecs. I raised my head. We had switched bodies. Oh geez.
We went to the bathroom and talked animately for a while. I couldn't stop looking at myself in the mirror. Holy shit. I had the best body I had ever seen. 'Ryan, can you stop flexing? It's really not cool. I'm talking.' 'I'm sorry bro,' I said 'but it feels good. It feels SO good.' I was smiling in a way that must have looked rude. 'It's not funny. We need to find a way out of this.'
We used the app again, but searched for solutions online. Nothing.
While he was looking at websites, I lifted my eyes and met those of this handsome guy who started at me intently. I rubbed my hand over my chest and he did the same over his crotch. Gosh, it was sexy.
'Can you stop doing that? We need to find a solution.' 'Oh sure. Sorry.'
After two hours we still had not found anything. We went home together. As I was going to uni, it was not that I had to wake up early or anything and I could have spent the night at Ryan's. Oh well, that was now my place actually.

After half an hour, he knocked at the bathroom door. 'Ryan, what the hell are you doing?'
What do you think I was doing? I was doing what every other guy would have done in my shoes: I kept contemplating myself at the mirror and jerking off. 'One moment. I said.'

'What are you doing?' 'Nothing' I said. 'Where you masturbating.' 'No!' 'Oh my god. Yes, you did!' 'No. I didn't' What the hell! He became hysterical. He wanted to see my penis as he was sure that I had jerked off. He went on for 10 minutes, after which I agreed to take off my pants.
'I knew that!' he cried with a victorious smile. 'I knew that!' he repeated to my face, which I took and lowered. 'It's OK, babe, I said. You won.' and, while keeping lowering his head: 'Now, suck.'
at first he hesitated but then he did. He started sucking and sucking.
Oh my. It felt good. I kept pushing his head against my crotch. I wanted to reach the back of his mouth with my cock. I wanted to hit the back wall of his larying with my penis, I wanted to wreck his vocal chords. I wanted him to stop talking. I started pushing his head harder and faster.
'Wait Ryan! Not so fast. I'm suffocating.' I didn't care. Lord, it felt good. 'Wai--- Ry---wha----ck'
I came in his throat, splashing his mouth and teeth. Wow. It felt good.
I released my grip. He stood up. 'What the hell Ryan, did you want to kill me?' He started yelling and went on for a good ten minutes, after which someone knocked at the door.
'Fuck'. It was the neighbour. 'I'm sorry. I'm trying to sleep, Ryan. Could you please stop doing whatever you're doing?' 'Oh. I'm terribly sorry. I didn't noticed the time, but do not worry my friend is leaving.' 'What?' I grabbed his stuff and put him at the door. After three minutes I locked the door behind me. He kept on knocking, complaining. I just put my headphones on and started listening to music. After fifteen minutes he was gone. I sat at my computer and started looking if there was someone only ready for a hookup.

Quick Swap

It was one of those days. I didn't sleep well and, I don't know really why, but when I don't, I find myself daydreaming. I imagine of swapping bodies with everyone I see in the streets. I watch a lot of porn, more than I have the force to admit. I complain, I blame it on whatever, but I know it's because of sleep deprivation. And still, I do not do anything to sleep more.

I can not focus on my studies so I leave the library and go to the gym. I push hard, but I really can not perform. I turn on the volume of my iphone, but despite how loud the music I cannot erase my crappy thoughts.

I waste three minutes undecided as to what song to play next, when across the gym I see this blond guy in a striped top.

Holy Fuck! I'm like star struck. I cannot take my eyes off him. I run on the treadmill, I row, but every other minute I find my eyes returning to him. The way he moves and lifts weights is amazing. I had never seen someone like him. He passes his hand through his hair and I almost come. I'd better go, I think.

I go to the changing room. I take off my shirt and, as usual, I take a picture. (I know I'm fucked up, leave me in peace). 

And it is at that moment that I see him coming to the changing room. I hide inside one of the toilets and spy him. The guy opens his locker and takes out a bottle of water. He returns to the gym leaving the locker open.

I come closer and open it. Inside there's his gym bag, his boots, his clothes. Hanging from the hook a 

beanie. I put that one when I see the guy is back. 'What the fuck!'

I don't know what to do and I punch him in the face. He falls to the ground. I drag his body into one of the toilets. Other people are coming. I hold my breath. I hear voices, the noise of objects getting dropped, of zips getting unzipped. And I'm here with this hot body in my arms. It is at that point that I kiss him. My body metamorphoses into his.

I quickly take his clothes off and put them on. His white underwear, his jersey trousers, in whose pockets I found his black iphone. I do not bother about his striped top but I keep the beanie on.

The voices grow quieter. I put my clothes on him and leave the toilet.

Wow. At the mirror, looking back at me there is this hot blond guy.

I get back to the locker and quickly gather my stuff, among which I find a wallet. 'Travis' That's my name now? After a few hours I am in an apartment I have never seen, playing with a wardrobe that is definitely not mine. I don't have baseball hats. I have never been in New York.

It's like playing with dolls. I put stuff on and off for hours and take pictures of me all the time. By looking here and there I start getting a sense of whom Travis may be, but I also think that I can now turn it the way I want. Is this another chance in life? I hope at least I can sleep better, finally.

My Shorter Boss

I was a bit late for the meeting. Actually it was not that important. I could have arrived late. It was just drinks after all. But my hands were sweaty and I had to keep focusing on the road.

I was still a bit incredulous that Jamie agreed to grab a drink with me. I know that he wanted to ask me about a project. Yet, I still do not understand why, amongst all the people of our team, he picked me. Everyone would have liked to help Jamie, the new manager. He had arrived just a week ago and he already made a great impression on everyone. He threw a great party at his house. And we were all jealous by the way he dressed, which is way swankier than the clothes we wear here.

And this time was no less different. Besides a white tee, he put on some designer jeans, a Louis Vuitton belt and some D&G sneakers that must have costed him a fortune. He was standing there, outside the bar, smoking, a drink in his hands. After I parked, we started chatting.

Then he came to the point. Jamie wanted to know about the gay bars in the area. He wanted to get laid. That came as a bit of a surprise, but I should have guessed it. Actually the way he dressed explained it all. Sometimes we're just blind to the obvious. The revelation aroused me. I felt my cock getting harder and curving inwards. I lingered over his neck and his bulging, waxed chest. I even found his large watch incredibly sexy. It showed how successful he was. Was I getting a crush on my new boss? No. I didn't want him. I wanted to be him. I was getting a boner because an idea came to my head.

When he went to the bathroom I followed him. 'You need to pee too, Ralph?' he asked. 'No, not really.' I got closer to him. 'I came here because I'm going to be you.' And it did happen. No magic words, no stupid talismans. My sheer will was enough to make my brain enter his head and take possession of that body. It was smaller. His fingers, for instance, were tighter. And I could see everything at a lower lever. I glimpsed at myself in the mirror and was amazed by the transformation. Jamie, in my old body, was a bit dazed. 'What the hell did happen?' I was already out of the bathroom. I put on Jamie's leather jacket and left. 'Barman, my friend Ralph is paying. I gotta go.'
Twentyfive minutes later I was in his house, contemplating my crotch.

I unzipped my jeans and came on the floor. I undressed and went to the bathroom. I started flexing. I took a picture and I sent it to Ralph.

He didn't like it.

 Crazy Ralph. When he arrived the police was there, waiting for him. The day after I had to sack him. Apparently he made a mess at the bar too, he punched two people, and I had to go to apologize. It didn't matter. I was ecstatic and I adored my new position as a manager. I was very good at it actually and everyone seemed pleased with my decisions. It's just incredible that I never knew that before as I never had that opportunity.

Yet what I really adored was going to the gym. I liked the gym before too, but now it was a different thing. People were looking at me in a sexual way. I felt I could control everyone's mind. And I couldn't stop taking pictures of myself.

I did that at home, too, spending way too much time finding the right position and changing tank tops.
I started uploading them on Instagram. Vanity, of course, but isn't it totally justified in my case?

Another frame

Even if I try, I have the feeling I will never become a hunk. I do try to do push-ups and I run in the park, but my body always remain flabby. It's as if my body did not want to change. Anyway, so far, this is my best shot.

My older brother tells me to wait, that I'm still young, that I will develop a frame as impressive as those that I admire on the covers of Men's Health. He lent me his copies of the magazine, which I read religiously, from cover to cover. One day I even sneaked into his room while he was not there and put on his sneakers and his shorts. I did some crunches than I took the tube of protein powder he keeps on his shelf and served me a shake in the kitchen. I wanted to grow so badly.
And I wished I could be like my brother. My brother is a stunner. Look at him.

Then the very same day I don't know what took me, but I started plotting. I waited for my brother that night. He came back late, but thank god he slammed the door and woke me up. While he was brushing his teeth in the bathroom, I sneaked into his room and hid under his bed. He got back, tossed his shoes in a corner and lay on his bed. He took out his phone and started watching videos on it. I could hear men moaning and I moved my head a little, just enough so I could see what was going on. On the screen a man was touching himself. And so was my brother. The bed was shaking a little, gentle vibrations that somehow turned me on. Then I changed plan. I originally wanted to kiss him while he was asleep, but the video gave me an unexpected energy. I stood up and, as dark as a shadow, I grabbed his penis. 'What the fuck!' he shouted, but it was too late. I could feel my body transforming, my muscles growing, my head spinning. His body turned more and more flaccid, like a balloon that is deflating. My hair grew shorter, my chin square. I could feel my rib cage changing position.
I grew taller and so did my grin. 'What the hell is going on', he squeaked. 'Hey, this is not my voice!' he said horrified. 'What is happening?'
Quite frankly I did not know. He had turned into my small little me and I had acquired his body, his shredded, unbelievably muscular body. 'WHAT DID?' 'Sshhh'. I put my hand on his mouth.
'You don't want to wake up mam and pop, do you? Don't worry. It's just a dream.'
He shook his head. It was not just a dream. His tears started flowing across my fingers.
'Don't worry, everything will be fine tomorrow.' I hugged him. I hugged that little deflated, ill-formed balloon. I didn't like it. I didn't like touching that ill-formed body, but I stayed there and waited until he stopped sobbing.
'Everything will be OK. Do not worry a bit.'
He nodded. 'Now, go to your room. And put some clothes on. We don't want people to find us this way. Then it will look even weirder.' He nodded even if he could not stop weeping. I kept him close to me and accompanied to what was once my room. I put him in bed. I kissed him on the forehead and also on the mouth. Why not? I thought.
I closed the door behind me. He was still weeping. I could hear him. So I went to bathroom and turned the shower on. I took a picture of me and then jumped in the tub. I touched myself. I spread my hands all over that ripped surface that was my body. Then I dried with a towel, I put on a tee and a leather jacket and went out. I could not wait to have men drooling all over me.

A Better Face

This is me. I took this picture this morning in the bathroom.

Many people tell me I'm cute. And that I'm funny. My boyfriend, too, tells me that.
Yet, I don't just want to be cute. I want to be handsome. I wanna get rid of my pimples. I wanna a more proportionate face, and piercing eyes. I wanna be like Jonathan.

This is Jonathan.
I took this photograph when we went to London for a school trip. He does not even know that I have taken it. Jonathan is gorgeous. He's got everything I'd like to have: the moves, the voice, the clothes, the coolness.
So I stole his life.
This afternoon he asked me to go over his place to help him with maths. I'm good at maths. I understand it. 'Hey, can you help me with this?' He asked 'I just really cannot solve it.' I leaned forward from behind his chair. I took his pen from his hand. 'You see? This is where you make a mistake.' His cheek was next to mine. He smelled of cool kid. His hair was gently touching mine. I had a boner.
So I turned and kissed him.
The kiss was longer than expected but it did not matter. Nothing mattered anymore. My boyfriend did not matter. My mother did not matter. My miserable life did not matter. For a second I could feel a flow of energy coming into me. I swallowed it as fast as I could. I felt reinvigorated.
When I removed my lips, Jonathan fell on the floor, unconscious. I kneeled and raised his head. That was my head, with my hair, with my nose, with my pimples. I gasped. I smiled. I couldn't stop smiling.
I ran to the bathroom and in the mirror I saw the extraordinary. I had his face. I had his body. I had his smile.
My penis was huge, turgid. I could not help it. I had to masturbate. Right there, with those hands, with that body, which I couldn't help touching. I was him, but I was still me. And I could feel my desire in direct contact with the body that I wished so badly. I kept on smiling.
I never came so hard. I felt overwhelmed with pleasure. It was magic.
When I returned to my senses, I got back to the study. He was still there, his face against the ground. I took off his clothes and dressed him in mine. I then wore his. I put them on slowly, enjoying every bit of this final stage of my transformation. I talked to myself: 'Jonathan, Jonathan?' enjoying every single syllabe of my lower voice. I felt his ripped chest under his cotton tee. I zipped his hoodies, as he often does. I was acquiring his mannerisms. Good. Great.
In the back pocket was his phone. I went upstairs, to his room. I looked myself again in a large mirror attached to his wardrobe and was, once more, overwhelmed with happiness. I retouched my hair. Nothing else mattered. Nothing. I touched my face and smiled again. 'Who's the cool kid, now?'
Then I lay on his bed covered in white-and-blue stripes. Even his bed looked like it was coming from a magazine. I took his phone out and took a picture of me as Jonathan. I uploaded it on Instagram so that the whole world could see the new me. So I could start believing it more myself. This is me, now.