Guest Post: Hard Work Pays Off

by Erick S.

“Am I ready yet?” Tyler asked with that ever-hopeful tone to his voice. 

He lifted one arm above his head, flexed his bicep, and tensed his abs. He pulled the waistband of his workout shorts down just a bit so I could get a better view of his progress.

“Hmm…” I circled him as he dutifully held his pose, “I’m not quite sure, Tyler. Have you been working hard?”

This was the little game we played after each of his workouts. He didn’t know today was the day it was finally going to happen.

“Oh yes!” he responded, “I’ve been working really hard! See?”

He changed his pose for me, this time another classic bodybuilding pose, his torso slightly twisted, his pumped-up arms tucked away to the side, and his chest proudly puffed up in front of him.

“And you’ve been taking all of your supplements?” I asked, still slowly circling him, taking a look at every detail.

“Yes!” he answered back, “Every morning, every afternoon, every night. Supplements help me grow!”

“That’s right,” I smiled. He really had been an excellent student, “You’ve done a very good job, Tyler. Do you remember how you looked before we met?”

I could see the poor little wheels in his head trying to spin, trying to think back to when he’d first answered my ad for a roommate in my apartment close to campus. He was a pretty unassuming guy back then. A blank canvas, really.

The Perfect Guy, Chapter Three

By Erick S. Read Part ONE, Part TWO

Tony Marinello woke up at 4:42 the next morning, three minutes before his alarm was set to go off.

“Fuck, dude,” he grumbled as he rolled around onto his back, revealing a noticeable tent in the sheets.

He tossed the sheets aside and looked down at his magnificent, naked body. He gave his abs a flex, and that’s when he noticed the dried cum that was splattered across his stomach. A little bit had even dried on the underside of his left pec.

“Fuck,” he thought, “Did I fuckin’ jack off last night before bed? I haven’t done that since I was a young dude.”

Of course, then he realized that he was a young dude. And the more the thought about the night before, the fuzzier it seemed to get in his mind.

“Dude, I must have had some fucked up dreams or some shit,” he reasoned to himself.

His alarm went off, bringing him back to the present. He gave himself a good stretch and pushed himself out of bed, his feet landing with a heavy thud on the floor. Then it was a hundred pushups and a hundred situps, as usual, all done completely naked and still totally rock-hard.

His heart now pumping, and his body glistening with sweat, he made his way to the bathroom. His hard dick bobbed heavily in front of him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, addressing his cock, “I’m about to take care of you in the shower, dude.”

Tony’s first appointment of the day was with a freshman named Jason Owens. The kid was easy to spot when Tony got to the gym. He was built all right, probably from wrestling in high school, but he looked nervous as hell. Tony puffed up his chest as he swaggered over and extended a hand.

“You Jason?” he said, looking down at the trembling freshman.

“Yeah,” Jason gulped, “That’s me. You’re Tony?”

“Yeah, dude,” Tony said, and then he remembered something very important, “Oh, shit. I wrote up a workout program for you and I fucking forgot it at home. Mind if I go grab it, dude? I live right around the corner. Promise I can be back in 10 minutes.”

The Perfect Guy, Chapter Two

By Erick S. Read Part 1 now

Mr. Anthony Dodds shook his head as Andrew Jenkins sauntered out of his classroom. There was something different about that student lately, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Kids,” he muttered under his breath.

He picked the folded piece of paper that Andrew had left behind and went to toss it in the trash can at the front of the room underneath his desk. He must have missed the trashcan, because the note ended up sliding right into the front pocket of his briefcase.

When he got home that evening, he laid his briefcase down on the kitchen table just like he always did, and saw a corner of the paper peeking out from the pocket. Out of curiosity, he removed the note from his briefcase and unfolded it as he stood over the table.

At first glance, it looked like any other old note that got passed around his classroom. Some sort of little quiz that some student had come up with. Yes, he knew that mathematics wasn’t the most interesting subject for a lot of these kids, but was his class really that boring that someone had time to come up with an entire twenty-question quiz to pass around?

There was a short message at the top of the note:

To my new friend,

You had a long day dealing with all of those students. Here's a game to amuse yourself into. Have fun! I know I did!

From,

Your new friend.

Mr. Dodds found it strange that the note referenced his day at school dealing with students. There weren’t any other instructions other than to answer the questions as truthfully as possible, and that “something bad” would happen if he didn’t complete the entire thing tonight. He chuckled when he read the title of the quiz.

"If You Were The Perfect Guy... Questionnaire."

“What will these kids think of next?” he said to himself.

Still, being a lonely bachelor at home on a Monday night with no other plans, he found himself cracking open a beer and sitting down at the kitchen table with a pen in hand

The Perfect Guy, Chapter One.

By Erick S.

"Wake up!" Andrew Jenkins heard his mom calling from downstairs. His alarm hadn’t even gone off yet. Or maybe he’d slept through it again.

He replied by rolling over and refusing to budge from the blankets. Finally, he decided to open his eyes and get out of bed. It was Monday, a brand new week of school, and a brand new week of torture planned out by the teachers, or the students.

Before long, he was off to school, backpack in hand and ready to go to his first class.

His day started out with math, the most boring class of all. His teacher was droning on and on about some formula that he didn’t understand, and couldn’t imagine ever using anywhere outside of this stupid class. The teacher, Mr. Dodds, was an old bald guy who had been around for years. But that didn’t make him any more interesting.

He stared around the room, and out the window, hoping the torture would end, or that something interesting would catch his eye. No luck, as he still had another hour.

"I wish this class would become more interesting..." he muttered under his breath.

He decided to waste his time by staring at the teacher pretending to listen, when suddenly, a neatly-folded piece of paper dropped in front of him. He turned slightly, faking a stretch, and looked for the person that sent it. The rest of the class looked just as bored as he was. None of them even looked at him or showed that they sent a note.

Carefully, he unfolded the note and began to read it.

To my new friend,

You look so bored, just sitting there. Here's a game to amuse yourself into. Have fun! I know I did!

Your new friend.

He looked at the so called "game". All the instructions said was to answer the questions as truthfully as possible. If you stop or don't answer, something bad will happen... Good luck!

Andrew sighed, seeing there were still a lot of time left, and delved further into the note. The top read, "If You Were The Perfect Guy... Questionnaire." He looked down at the first question, only slightly weirded out.

Question 1: If you were the perfect guy... what would your handwriting be like?

“What a strange question,” Andrew thought, though he was always being told that his handwriting was messy.

He wrote down that his handwriting would be a little bit neater, and as he did so, his fingers gripped the pencil just a little bit more confidently, and he sat up a little straighter in his desk. As he completed writing the sentence, he took a quick second to look over what he had written and finished his thought with a neat period at the end. He moved on to the next question.

Question 2: If you were the perfect guy… what kind of music would you listen to?

Andrew paused for a second, thinking about the music he had on his phone. He’d been listening to a lot of Ariana Grande and, yes, a fair share Austin Mahone’s new album lately. Not that he thought there was anything wrong with that, but he always thought it would be cool if he knew a little bit more about what some of the other guys in his class were listening to, in case the subject ever came up.

“I’d still like pop music,” he wrote down, “But I’d also probably listen to a lot more country stuff, like Luke Bryan and Florida Georgia Line.”

In his pocket, his iPhone was busily building new playlists that would be more in line with what the other guys at his school were listening to. Suddenly, Andrew had “Country Girl (Shake It For Me)” stuck in his head. The next question was an easy one.

Erick Stratton: GOOD BOY

“Good boy,” I said, fully enjoying the show that Wyatt was putting on, “Now the right leg.”

He obediently shifted his weight and presented his right leg forward, flexing his powerful quads. Quads that had proven him equally valuable both on the football field and the wrestling mat.

“Now let me see those biceps again,” I encouraged him, “You’ve been working on them, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, Coach” he said, as if he was talking to one of his best friends, “Just like you told me to. Been hittin’ ‘em real hard. Tryin' some new stuff.”

The results of his hard work were apparent. Oh, to be a teenager with a body that was almost instantly responsive to a new workout routine. I smiled to myself as he continued to hold his double biceps pose, twisting and turning under the light to make sure I was getting a complete view of his progress.

“Good boy,” I told him, “You’ve been a very good boy. I think you’re ready now.”

“I am?” he said, with a light of excitement on his face.

Erick Stratton: GYM BUDDY

“Hey man, I hate to be that guy, but you could totally be working out with heavier weights.”

“Huh?” Jared removed his earbuds and turned his head to see a much smaller guy standing beside him.

“I mean, obviously, I’m the last guy who should be giving workout advice,” he stammered, “But look at you. You’re huge.”

“I’m Jared,” he said, extending his hand, “And I’m kind of new at all of this.”

“You’re joking,” the smaller guy laughed, “I’ve seen you in here tons of times before. Not to be weird, but you’ve kind of been an inspiration to me. I mean, I’d love to be your size. Sorry. I’m Mike.”

Jared smiled confidently. On his handsome face, it almost came across as a sneer.

“It’s just, I noticed the past couple of times you’ve been here, you’ve been working out with much lighter weights that usual,” Mike continued, “And not really doing your usual routines. Sorry. That really makes me sound like some sort of a stalker or something. It’s just, like I said, you’ve been kind of an inspiration to me, and maybe this is just part of your training or something? Working out with lighter weights and practicing form? Sorry, I really shouldn’t have said anything.”

Man in the Mirror

By Erick S.

The image was hazy at first, but if I squinted my eyes, I could see that the reflection in the mirror was someone else. Those surely couldn’t be my thick, sculpted pecs and biceps, and there was no way that was my six pack. I had been a skinny guy all my life, and I could never gain muscle like that, no matter how hard I tried. And, anyhow, I definitely wasn’t that tall, and my jaw was never that square. My face was average, at best, and didn’t even look anything like the handsome man that was reflected in front of me. But the more I squinted, the more that image of myself came into focus. I reached out to the mirror and my reflection did the same. It was like watching some muscular hunk perfectly imitating my every move.

The mirror shimmered and I pulled my hand away, but the image was perfectly clear now. I looked down at myself and saw that I was that hunk in the mirror. The reflection was me. I gave my muscles a flex like I had been doing it for years, and memories flooded into my mind of all the time I’d spent in the gym, the weekends I’d spent doing photo shoots for fitness magazines. This was me, and it always had been. The memory of that skinny, average guy who I used to be was becoming hazier and hazier.

Home Early

By Erick S.

“Oh. Peter,” said Jordan, “You’re home early.”

“My boss let us out early today,” I leaned against the counter and smiled with Peter’s handsome face, “I’ve got dinner started.”

I stepped over to Jordan and placed my arms around him before he could even take his jacket off. I had forgotten that he would be shorter than me now. It felt wonderful. I gave him a kiss. It was the first time I’d kissed another guy with a beard. I chuckled a bit to myself.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, “You’re acting strange.”

“I’m fine, babe,” I assured him, “I’m just glad you’re home. Go get ready for dinner. Want me to pour you a glass of champagne?”

“Champagne?” he said with a raised eyebrow, “Are we celebrating?”

“I just felt like bubbles tonight,” I said, brushing his beard with my hand, “God, you are so hot.”

I gave him another kiss and left him to get ready for dinner. Maybe I was being a little over the top, but finally being in Peter’s body, finally having Jordan as my partner, I could barely contain myself. As he left for the bedroom, I caught a reflection of my new face in the kitchen window. So handsome. No wonder Jordan was in love with him.

“In love with me,” I corrected myself.

“What did you say?” he called from the bedroom.

“Nothing, babe,” I said, giving my reflection another quick look and grin,  “Hurry up and get ready. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Erick Stratton: Perfect Body

I used to think Chase had the perfect body, but ever since I swapped with him, all I can think about is trying to make it better. I probably spend even more time in the gym than he did before, and the first thing I do after a workout is snap pics and pour over all of the the things I need to improve. When I’m not at the gym, I’m online looking up new workouts and diets and supplements to help sculpt every little muscle on my body. I don’t have time for anything else. I need to get bigger, more shredded. Compete in more shows. Get on a magazine cover.

All I wanted when I swapped with him was a hot body for the beach.

Erick Stratton: New Body

“Well… You got the new body you wanted.”

“Man, I dunno. I mean. You know? It’s different.”

“Yeah! A little! I mean. I think you look great.”

“Oh yeah?” Tony puffed up his chest and flexed a bicep, “Don’t think I look like too much of a thug or nothin’?”

“Whoa,” Jake felt himself turning red, “They didn’t give you a shirt or anything?”

“Naw. I guess this is what the guy was wearing when he came in and signed up. You think maybe we could head back to the apartment now?”

“Yeah,” said Jake, “Um. Do I still call you Tony?”

“Yeah. I’m still Tony. I’m still me. Just with a new body. A’ight? We good?”

“Wow. Even the way you talk,” said Jake, “It’s so different. I mean. It’s just going to take a little getting used to, that’s all.”

Erick Stratton: Mr Walters

This summer was amazing. All the weekends at the beach. The parties. The girls. Building my body at the gym with my bros. It sucks that next week we’ll all be back in school. Only I won’t be one of them any more. It’s back to being old Mr. Walters. Teaching math. Going home at the end of the day and seeing that tired face in the mirror once again. Until next summer when I can take over another student’s body.

Next summer can’t come soon enough.

Erick Stratton: Work Out

I used to work out for the same reason a lot of gay guys do, I guess; to fill out a tank top and to look cute at the beach. Just enough to keep up a decent six pack, a toned chest and arms. But now that I’m in my little bro’s body, I gotta say it feels pretty great to be working out for an actual reason. To improve my performance on the field. To make Coach proud. To be bigger than the other guys on the team. To get more chicks. And, yeah, I still look pretty fuckin’ good in a tank top.

Erick Stratton: Masculinity in a Bottle

“Masculinity in a Bottle” is how it was sold to me in that strange new shop in the mall. And, at 5’6” with a slight build, no muscle and no body hair to speak of, I figured I could spare the $35, if only to humour the strange old man who was running the shop. I did as he instructed and mixed the small vial with a glass of water before bed. I woke up like this. With muscles. And chest hair. And a beard. For the first time in my life, an actual beard. Everything about me was bigger, stronger, tougher. Whatever was in that vial, I had to have more. The funny thing is, when I went back to the mall, the shop wasn’t there any more. In fact, it was like it hadn’t even been there in the first place.

Erick Stratton: Twins

"Fuck. We're gonna make a killing. Look at these shots. We look amazing."

“You were right. We look fucking hot as twins. I mean, obviously I look a little bit hotter --”

“Shut the fuck up!” Josh laughed, “You know I made these suits look exactly the same.”

“Yeah, I guess I just know how to work mine better. That’s all.”

“You’re so stupid,” Josh smiled, and gave his boyfriend a loving kiss on the lips.

“You know we gotta be careful with that. Now that we’re ‘brothers.’”

“So what?” said Josh, “Hot twin brothers who happen to make out with each other? Like I said, we’re gonna make a killing.”

Erick Stratton: We Need to Talk

“We need to talk,” Jay said when I came up the stairs.

I instantly remembered. My computer. I’d left it open. My heart sank.

“Jay, I can explain --”

“You’re into body swapping?” He asked, “You’ve got a lot of stuff about it saved on your computer.”

Oh, god. How was I going to explain that.

“So, you get turned on when guys can change themselves?” he continued, “Make themselves look like someone else?”

I stammered for a response.

“Like this?” he asked.

His body shimmered before my eyes and reconfigured itself into the exact image of Jake Bass.

“You had a lot of pictures of him saved, too,” he said with Jake's cute halfway grin.

“Jay?” I reached out to touch him. He quickly shifted back to himself, “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, now taking the form of a big muscle daddy. He must have seen that folder on my computer as well, “Let’s have some fun first, and we can talk about it later.”

I placed my hands on his large, hairy chest. I couldn’t quite believe myself, but it was all 100% real.

“I can change you, too,” he whispered.

I looked down to see my body covered in muscles and blonde fur. Our beards bristled against each other as we kissed. I knew I was in love.

Erick Stratton: Possessing Jeff

I could have stayed there looking at Jeff’s perfect body all day if only his girlfriend hadn’t walked in. I had to act quicker than I’d wanted, pushing myself into Jeff’s body and re-animating him. I took a few heavy breaths with his athletic lungs. She couldn’t believe what she’d seen. Good thing is, no one else would believe her either.

“Why don’t you pack up anything you have here and take it home with you?” I suggested as I watched her eyes glaze over, “When you get home, you’ll take a nap, and when you wake up, you won’t remember any of this. Jeff Munzig is not your boyfriend, and never was. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she repeated in a monotone, “I understand.”

“Good girl.”

I watched her gather her few things and walk out the door in a daze. She’d be fine. I continued on with Jeff’s usual after-workout routine. Protein shake, supplements, and a shower. I couldn't wait for the shower.

Erick Stratton: Welcome Home

I wasted no time when I walked in the door. I threw my bag down, dropped my keys on the counter, and began to undress him.

"Welcome home, babe," he said with the slightest hint of a Hispanic accent.

“I’ve been waiting to come home to this all day,” I said between kisses.

“I know,” he said, “Do you like it?”

He got off of the counter and gave me a slow, tantalizing turn. He knew this was the kind of body that did it for me. Tight, toned, perfect amount of body hair. Perfect ass.

“It’s exactly what I wanted,” I bit my lip.

“Good,” he said with an irresistible smile, “I was thinking about keeping this one for a while.”

Erick Stratton: JOCK BODY

 

Mom and Dad will never find out that I’m making Ryan swap with me on the weekends, and they'd never guess that I’m using his body to work as a go-go boy at the gay clubs in the city. These guys all drool over my brother’s hot jock body and I probably make more money than all of the other dancers combined. He made me promise not to hook up with anybody while I’m in his body, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. For the right price, I’ll take you in the back room and let you live out all the jock fantasies you’ve ever wanted.

Erick Stratton: Undress

I get home from work and pour myself a glass of whiskey. I finish the whole thing and pour another. I take it with me into the bathroom. I loosen my tie, unbutton my shirt, drop my pants. I stretch my shoulders and start feeling for the seam along the back of my neck. I work my fingers in between it and start to roll the muscle suit down my body. The heavy pecs, the chiselled abs, the thick legs all fold in on themselves as I step out of it and carefully hang it up. The facemask is last. I start to peel it off. It stings. I take another sip of whiskey and pull it firmly over my head. I look at my own face in the mirror and then down at the handsome face in my hands. One day I will learn how to become him permanently.

Sleepover

by Erick S.

“Well I guess we’re finally going to find out who’s boyfriend has the biggest cock!” said Emily, grabbing a hold of the bulge in her pink pajama bottoms.

“Ewwww!” said Megan, “That feels so weird! Well I know my boyfriend has the biggest muscles!”

She proudly puffed out her chest and flexed her biceps. She threw on a Yankees cap he’d left at her house a couple of weekends ago and flipped it to the side.

“Come on, Jess,” she said, “Let’s see what Bradley’s hiding under that shirt!”

“Uh... don’t you think that’s kind of weird?” Jess said, “Like, walking around with our shirts off?”

“We’re boys now, duh!” said Emily, “Come on, take it off!”

The girls practically ripped the shirt off of Jess in a fit of giggles.

“Ohh,” they drooled, “Looks like all that training he’s been doing for baseball’s been doing him some good. God, Jess. He is so cute!”

“Yeah,” said Jess, looking down at her flat, exposed chest, and trying to give it a flex, “I guess he’ll do!”

“Oh my god, you guys,” said Emily, “This has been the best sleepover ever! Emily, you’ve got to get more of this body swap stuff so we can start planning who we’re going to be next weekend!”