Last Seandays: Jack's Back

I walked into the locker room; Jack was waiting. "What time do you call this you fucker!" he growled at me.

I shrugged, "What's the matter pretty boy, I'm only ten minutes late."

"Fuck you! I'm meant to be meeting Trevor now. You know the agreement, I do the sport and you do the straight stuff. Claire has called six times by the way," he muttered pulling off his clothes. He stood there stretching his tight lean body. "Close the doors you idiot."

Last Seandays: Taking Your Medicine

I watched Robbie Schnyder, quarterback for the school, from the bleachers as the team practiced. He was amazing at all the school's sports, in fact they had a whole cabinet dedicated to his trophies. He was a good looking fuck as well, not that I looked ugly or anything, it's just he was going places--I wasn't.

It was his last year at college, he'd already got university covered and--I heard--a modelling career.

I glanced at Robbie's girlfriend, a few seats away--Kirsty Williamson. She was beautiful; lean and shaped perfectly, but she had a reputation, a gold digger. She glanced over and smiled. I wondered how many guys she'd been with, and whether Robbie even knew. She pouted and blew me a kiss, I felt my cheeks start to flush.

Last Seandays: Body Shop

Business was slow, the new cars had sophisticated immobilisers. To steal a car nowadays you needed the keys, and I knew just how to get them.

I'd found an expensive hotel in Las Vegas, valet parking was the answer. The hotel was busy, and they had a team of ten drivers. Strangely enough I had ten guys in my team as well, but they weren't the sort of people you'd willingly give you car to--but that was going to change.

Renting an expensive car, I filled the trunk with shopping and drove to the hotel. I pulled up outside and popped the trunk, one of the valet team came over and helped with the shopping before taking the car to park it.

I stood there for a moment, and waited. As I expected one of the team walked over, the name 'Nathan' was embossed on the badge. "Can I get someone to help you with those?" He asked.

"Can you help me?" I asked stuffing a $20 in his hand.

He looked at the bill, and his eyes lit up. "Well, I'm not meant to leave my station." I stuffed a $50 in his hand. "But--If the guy in charge can't take a break, what's the point?"

He let out a whistle, and six guys trotted up. "Craig, you man the desk, I'm just helping this gentleman with his shopping."

I'd done my homework, Nathan was the head of the valet team. He was big and strong, but the twenty-three year old had earned the trust and respect from the rest of the team--something I'd make use of later.

I told him the room I was staying in and followed him, it was an impressive sight. Strong broad shoulders, thick arms and a handsome face--definitely something I could work with. His uniform, black dress pants, white v-neck shirt and tailored waistcoat only emphasised his build further.

Opening the door to the room, he walked inside. My team was waiting and tackled him to the floor. It took all of them to subdue him. I took the serum and injected it into his neck, he continued to struggle for a couple of minutes then stopped.

Last Seandays: Intruder

"Tony, where are you?" I shouted into the quiet apartment. "I want my fucking deposit back if you're going to throw me out for no reason. You hear me?"

I slammed the door and started to search the rooms, and then I came across the fucker lying on the kitchen floor. "I want my money," I demanded.

He looked at me through lifeless eyes; he rolled onto his back with a dull thud. Then, inch by inch he was being pulled into the next room by his feet. I stood there for a moment as he slowly disappeared through the door, his limp arms dragging behind him.

"What the fuck?" I muttered following Tony into the next room. I stopped as I came face to face with a stranger; he was dressed in black, a hood over his face. Through the eyeholes piercing blue eyes flicked between me and Tony: he dropped Tony's feet and slowly pulled something from his pocket, the steel of a knife glinted in the sun.

Last Seandays: Pit Bull

I followed Paul across the road, looking him up and down with a little envy. "Why the fuck do I always have to wear the ugly one?" I droned in a thick Bronx accent.

Paul said nothing and tugged at the yellow vest he was wearing. I jogged behind him trying to keep up, Jerry had a face only his mother would love, but he was strong and built like a brick shit house. It didn't stop his unfortunate demise at my hands though, just another for my collection.

Last Seandays: Relax

"Trevor?" Kurt muttered eyes blinking slowly.

I snorted. "Ha, you must be joking. That twink isn't worth a sniff. I just used his shape to get close to you Kurt," I chuckled running a finger down his pecs.

He frowned, and I rolled my eyes returning to my original form. He gasped and tried to sit up, I pushed him easily back into the chair. "You're not going anywhere for the time being. You're flying back to the States tomorrow?" He let out a grunt, and I smiled. "I need a way to get into the country. Sure I'm a shape shifter, I could take your place, but that would leave lose ends. I hate lose ends," I muttered.

"You see Kurt, your going to get me in the country, and you won't even know you helped me. Tonight will just feel like a dream, you and Trevor will fly out and then—" I stop talking, Kurt appeared to be asleep from the sedative now.

Last Seandays: Sleeping Pair

I whispered to John. “Is that Tony and Jack in each others arms back there?” I asked nodding to the rear of the coach.

“Yeah, cute aren’t they.”

”Pfft, gay as fuck,” I groaned.

“Man, they’ve got it lucky they’re on holiday for another six weeks!”

“Fuck, you’re kidding me! Lucky shits we have to go home tonight, and why did you have to get a flight in the middle of the night? Jeez!”

“Look, don’t give me any shit. You’ll be thanking me when I’ve told you what I’ve done.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What?”

John waved a vial in front of my nose. “Fuck you didn’t” I said.

“Fuck I did,” John smiled.

Last Seandays: Complementary Swap

Danny walked out looking like the schools top football player; “How do I look?”

“Amazing” came the reply, “Yeah, felt really strange pulling on his clothes, his body is twice as big as mine” replied Danny.

They both looked at the unconscious original naked on the bed. “I really appreciate this Tony, can’t believe I’m going out with the guys and meeting up with Claire tonight.”

“Not a problem man, you go off and enjoy yourself, I’ll make sure Brett here doesn’t wake up.” Danny left to enjoy himself, while Tony had his own plans for the evening.

Stripping, Tony sidled up to Brett and whispered in his ear “It’s ok man he’s gone now”, with that Brett open his eyes and smiled at Tony; “Fuck it’s hard acting the straight jock all the time, great idea of yours to get guys to take my place all the time...”

Last Seandays: The Art of Subterfuge

I wouldn't say I was bad, hell, some people would call me nice. Well maybe.

I'm always looking to make an easy buck, and not afraid to step on anyone to get it. I guess you'd blame my parents, and I'd probably agree with you.

I was brought up on a ranch--as soon as I was able to talk they told me that I was an unwanted child. It wasn't until I was older that I really understood what they meant.

They treated me like staff, he'd give me a wage and she'd take it away telling me it was for room and board. As soon as I was old enough I ran away--to the city.

I spent years running, trying to put as many miles between me and the people I hated.

I'd settled in Kirkborough, a small town near to the Mexico border where the people were friendly. I'd got into a routine working for a living--in a coffee shop, although this time I was on a wage where I could afford a room and have some money left over.

My life changed when I saw Zack Selland crossing the road--I recognised him from the shop--he was a cool dude always friendly.

I'd been sitting on a bench he glanced over and I waved, he looked confused--as if he'd never seen me before. As he broke in a jog his wallet fell from his pocket. I shouted out, but he ignored me.

Picking up the wallet, I flipped through it--easily $500--WOW! If he was a nobody then the cash would be making my life easier but he always tipped well. I looked up and saw him turn a corner, and I gave chase.

Last Seandays: One story, two endings

Something different this time. This story has two endings, in the comments vote for your favourite. Collan's holding the fort next Seanday because I'm on holiday (maybe as someone else!).

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The phone buzzed in my pocket, hooking it out I checked the display--a message from Jackson. I muttered to myself *fucking idiot*.

I jammed my knee into the back of the giant below me, he cursed at me threatening me and my family--but I didn't give a fuck. I'd been out in the open for too long, and I needed a new identity one that I could slip so deeply into that nobody could sense me, not even the Doppel Agents.

"Shut the fuck up," I yelled, "you wouldn't be threatening me if you knew who I was. In fact you'd be begging me leave you alone."

Last Seandays: Fresh smell

Clive had been waiting three months for the package and finally it had arrived.

The DHL guy helped get the heavy box into the house, inside there were many other boxes sealed with for storage written on them.

“What’s going on?” asked the guy.

“I’ve moving out going to live with my family, I’m renting the house out to the local university they are going to use it as a Frat house.”

The 60 year old thanked the DHL guy before dragging the heavy box into his bedroom.

Pulling the delivery note off the box he read the details;

Male, 19 years old, black hair, 5’ 9”, brown eyes, tattoo right shoulder, build: muscular, pre-programmed: Football scholarship.

Clive pulled out the bubble wrap, pulling out what looked like an unconscious heavy body matching the description on the paperwork.

Clive bit his lip, “perfect.”

Looking at his watch Clive quickly stripped and sat with the jocks head between his knee’s. Reaching down he pulled the jocks mouth open, wider than normal and pushed his feet in.

Slowly but surely the 60 year old eased himself into the jocks heavy set body. With his newly acquired strength he was able to stand and watch in the mirror as he pulled the jocks head over his own.

He quickly pulled on some jeans, some his nephew had left, it was all he had that would fit.

Last Seandays: Under the skin

So where have I been for the past couple of weeks? Well as I’ve been trapped for a while I wanted to spread my wing a bit and perform some body hopping…

It’s true, I’ve had some fun in Ryan but it was time for a change.

Of course there were few that weren’t intimidated by Ryan’s physical size. I was out in the Mall, checking out some clothes; it was always fun to strip off my shirt in the shop and try stuff on – just for the looks from others.

It was in one of the many shops I spotted Chris, a lot smaller and younger than Ryan, but damn cute in his own way. I watched as he picked up a sweater and made his way to the fitting rooms. I followed him in…

I walked into the room, all the doors to the closets were open apart from one. I walked Ryan over to the closed door knocked on the door.

Last Seandays: Caught!

I arrived home early and was surprised to see Emma’s car parked in the drive, especially as she was Kane my room mates girlfriend.

I knew Kane shouldn’t be at home as I quietly crept into the house. I heard Emma talking on the phone in the bedroom and the shower was on, so I opened the door and walked in…

… inside Kane was drying his hair after just getting out of the shower. I walked in and locked the door waiting for him to finish.

He turned and stared at me; the strong, heavy built football player looked scared and started to apologise , stumbling over his words.

Seanday Reloaded: To Close

The doorbell rang again. "I'll get it," I shouted over the noise of the party. I looked at myself in the mirror and adjusted my tie. Yeah, I looked good--I always did.

I opened the door, and more of her friends filed in. I smiled tightly as they laughed and pushed at each other; all of them a good five years younger than me. "Mr. A," they acknowledged as they passed. I knew them all, I'd seen them before but not all together. My skin prickled, excitement or jealously I wasn't sure.

Following the new guests back to the party I glanced cautiously around the group. One of them gripped my arm, "This is a great birthday party," Peter told me, trying to be heard over the music.

I smiled. "Yes, had to do something special for my favourite niece," I replied in a raised voice looking over at Emily surrounded by her friends.

Peter tugged at my arm again and beckoning me to the quieter kitchen. "Sir, I don't want you to be mad or anything but we've got a special present for Em'."

Seanday Reloaded: Sentry One

Sgt. Banton walked up to the soldier glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching; satisfied he gives him a hard slap on the back; "You know soldier, I think you've been one of the best recruits I've had on this tour of duty." The soldier makes no comment or even moves.

Binton goes on, "Time ticks on, and you're about to be served your papers. You're being sent back home tomorrow, how do you feel about that?" The soldier remains both silent and motionless. "That's what I like about you son; strong and silent. You must have been guarding this gate for what the past four months? You know you scare the shit out of them, you're the best the boys have sent us."

There's a noise from behind; a cough. Binton turns to see another soldier, much smaller standing nearby. He salutes, "Private Jacks, reporting for duty. Sir!"

Seanday Reloaded: Desert Eyes

It was 2114, and my life was in tatters. I'd been accused of killing a tourist through neglect. It’s like trial by proxy, one robo-guide droids had malfunctioned and driven into a rock face. The tourist who'd rented the robo-guide hadn't buckled up and been killed. In this country, it's the droid's owner that is ultimately responsible, and I was up for termination. But I was on the run, into the desert heading for an empty checkpoint I knew.

Inside the checkpoint, I sent for one of the droids: Marcus. About thirty minutes later there was a gentle tap on the door. "Sir, are you there?" I recognised the soft gentle tones of the Mk226b. One of the most advanced models on my list, and the most realistic.

I opened the door, and Marcus stood there, his soft brown synthetic eyes had a relaxing effect on me. "Come inside quickly," I muttered looking around to see if he was followed.

"How can I help?" Marcus asked, in a soft unflustered tone.

"How old are you?"

"Three years since manufacture," he replied.

"And ageless," I added. "Strip."

Trade

by Carlos Palanca

It was a seemingly normal Saturday afternoon as Ben arrives at his friend, Justin’s house. He rang the doorbell to let him or any of his family members know that he’s at the door. A second or two later, he heard footsteps coming towards the door. He heard the door locks click and the door opens, revealing Justin’s mom, Mrs. Shepherd from the other side of it. 

Mrs. Shepherd greets Ben and he politely greets her back. He asks if Justin’s in the house. She informs Ben her son is inside but she also tells him that Justin is grounded and can’t leave the house. Ben assures her that he is just here to borrow something from Justin. She lets him in and tells him to head straight into Justin’s room and she’ll be in the kitchen if they need anything.

When Ben reaches Justin’s room, he notices that the door is closed. He knocks and says, “Justin, open up. It’s Ben.”

“It’s unlocked!” said Justin from the other side. Ben opens the door and sees Justin stripping off his clothes. “About time you got here! I thought that you weren’t going to show up!”

Becoming Travis Barker, Part 3

By Slick Psych

Can’t believe it’s been almost a year since I took over Travis’ life. Glad that Doc dealt with DJ AM, and “my” wife and I came to an arrangement. The Blink-182 boys are reunited, and it’s like old times again. Amazing how much energy the guys still have to fuck around. And who’d believe my boy Tim here was a total bottom in bed. He might be playing the tough boy now, but he takes it like a bitch in the sack. We threw some pants on for the show, but afterwards, we’re going to be wanting to burn off that energy again on the tour bus. And I can show off these sick tats, piercings, and mohawk like the fucking rockstar I am. Almost want to just pull those boxers down right now and shove this 8 inch uncut dick right up in his hungry hole. Plenty of time to fuck around, though. Damn, I love this life.

Becoming Travis Barker, Part 2

By Slick Psych

A couple months in and I’m finally starting to get the hang of this new body and my new rock star lifestyle. Love his DGAF attitude and these sick tats. “Self Made.” How fucking ironic. The skin’s fully healed and memories fused, with no trace of my fat old body left. Only a couple problems, though. His old buddy, DJ AM, was having trouble remembering me surviving the crash and might have to be dealt with. Also, that bitch of a wife of his, Shanna, who has trouble with the fact that Travis would rather be fucking around with his Blink boys than her. Still can’t remember how they had kids, but I’ll have to ditch the girl for more fun with my buds Mark and Tom. This drummer’s rhythm and attitude serve as well pounding skin as they do pounding drum skins. Excited to be going on tour again.

Becoming Travis Barker, Part 1

By Slick Psych

Fucking body suit process didn’t heal right. Guess Travis’ crash had an effect on the suit creation process after all. Doc told me he’d never made a skin suit out of a guy who had died with so many burns before, so it may be taking a while for it to heal. Still, Travis’ plane crash and hospitalization was the perfect cover for me to take over his life. Any gaps in my memories or strange behaviors could easily be explained away while the suit fuses with my body. Anything to get out of my boring desk job as an fat middle-aged accountant. Now, let’s see if death affected Travis Barker’s legendary drumming skills or if enough memories were transplanted successfully.