“The Statement of X--- Y--- Z---" Part 7

by Seuzz

From this point on, you can't expect a detailed recital of my history. I told you, I've been doing this regularly for thirty years or so. I can give you case studies, particularly interesting things I've done, but not a historical progression. I've only been able to tell you about certain cases so far because they were first times. You always remember a first time. I could tell you about the first time I crawled a girl, for instance--

Yeah, I've crawled girls. It's never been a major point. Only as a means to an end.

Well, I'm just not interested in them. Except, of course, sexually.

You totally misunderstand the point, and what's so hard about it? I like being a guy, but that doesn't mean I want to have sex with guys. Same thing: I like having sex with girls. That doesn't mean I want to be one.

Yeah, I've had sex with guys, while being a guy. I've played the faggot, been a faggot. I could tell you about the first time I did that, too. Which do you want, my first time as a woman or my first time as a faggot?

You and Yogi Berra. Alright. I'll tell you about the girl first.

It was while I was still at the university, the first time I did my thing at a college setting. I've been back to them. They're easy hunting grounds. But this was during my first time, after I first arrived and was finding my feet.

I had been skipping around from body to body, host to host. Like I told you last time, I'd decided I didn't want to stay in one place long. The first-- I dunno, first dozen or so times-- It was all a variation on what I did when I changed out of Peter. I found guys I could share a bedroom with. This meant I limited myself to fraternity guys, guys who shared houses. It had to be places where I could crash in someone's room without raising any kind of suspicion or alarm. So I also kept to guys who partied, who got drunk and passed out a lot. Or I took them on benders. A lot of the guys I crawled wound up having academic problems while I was in them. They stopped studying or going to class, did a lot of partying. So, I'd crawl a guy who had a roommate, and then in the middle of the night I'd switch places. Or I'd go out and get drunk, stumble home, and "accidentally" go into the wrong bedroom and pass out on the floor. Do a switch after that.

It worked. It always worked. But I decided I needed to develop some new techniques. You know, just in case. I decided girls might be a useful conduit. If I was a girl I could find a guy--almost any guy--and go home with him or take him home, and after he was snoring in my ear I could switch places with him.

I wasn't sure I could crawl a girl, actually. Maybe there'd be biological or chemical differences, so I had to be careful. I chose my male disguise carefully, went for a real jerk. Big guy, body builder. Mmph, no, I don't remember his name. Anyway. Proto-Schwarzenegger. Real skeezy. That's because I wanted it plausible when I proposed a three-way with a girl.

I spent a few days as him, having fun. Picking up heavy things and putting them down again. It was educational, too. There were lots of chemicals being traded around and taken in back rooms, back corridors. I took notes, because I saw that could be useful avenue too. Get a guy alone, stick him with a needle full of something that wasn't what he was expecting, and while he was out or in a daze crawl out of my old shell and into a new one. But I tried the girl thing first.

One Friday night, not long after, I went to a bar. Kept mostly to beer, kept mostly sober. Chatted up girls. Got close and breathed on them, let them feel my biceps. Let them get excited. Then I'd lean in and suggest we go off someplace. They'd be willing, and then I'd drop the next suggestion. Told them I had a friend who'd like to go along too, have fun, just the three of us. First couple of girls didn't like the idea, and I backed off when I couldn't talk them around.

Because I didn't want them excited when another guy showed up. See, my plan was that after I got them alone and had some fun, I'd retreat to the bathroom, crawl out of my host, and then go into the bedroom as his "friend" and crawl the girl. So, finally I found a girl who was willing. Her name was Marcy. Skinny thing with long hair, wearing practically nothing. She was all into the idea, especially when I told her my friend was a big guy like me. Oh, that turned her on. I draped a meaty arm around her--she fit in the crook of my arm like a broomstick--and led her back to my place.

I had lots of fun with her first. I didn't want the opportunity to go to waste, and I was getting kind of nervous about whether I'd be able to pull off the switch. Eventually she asked where my friend was. I snickered and said I'd go get him, and left for the bathroom.

That was the terrifying moment, in the bathroom. My host was a big guy, a really big guy, you understand. I looked at myself in the mirror. Chest looked like I had Volkswagen bugs implanted in them. I got scared. What if he didn't pass out when I crawled out of him? What if he came to too quickly, caught me with Marcy? What would he say or do when he came back into the bedroom? I almost chickened out. But I went through with it. Lay down in the bathtub and let go of him. It was hard coming out. He was thick, there was a lot of him, and it was like swimming to the top of quicksand. I saw it was a mistake to have gotten into the tub when I finally got out of him. Instead of quietly rolling off him I had to step on him to get over the edge of the tub. Lucky thing he was out cold, didn't even grunt or anything as I clambered out. But I turned out the light quick and then scampered into the bedroom.

The lights were out there, too, and I opened and shut the door quickly so she wouldn't catch sight of me. She was restless. I heard her sit up. "Are you Andrew's--" Yeah, that was his name, Andrew. "Are you Andrew's friend?" Breathless and giggly like. "Yeah. You're Marcy?" I said. She giggled again. I jumped onto the bed, onto her. I felt her hands on me, and she made a little pouting noise. I could tell she was disappointed in me. Whatever. I put my hands on her face and pushed down.

No resistance. It was like falling through a trapdoor. Came out the other side real fast, too. Jumped up with a little start. I remember I hiccupped, which was odd. Put my hand to my mouth, felt my hair falling across my face. Then reached down to touch my breasts. Small things, almost nonexistent. What's the old joke about the guy whose chest is bigger than the girl's? Andrew's nipples were almost bigger than her whole breasts. Felt down a little further to the hot, furry bit.

I thought I'd be more excited. I told you, I like girls. Here I was inside one, could touch her--touch me--all I wanted, feel it from the inside. But it was ... nothing, really. It was like getting a toy you always wanted and discovering it's just a hunk of plastic or metal. It's all in the imagination, you know, a toy. It's what you make of it, not what it is. And being a girl, finally, having the breasts and the pussy... Well, there was no imagination to go with it. So it was just skin.

That's a good question, but again I think it comes back to imagination. I'm a guy, I have a guy's brain and instincts. I can imagine being a guy, I have the feeling of being a guy, and I can have the imaginative feel of being that guy, or that guy, or that guy over there. I get inside them, and it's like a toy I can play with and have fun with, because it's got an imaginative hold on me. Not with a girl, though. No.

Yeah, I had her brain and so I had her imagination. I could impersonate her perfectly. But she couldn't imagine being herself, because she was herself. And there was no surprise or thrill in touching herself, because she was the one doing it. It was just stimulation. Oh, don't get me wrong, the stimulations worked just fine. I was in her for a few days, and I, uh, stimulated her a few times. But there was no thrill over and above what she herself would have felt.

Well, what happened next was that I thought about leaving, before Andrew got back, because I didn't know what he'd do. But then I thought that might also look weird. So I waited. Almost twenty minutes. But he came back in, eventually. I asked where he'd gone. He just grunted. I asked him about his "friend," and he didn't say anything. I tried kissing him and caressing him, to make it look convincing, but he just turned his back on me. I'm doubt he suspected anything. He would have been more violent if he had. I think he was just confused. Probably scared, too. It was the typical reaction I'd noticed. Guys get quiet after I leave them. They look furtive, for a day or two, at least.

If you want me to get to the end of these stories, you should stop trying to send me off on tangents. Later on I can tell you about the times I've crawled back into old victims. There are stories to tell there. But about Marcy.

Yeah, so I waited until he'd gone to sleep, and then I crept out of bed and got dressed and went home. She was in a sorority. I got some sleep. Next day I played the part of her perfectly. The other girls were kind of mean. They knew I'd--she'd--gone off for a three-way, and were snotty about it. I told them it had just been me and Andrew, but that didn't make a difference. What she wanted, not what she got, was what counted.

She had a journal. I copied out some passages that might be useful, filled a few pages with notes of my own and ripped them out, to keep. Things like the names and details about some of the other girls. Research. Who I might profitably hit on when I got back into a guy. Who might be useful later on as conduits for getting into other guys. Who the sluts were, who could be counted on to go home with a guy, that kind of thing.

The following Friday I was back at a bar. I looked around out of curiosity, but Andrew wasn't there. I let a guy buy me a drink. Went home with him. End of the story comes when I crawled out of Marcy and took him. She was in a daze afterward, and let me spend the rest of the night ravishing her in all kinds of ways.

No, I think that's all for now. I'll tell you about my first trip to Queensland next time.

Protection

by Slick Psych

“Perfect,” I thought. Jaun was passed out on the bed asleep. “Now is my chance to move.”

Juan and I had been college roommates about a decade ago. He was the charismatic and amiable guy, able to befriend anyone due to his penchant for fun and seemingly facile prowess at making people feel at ease. I had always admired him. It’s like nothing in the world could ever seriously stress him out. We remained roommates thru our first two years at State; then, he had to drop out and use his tuition money to help support his extended family as they crossed the border and started new lives here in America. We kept in touch as I finished University; and though it was obvious that his unexpected responsibilities had definitely sobered him and demonstrated that the cruelty of our fellow man can at times outshine the most noble of sacrifices, he was still that sanguine friend who I loved.

Months transformed to years and after a string of small jobs, internships and further schooling, I finally achieved my professional ambition and became the Regional Director at a burgeoning small machines corporation based in Texas. Juan and I stayed in contact – because he was a true friend. Now, because I’m a good guy (I’d like to think), I felt as though his good deeds should also be returned in kind. So, after finishing University, I began to send him a humble fraction of my earnings.  At first, he resisted and would send the money straight back to me. Knowing that persistent insistence would eventually change his mind, I kept sending. Slowly, my weekly gifts of $10 dollars turned to $20. Then $30. This exponential growth was likely a non-verbal indicator to Juan that I was doing ok and that I wanted him to have the money that I sent to him. He tracked me down online, and after he received the money, he would Skype me to tell me how he planned to spend it. The man operated on nothing less than supreme integrity.

Our internet chats and calls became weekly for about four years straight. He became my confidant, and I his. I shared with him my romantic disappointments, my numerous frustrations, my jokes, and my few moments of ephemeral serenity. And he to me gave his emotions, thoughts, and musings. Since his family was socially conservative due to their “need” to assimilate to America, he had his reservations about being a gay male. Since I grew up in fairly comfortable and safe surroundings with full familial support, I had virtually with no reservations about expressing that part of me – save the typical ones, I suppose. I frequently invited him to stay with me and live a comfortable life – one free of his responsibilities and stresses. I wanted him to fall in love with me. I desired for him to let me be his protector and his savior. Since I am a straight-shooter, I told him this as soon as I realized it. He smiled, kissed  quickly me on the lips, and assured me that he was strong enough to take care of himself.  Juan never thought about the future, and after he denied me I slowly realized that it wasn’t because he was a carefree soul.

For the next five years, as I climbed the professional ladder and he continued to struggle with his growing familial responsibilities, we maintained a sort of long distance friendship. Knowing that I was in love with him kept him slightly emotionally distant; and I found that he once again started to refuse my financial assistance at times. I assured him that I had no need for the money and that if he were my partner, as I had fantasized him to be, he would receive that and then more. I even told him that what I sent to him was meant to keep me from idling the money away on frivolous things like sex for pay or capricious stocks that I knew had no merit. But our emotional needs were so intertwined that we never drifted far apart even in our different opinions on things. So, I hit him where I knew he couldn’t refuse: week-long retreats once every six months or so. The man was constantly tired, and I knew that these escapes were what he always looked forward to the most… I always thought that it is such a shame: if he could only be with me, his life would be so much better. I was jealous that I could not have him all the time; soon, I realized that I was obsessed with Juan and that I just didn’t want to have him…

I wanted to be in him. I wanted One flesh, One mind, One entity. We never had sex, and I wondered if this was just my way of coping with intense physical desire that were unfulfilled. It made no sense that we kept ourselves from embracing each other; we had such a fulfilling emotional and spiritual connection that was arguably sweeter than any salty white substance that came from a penis. Still, physical intimacy would be icing on the cake – literally. I wanted it badly; and if I couldn’t get it from him, I figured that I could get it in him.  

 I gathered myself mentally as he slept there on my bed in his white Polo shorts. I looked at his smooth brown chest and large maroon nipples that rest on his meaty pectorals. I love the arched position that his leg and thighs take when he lays down for a cat-nap. It’s almost as if he expects that he’ll get right back up. I sit on the edge of the bed and watch as his bushy caterpillar eyebrows furrow from the shaking. He’s a heavy sleeper because he’s so tired all the time. I take his left foot in my lap and begin massaging it. His toes are stubby with little black hairs on the tops of them. I rub my pale hand up and down his brown leg, admiring his strong calf muscles and the silky black furs that add a manly exquisiteness to his body. His left hand that lay straight out on the bed moves just a little, and I see his lips almost smile.

I begin to chant the spell. Quickly I feel my body evaporating, becoming gaseous and losing its finite space. Before my eyes dissolve, I see what appears to be every pore of Juan’s body enlarging as if to breathe me in.

I slowly open my eyes. I lift my tan left arm up to my face and use my right hand to rub the dark black hair on my arms. It feels so silky. My previous body had no hair on my arms, chest, or legs. This thought alone excites me and I feel my penis stir. Almost as if it were playing peek-a-boo, I see the beautiful light brown head of it poke out from my white shorts. Guess I go commando often. I reach down to tickle the head with my index finger and for the first time, I spoke using Juan’s voice. “Mis manos son grandes.” I was glad to see that I was using Spanish when I spoke to myself. My assimilation to this body’s personality and mannerisms will be flawless. “Bueno…” I say as I see some precum form on my beautiful cock head. I lower my arched leg and lay supine on the bed. I lift my right hand and just stare at it, flipping it thoughtfully in front of my face. I look at the thin lines on my palm, then the light black hairs that coat the backside of it. “En mi viejo cuerpo, el pelo se había visto un asco. Ahora, sólo se ve sexy.” (I think that hair on my former hands would’ve looked revolting). I notice that these fingers are stubbier and definitely belong to someone who uses his hands for manual work… unlike my previous ones. I use my right index finger and thumb to rub them over my goatee. Then I used my new middle finger to feel my thicker lips and soul patch under. “Mi dios! Soy Juan… mi amor.”

I pulled my back up and sat on my bed. I blinked a couple of times and raised my new hands up to my face and started feeling it. The bone structure was so foreign to me. I felt my thick, bushy eyebrows and the close cropped hairstyle that I was sporting. I reach towards my ears and feel the earing that I have in my right ear. It would never look good on my old body. I run my fingers down my legs letting the hairs bristle them and then I arrive at my feet. They’re about size 10 and a half and there’s more black hair on the toes and tops of my foot. Something about this skin complexion and hair make it look so much more debonair. I move my legs to the side of the bed and prepare to stand up for the first time. Standing up was enough of a rush to make my snake downstairs go completely hard. My body naturally saunters; it has a swagger about it that I could never have. It’s an unfeigned bravado that comes from complete confidence. I knew that I was slightly shorter than I had been. But 5’7” is still a comfortable height. I rub my pecs and abs, and walk into the bathroom.

I immediately turned on the shower to let it warm up while I explore my body. I drop my shorts to the floor and stood naked in front of my sink mirror. I consciously make a choice to speak aloud in English, just to hear my speaking voice in that language. I like how I have an accent.

I massage my dick with my right hand and step into the shower, letting the heat build my excitement. My memories are coming in and it feels like the more that I become Juan the more I know how to please this body. I realize that as I’m taking on his likes and his dislikes, I’m learning that he is curious about anal penetration. I laugh heartily because I always thought him to be the dominant one! I spit on my stubby middle finger and start to play with the hole in my butt. My other hand reaches around to my snake and I begin to stroke furiously. I find myself making such gruff bear noises and becoming instinctively more aggressive as I near my climax. Because the sensations are so new and I do not know how to tease myself fully yet, I juice my shower wall in less than two minutes. I smile and say in my thickly accented English: “I’m glad that you are so old-fashioned my friend. If you had played liberally with your toy here I wouldn’t have squirted out half a pint of leche now!” I use my fingers to taste it. I love my new taste.

I toweled off quickly and threw on a pair of boxer briefs. I stood in the bathroom mirror just admiring myself and thinking about my next steps. 

“Ok, amor, here’s where it becomes a matter of life and death,” I speak to myself in the mirror. I then say the rest in Spanish, to confirm and assure that what I proceed to say is true.

“You know that I don’t speak fluently like I am now, and I can’t thank you enough for this gift. And I mean that all around. The spell that I spoke while you slept merged me to your body. In all truth, I am you totally. Now that it’s been an hour, I have successfully absorbed all your personality and memories. It’s a special spell that can only be spoken one time per soul. Instead of the original soul leaving the body of the desired host, the new soul cohabits with the old one. What I propose is that you allow me to stay inside you. Forever. If you consent, you’ll find that we are already in Bill’s will. He left us his inheritance. That’s enough to put us through school while still supporting our family. And, with the knowledge I retained from Bill’s life, school will be a breeze. And so will finding a competitive salaried job.”

As the dominant soul in the relationship, I had control over the body’s movements. I closed my eyes to briefly let the original Juan speak. When the original Juan opened our eyes, our body posture shifted to someone who looked like he had been released after being held underwater. Our eyes widened, and the relaxed position that we had held transformed into one of discomfort and fear. He lashed out in our heavy English accent.

“You crazy muthafucker! You can’t just take over my body and my life! I never asked for this.” He started crying. 

I let him stay in control while he composed himself. After five minutes he lifted our red eyes up to the mirror and said: “You can’t be in me like this. You just can’t. I don’t want to share my life.”

I took control and continued.

“Why not? You love me, don’t you? And now you don’t have to face your family alone.” I took our eyes up to the mirror and made them exude the confidence that I had always imagined them to show. “Baby, I love you and now we can be together.” I moved in to the mirror and kissed my lips with passion. More passion than the peck I gave Bill the night he confessed his love to me.

I see that my eyes are not red anymore.

“I love us.” I say as I hold my hand up to pretty face, cupping my chin and examining my right and left profiles.

“Me amo.” I say as I use one of my beefy fingers to make circles around my dark nipples.

“And, I would never do anything to hurt me.” I say as I flex for the first time in my glorious Latin body.

I felt myself accept me. I pulled back and started into my eyes as I began to stroke my dick. I ran a hand over my body, worshipping myself.

Kurtis

by Gary Travis

Kurtis needed some help. He had his driving test in a week; there was no way he would pass with his current driving skills. However, he needed too for work

I offered him extra lessons but half way through the week, it was still obvious he wasn't going to pass.

That's when he told me his cars special features. Apparently it had a special device fitted to its front seats, electrical system and accessory socket. Its purpose was to prevent theft as it was programmed so that only Kurtis's body could start it. It wasn't just his DNA, the system knew his weight, height, body temperature, smell and the moistness of his hands and of course his DNA. This was to prevent people stealing the car by using his hands or finger print or eye pattern. All the aspects that it was programmed to read needed to match before the car would start, and once a month he needed to connect his finger into the accessory socket.

This feature allowed his body to age, but it reverted any negative changes that were made to his body such as weight gain or loss due to eating incorrectly, so he could generally eat as much as he liked and never worry. It didn't revert positive changes such as muscle gain, so he was allowed to beef himself up.

This unique feature had an interesting side effect however. Obviously, the car would change owners during the course of its life. So it needed to be able to be reprogrammed. Apparently it had been set up to reprogram the system to a new body, but a technically minded body switch enthusiast called Sean had changed the settings so that it could be used to switch bodies.

Apparently, if I sat in the drivers seat and he was in the passenger side, but not sat down then we both put for fingers in the socket, my body would be erased, and I would become a duplicate of him. I would still be me, but with his body. My body would never be able I return.

However, if we did the same whilst the car’s owner was sat in the passenger seat, our bodies would swap places and I would be forced to live his life until we swapped back, and he would live mine, it could then be reversed, if both parties wanted it.

Of course the first option worked for the driving test, but it would then mean one of us disappearing, more than likely myself. I would have to create a whole new life and identity. No real gain for myself.

The second option sounded the best as I would be able to use my 12 years of driving experience too pass the test as well as his knowledge needed for the test. Afterwards we could trade back.

I decided on a brief trial and Kurtis agreed. We decided on an hour, as Kurtis would be me and I would be him, an hour seemed right as he could take me for a driving lesson.

He got out of the driving seat, walked around the car, and opened my door on the passenger side. He gestured for me to me to get out of the car. He sat in the passenger seat and I walked around and sat in the drivers seat.

“I've never done this” he said.

“It's ok, I think... I've never done it before either.”

He turned a dial on the dashboard that was underneath a concealed panel it read On, Off, Settings, New, Trade Swap.

He turned it to swap. He handed me a plastic adapter from the glove box. It was black with a silver prong on the end. On the opposite end it had 2 finger shaped holes. He split it in half leaving the part with the metal prong part separate. He handed me one of the plastic finger shaped probes, he told me to put it on my left index finger. I examined it at first. Looking inside, there was a glass panel on the inside. I put my finger inside it. It was cold.

He had put his right index fingering the other. He reached over grappled my hand and attached the 2 probes together. Then placed those probes onto the final metal part of the device. He pulled my hand with his towards the accessory socket and I felt excited, nervous and powerless to stop him or it happening.

He pushed the device into the accessory socket.

My finger began to tingle and an electrical current spread around my body, I looked towards Kurtis, he looked towards me and smiled. I can only assume he was feeling the same.

I felt drained, yet charged and powerful but unable to move. I kind of knew what must have been happening but I didn't know if it was or not because I couldn't see my own body or his.

A few minutes later, I felt cold. Then I began to smell something different. It wasn't a good smell or a bad smell either, it was just different. I felt completely new sensations. Like being reborn I suppose. Then I felt cloth spreading across me. I began to feel warm again.

Suddenly, a large spark came from the accessory socket and forced the device to fling out of the socket, of course our fingers as well. We were finally able to move. I looked in the mirror. I had new eyes, a new hair style and a new face. It was a while since I had looked 18, now was 18 again. I looked down at my arms and hands. They were new too. I had lost about 12 years of age in a matter of minutes. I was horny. I looked down further. My clothes were different. I was getting a hard on. I looked over where Kurtis was sat in the passenger seat. He was having similar experiences, and examining his new body.

He looked thrilled.

“Wow” I said to him, “it worked.”

“Yep” he said, “I feel a bit weird, but this is cool.”

The smell I smelt was Kurtis, it was simply a smell I wasn't used to, his natural body odour was now mine, and I loved every part of Kurtis.

The dial had turned itself to on. I turned the key and started the car. The car had recognised me as the owner.

I spent my hour driving

I watched as Kurtis was feeling around his new body, touching places. Making sure it all worked I suppose.

I was unable to check myself out really, just glancing in the mirror every now and then, grinning. I felt completely different, obviously I was different... But the feelings were deep down, the thoughts in my mind. All the unknowns about Kurtis.

When did he have a shower?

When did he last have sex?

When did he last eat?

What did he last eat?

Is he allergic to anything?

When did he last go to the toilet?

What was his favourite colour?

Was he gay or straight?

what was his favourite food?

What would it be like to do all these things in his body?

What did he like to do in his spare time?

What size was his cock?

What size were his feet?

How much did he weigh?

How tall was he?

I would need to know all this when I chose to be him for the test, as I knew to pass it off I would need to know all kinds about him and would need to be him a few days before the actual test. But for now I kept quiet.

The hour was over. I pulled over in a secluded place.

“That's it Kurtis, hours over.” I said

“No prob” he said.

He got out of the car and we swapped seats. We did exactly the same thing and swapped back again. Kurtis was the first to speak after that.

“Erm” he said, “I really enjoyed that, I hope you will help me out with the test. We will need to swap tomorrow and learn each others lives if we are going to pull it off.”

“I really enjoyed it too,” I replied. More than I wanted him to know. So I said “I need to think about it and would confirm tomorrow after sleeping on it.”

He said “fair enough.”

I headed home, I didn't have a decision to make my mind was already made up. That night I couldn't sleep with excitement.

I rang him at 2 am and said “look Kurtis, sorry if I woke you up, but if we are going to swap, it has to be now while I have the nerve.”

“Ok” he said and I drove the 20 minute to his house. He still lived with his parents so didn't need an excuse as they were away anyway.

He was already in his car when I got there warming it up as it was a cold night. We drove a short distance to a more secluded place. We then swapped seats. We did the same with the device and our bodies swapped again exactly as they did before.

We drove back to his place where we fired questions at each other. All the ones I was thinking about plus more. To be honest I wanted him to take my body home, I was far more interested in his body than his life. But it was something we had to do. I still had 3 more days before the test and the ultimate switch back in which to explore and have fun.

Soon it was 7am. We needed to head to work. Luckily we both worked at the same place and drive in together.

“First day, new name, new body, new life” I said to him. “Hope we can pull it off”.

I still wasn't used to it. A new voice as well.

“Sure we can” he replied “it's only for a few days.”

My first day in work was a little strange, a new job new friends all completely different from my own.

I was desperate to go home just to see a little bit more of his body. I made an excuse that he as me had to go out tonight so after he dropped me off at home, he went home.

At that point I knew it was at least 36 hours since I had had a shower, I was beginning to feel a bit grubby and smell a bit. So I jumped in the shower.

The removal of clothes revealed an amazing body one to a standard I had never seen. Size 7 feet, his biggest toe was shorter than the next, smooth almost silky muscular legs. I had left my boxers on for now, but his torso was perfect, amazing abs gorgeous pecs. All complimented with a treasure trial of dark blonde hair from this bodies navel downwards. It had a beautiful golden tan. My new arms were average, but had enough muscle my, hands were fairly small but I had long fingers and bitten finger nails. My new face was fairly rounded, I now had blue eyes a beautiful smile. It had what can only be described as bum fluff as a moustache. I'd have to get rid of that. I had dark blond shaven hair.

I couldn't resist any longer and I reached to my waist band, I was already rock hard, I felt my new curved bubble bum. Curved just right for my size of hands. That was it the boxers came off.

"Wow!"

I almost fainted. The treasure trail certainly led to gold. I started to wank and as I was a typical horny teen I cummed in seconds. There was loads though, more than I had ever managed.

I needed to clean up so naturally that much needed shower came next. I got even more excited as I rubbed and lathered up my entire body. This was amazing I was so glad he picked me to teach him,

After having no sleep the night before, I was getting tired. It was only 8pm. I decided to order a takeaway pizza and it was delivered at 9. It was probably the first meal I had eaten as Kurtis, he never ate breakfast, and only snacked for lunch. I was starving and ate the lot. Pizza tasted so different, in fact as myself i generally don't like pizza. It was a bit of a boring night really as after my pizza, I went to bed.

The next morning I woke and I must of been having an amazing dream because I woke with a massive hard on. God I thought teen bodies are so easy to please! I didn't want to wank off. Kurtis had told me that Wednesday was the night he always spent with his girlfriend. So I wanted tonight to be special. A cold shower should get it under control. It didn't and I had to let it off in the shower.

Once I got to work, we spoke about our experiences briefed each other a little more. We were completely honest and it turned out he had a night very similar to mine.

I had a driving lesson that night and got home at 7. Showered, shaved, finally removing that bum fluff. Put on his best aftershave and headed to his wardrobe. Right impress his girl I thought.....

Jeans nice t shirt? That should be ok....

Not a chance, no jeans in his collection. There was about 20 designer track suits all must of been 100pound each. Then the shoe drawer, well actually, a specially adapted wardrobe full of trainers. There must of been £1000s worth in here. All lined up side by side, best at top the ones with a few scuffs at the bottom. Well trackies and trainers it is then...

Good job she liked what I chose as soon as she walked in I had a wonderful kiss.

I had made her most favourite meal, tagliatelle. First time Kurtis had made it from scratch apparently, as Sarah tells me it's loads better than a microwave meal. This kid has a lot to learn I thought to my self.

Good film and cuddles were next, and of course Kurtis's manhood made an appearance after she stripped me naked, she made me feel so good. She satisfied me about 4 times before I managed to satisfy her, but we both enjoyed it.

The next day was just normal and the evening was pure driving, making sure I had learnt all the new rules of a driving test. And getting rid of a few bad habits.

Friday, test day. My instructor was with me, myself was with me lol. I needed him to get me to the test centre as I wasn't insured without him.

Naturally, there were a few hairy moments. But I did pass for Kurtis.

He thanked me, I thanked him and we drove back to his house via the secluded place where we swapped back.

I was gutted.

Weeks went by. I was thinking of asking him if he would let me have his body from time to time, but i decided it would be too complicated as we would never know enough about each other to get away with it.

Then out of the blue, my phone rang, it was Kurtis.

“We need to talk” he said.

“No worries” I said and I drove to his house.

“What's up” I asked.

“Sarah is pregnant. I can't deal with this, I don't want to be a dad, not yet I am too young.” He told me.

“Ok” I said, “why are you telling me?”

“Because it wasn't me that got her pregnant i have always used protection.” Kurtis replied

“This is big Kurtis,” naivety got the better of me, “are you ok, has she told you who it was.” I asked.

“I know who it was I trust her and know she hasn't been with anyone else.” He replied.

“So how is she pregnant if it wasn't you or anyone else.” I said

“Because it was you, she is 4 weeks, you were me 4 weeks ago. I can't have a baby, I'm not mature enough he said, but you are, you could be the baby's dad.” He suggested

“Wait just a minute, I'm not you anymore...” I exclaimed

“Be me then! I enjoyed being you, the older more mature guy. I know you enjoyed being me too. That much is obvious from Sarah...” he said

“This is big, what you are offering is something I would love to accept, but we couldn't pull off being each other without knowing EVERYTHING about each other.” I said

“I can fix that,” he said, “the settings switch in the car brings up another screen. We can change the settings so that our bodies swap and our minds merge so we know everything.” He replied.

“Well in that case I accept. But why didn't you use this last time?” I asked.

“I was worried you wouldn't want to swap back.” He said.

“Fair enough” I said. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry” he said, “I kind of wanted this myself”

We headed to his car, he drove to the secluded place. He turned the dial to settings and changed is mode to body swap, mind merge and life exchange.

We placed the device on our fingers and it happened exactly the same way as before except his time we also had a massive headache.

The headache was caused by the flood of knowledge now entering our heads.

The swap took a little longer this time.

“How can I thank you” I asked.

“Now I am you, I think you know how...” he said

A grin on my face I pulled down my trackies and let him play and suck.

“Once a week” he said.

“No Worries” I said.

I'm 19 now and it's almost a year since the trade. I have never been happier, a gorgeous girl, a baby daughter, nice house and weekly on demand blow jobs from my old body... I even bought a pair of jeans. Bliss...

JarHead

from the Sean M. archive

I was a loner, I had no family but I had money; and it was true – money doesn’t buy happiness.

I had travelled the world learning from mystics from many different cultures, and I had found a way to make a new life for myself. All I had to do was to find the right “vessel”.

I remember the moment; I was on an internal fight when I saw this jock. He must of been about 23yrs and he looked like he was on leave with the rest of his “jarhead” buddies seated around him.

He turned and looked at me, and it was at this time I used the skills I had learnt. I looked him in the eyes, and time stood still for him. I looked deeper into his soul, images flashed through my mind. The parties he’d enjoyed; his time in the army and his life at home, I knew it was something I needed.

I took a couple of breaths and slipped out of the bonds of my own flesh and blood, and slipped into John. Only seconds had passed, but I had merged with John, in fact I was John. I blinked a couple of times and realised I was looking at my old body, I turned and looked back out of the window as we prepared to land.

Suddenly there was a scream from behind me, and a lot of attendants rushed over, I asked them what the problem was but I knew the answer already, a guy had died of a heart attack a few seats back.

I leaned back in my seat and pulled my sunglasses down knowing I’d made the right choice...

Taking Marco

by Brody

When I pushed into Marco I didn't think anyone would figure it out. I had been living his life for a good week already without anyone suspecting anything. It wasn't until his or should I say my best bud and I were hanging out drinking when I noticed Greg looking at me weird. I didn't know what he was thinking. Suddenly he just jumped up and grabbed me squeezing me with all his muscles.

“I know who you are and you are not Marco. Get out of his body.” Greg said squeezing me even harder. I couldn't take the pressure anymore and found myself being forced out of Marco in a smoke. His body goes limp in Greg’s' arms as I lose control. It was a good run but I knew I needed to find a new body and soon. I notice Greg is busy helping Marco.......well wish me luck as I try to take control.

After several minutes of fighting I finally got control of Greg. I knew it would be tough because he is a strong guy. I sit there catching my breath and getting use to Greg's form when Marco comes over to me.

“What the fuck man? Why did you force him out of me? We had planned this and I wanted him in me.” Marco said punching my jaw hard.

I rub my jaw. “Huh you wanted that fag inside you” I said trying to act like Greg.

Marco blushes. “Listen I haven't told anyone. I am gay man I just can't seem to deal with it. Having him in me was a way I could experience it without having to actually do the actions. He was the one doing them.”

“Oh wow” I said cracking a smile. “Want to try it being in full control now? I think you are ready” I grin to Marco with Greg's cocky grin.

“WTF no way. You took over Greg?” Marco says stunned but I could tell he liked it since his boxers were starting to tent now.

“Oh yeah I needed to go somewhere and Greg here seemed perfect once I got him under control. Now come here and show me all you learned from me” I grin undoing my jeans for Marco.

After hours of fun I grin at Marco. “So I think you are ready....I also think it is time for Greg here to come out as well. I feel like I am staying in here for quiet awhile” I say kissing Marco's forehead knowing he has never been happier than being with Greg.

“The Statement of X--- Y--- Z---" Part 6

by Seuzz

Heh. I don't want to start off being argumentative, but no, I wouldn't call my move into Peter the "start of my new life." You're moving to fast and making too many assumptions about what I wanted and why I was doing these things. Yes, when I crawled into Peter I had no intention of going back to my old life, and yes, by crawling into him I was crawling into a new life. It was the start of a "new life" in that sense, I'll grant you. But I wasn't planning on crawling out of him any time soon, and I wasn't planning on crawling lots of other people, if any. So, if by "new life" you mean it was the start of my life as a serial crawler, no, it wasn't. That came later.

Well, I had lots of reasons for not wanting to leave Peter. First of all, it hadn't really occurred to me that I could live as a serial crawler. I'd had problems enough getting into and out of people, thank you very much, so I just assumed that I'd have to stay in Peter for a very long time. Also, mostly I was looking for a better life, and in Peter I'd found one. Not just better, it was itself a good life. He had a solid family. His father owned a small but successful business. He had a good mother and some younger siblings. He had a good body, a good-looking body, and he was, um, socially adept. He had friends, and he made friends easily. He had fun, playing sports and socializing with his circle. He had prospects. I was inside him by the time it came to seriously start applying to colleges, and we, or I, managed to get into the state university. He was going to go off to that school with his girlfriend, and we were already talking about getting married and starting a family. It was everything I didn't have, everything that you were supposed to want. Why would I want to change?

So I stayed in him, a little bit out of fear of not being able to get into anyone else if I left him, I'll admit, but mostly because I thought I had arrived.

Yes, I was looking for fun, and he had fun, in his way. The kind of fun I'd witnessed from afar in school, and the kind I'd been jealous to have. Sports, popularity, friends. We did have some new experiences together. Not long after graduation I took off with some of his friends. We were supposed to drive out to Omaha, to find some digs, but after we got out of town we took a long detour and wound up down at the beaches in Texas. Spent a week down there, living on the beach, playing on the beach in only our t-shirts and swimming trunks. We ditched the former during the day while we played football, flashing our young and healthy torsos for the benefit of the girls. I hooked up with a couple of them, even--a new experience for me and Peter both. We drove back up to Nebraska with some great memories and a nice tan.

In the middle of the summer I drove back to Omaha with my dad and got a spot in the dorms. Bought some necessities, and a few weeks later moved in. I drove around town, finding the bars and the hang outs. Christie followed soon after, so I didn't have a chance to play around any more. I tried out for the football team and got a spot, but it was clear I wasn't going to be a star. That's okay. We loved to play the game, Peter and me. We worked out and practiced on the field and made new friends. Classes started, and I buckled down to study. I joined a fraternity, and was invited to move into the frat house at the start of the spring semester. New friends, popular friends there. Christie and I stayed serious, but there was a bit of a drift. I found myself looking at the other girls and wondering if I should settle down so soon with one girl, with her. The trip down to Texas had whetted my appetite, and I cheated on her more than a few times. We had fights and then we had makeup sex. Christie was cute, but not so cute as to think that she could just hang onto me without any effort. The other guys made sure to remind me that I could do better than her.

Yeah, but I didn't think this kind of thing was out of the ordinary. A lot of my friends were going through the same thing, so I figured it was part of being a healthy, normal, college-age guy. And I saw enough other guys who were in worse shape. Small guys, thin guys, fat guys, guys who didn't have the advantages I had with Peter. So I had no desire to change. Oh, every once in a while I'd catch myself eyeing one of the other guys speculatively. Someone would have a hot girlfriend for awhile. Someone else would be hooking up with lots of girls. Someone would have more spending money or would be getting better grades. There were, of course, guys on the football team or on the basketball team who were better than me and got a lot more attention. But no one had a life that was clearly or solidly better than Peter's, and it seemed that if I made an exchange I'd simply be trading one set of advantages and disadvantages for a different set.

What happened was that the ceiling fell in on his life. His mom died.

It happened during my second semester, during the spring. I'd been Peter for a year, had grown totally comfortable as him. And his mother was a good woman, so it was a real shock to me. To both of us, though I wasn't always clear in my own head how much of our life was mine because I was Peter and how much of it was me just pretending being Peter. But it was a bad shock, and worse followed.

I was at school when one of his uncles called. That by itself was a bad sign. She'd had a heart attack, sudden and fatal. She wasn't an old woman, so it was surprise. I went home, of course, and found an ugly scene.

Peter's dad had gone to pieces. I got home and found that my-- his-- brother and sister, who were a few years younger than Peter, had left to stay with relatives. His dad was by himself, and when I found him he was drunk. He had never been a serious drinker, that I knew of, and I found him in the den, just sitting, unmoving. He wouldn't talk, wouldn't stir, just stared at the TV set, which was off, holding a whiskey bottle. There was a bad odor in the house. Not literally, but the air was still, and felt and smelled defeated, as though some spark had left it. I had to leave him as he was, in his recliner, seeing nothing and feeling nothing but death around him, and went to find that uncle. He was grim. He knew what was going on in that house, but had nothing to say about it. I had to go home, to more silence.

A day or two passed, and Peter's dad showed no sign of coming to life. The funeral home called to make arrangements, and he mulishly refused to acknowledge me when I went to find him. I had to talk to them, and wound up having to take over all the planning. I had no idea what to do, and that uncle had to leave town himself on other business. It all fell onto me--the coffin, the service, the minister. I agreed to everything they put in front of me. Peter's dad came to life briefly when he found me at the dining room table, looking numbly over the paperwork. He got pissed because he saw it was going to be expensive. We had a horrible fight.

He skipped the funeral, if you can believe it. I started dreading it when I had to leave the house, not knowing what I'd find when I came home--another dead parent, maybe. I hid the shotguns, but there are a lot of ways of doing oneself in.

And then there was the stuff afterwards. The insurance, the finances. She'd had her own money, a good bit of it she'd squirreled away out of her household allowance and from her own side businesses in baking and hair-dressing. She'd invested it, and done well with it over the years, so there was a broker and some lawyers to deal with. I found out all that myself, often in unpleasant ways.

I-- or Peter-- both us, I guess, lost all respect for his dad. I had to take over his business, long enough to furlough his employees, and had to tell them I didn't know if the business would resume. There were some half-completed projects--he did plumbing and electrical work--and not all of the customers were happy. I had to run interference, because there was no way I could expose them to Peter's dad, or him to them.

I got things into some kind of stable pattern long enough that I could return to the school. It was supposed to be a break from the shit back home, but it was worse, because I didn't have anything to distract me. I was in no shape to have a social life, and my friends were no help, because they kept partying and having fun with their normal lives. I couldn't sleep. I'd lay in bed, waiting for my roommate to come back, often with a date, so I'd have to move out into the common room. Things had gone south with Christie before Peter's mom died, and though we didn't break up, we were strained, and we didn't have fun with each other. She tried being good with me, but I was in no mood for it.

The breaking point came one night as I stared at the dark ceiling. Suddenly, I just wanted to crawl out of my skin. Peter did too. The difference was that crawling out of his skin was something I could do. Problem was, I'd been in him long enough that I had a hard time separating my feelings from his, and to give up on him in this crisis seemed like a terrible dereliction. An abandonment. But then it occurred to me that I couldn't do anything for him anyway. I had no strength or knowledge that he didn't. I didn't add anything to our partnership. He'd be no worse if I left him. And once I realized that, I couldn't get out of him fast enough.

Still, I knew that a change would have to be arranged. I couldn't just lunge from him.

I had to wait a day or two, a very tense time. Then one night I invited my roommate out to a bar. Supposedly just to hang out, but it was to get him drunk. I bought him round after round while keeping myself relatively sober. He got smashed, which wasn't unusual for him. I had to deflect him from the girls in the bar. It was touch and go for a bit--we almost came to blows a few times--but I steered him out of the bar, half carrying him, and got him home and into our bedroom, where I threw him onto the bed. Pulled his shoes and socks and pants off, turned him onto his back. He mumbled and grumbled and scratched at himself. He was a disgusting sight--filmy with perspiration and cigarette smoke and banked testosterone, and I don't think he'd showered that morning. Not an appetizing destination, but the only one I could set up. I turned off the lights and sat on the edge of Peter's bed, waiting. Eventually his breathing turned heavy and then he began to snore, sawing heavily. I waited a bit, in case he woke up. After a very long time I decided it was safe. I lay back on Peter's bed, and for the first time it occurred to me that maybe I'd been in him too long, that I wouldn't be able to crawl out of him.

A baseless worry, as it happened. It was like turning loose, unhooking a grasp I didn't know I'd been exercising. I didn't so much crawl out of him as I let him expel me. It was like bobbing to the surface of a thick pool. I rolled over and fell off him, and onto the floor. I held my breath, worried I'd been too loud, but I heard nothing except his roommate snoring. I slid over to the other bed and gingerly raised myself onto it. I took one last glance back at Peter, but he was just a dark mass in the black room. I straddled my new body and put my hands onto his face and chest. It was going to be bad when I woke up, I was sure. I'd have a terrific hangover. Then I took a deep breath and pressed down onto him. I sank swiftly into him.

It was awful when I came to. I was sick and shaking, and I didn't dare move. My head was a tangle of thick wool and cotton, with someone softly beating it with a mallet. I huddled under the sheets and wondered what would happen if I hurled--would I come out of this new guy along with his last meal?

Finally I woke up enough that I could move around feebly. I looked over at the other bed. Peter was gone. Shakily, I pulled myself together and sat up. When I felt strong enough I staggered to my feet and wove my way out of the room and to the bathroom. I bumped into someone on the way; he said something and I mumbled something back. In the bathroom I crouched on the toilet, head down, getting myself together. It was cold, and that did me some good, so that I could stand up again. I went to the sink, ran some cold water, splashed myself in the face with it. Then looked in the mirror.

You'll notice I don't remember the name of the guy I'd crawled into. I wasn't in him long. But I remember the face. Dark hair, thick, standing up every which way. A few days growth of beard. He wasn't a sports player, just a fraternity punk, so I didn't have much mass under the t-shirt. Gingerly, I ran through what I now knew about him. Nothing, really. Just a nineteen-year-old jerk, off to school to party and get laid. I grinned. After the drama Peter had to deal with, that was all I wanted.

This, really, was the start of my new life, if you want to pin a date to it. I decided I wasn't going to deal with any shit. I wasn't even going to let shit get close to me. Peter had had a good life, and then shit came out of nowhere and hit him in the face. I decided I wasn't going to stay inside anyone long enough for shit to have a chance of getting itself together for a strike. Certainly I wasn't going to stay in this new guy long. I didn't even want to look at Peter anymore. Maybe I felt shame for running away from him. But that day, that morning, I decided, I was going to find myself someplace new. And someplace new after that. And someplace new after that.

Host with the most…

by MKrug

"Now, lets see which Hunk I will be today."

You were so lucky, you had won HGTV's newest contest. The contest said that you could be a host of a show, and you held them to their world.  Thankfully you knew a bit of black magic to possess people.

However, once you had one, you had to have all the others.You slowly entered each new host as they came along, planting a subconscious trigger for them to all be your servants and to willingly give themselves to you. Eventually, you had a whole harem of hot men that you could become, whenever the whimsy hit you.  All it took was one well planned call and a few moments before you were smiling in front of the cameras, helping out some  home-owner.

"Hmm, now I need to start working on some of those carpenters. Not as much time in the spotlight, but damn do they make shirts look good." you smiled and grinned to yourself as you started making the call.

The Magic Facebook App

by Scriptboy

Albert was the star soccer player at his high school, and today was another great day for a game. The weather was nice, there was no wind and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The sun was out and it wasn’t too warm or too cold. All the other players on the Tigers soccer team were there, dressed up in the usual uniform wearing black cleats, socks and shorts with yellow jerseys. They were playing the Rovers, who were dressed completely in red.

Albert raced down the field and stormed towards the Rovers’ goal. Chase kicked the ball nice and high towards him, just as Albert approached the goal line. The goalie wasn’t sure what Albert would do, and he just bounced on the toes, ready to jump in either direction, when Albert did the unexpected: Albert turned around, with his back facing the goal, just as the ball was hovering right above his head. Then, with amazing athleticism, he leaped into the air with great force, allowing his legs to shoot straight up as his head came down after his body spun around, effectively making his body spin upside-down in mid-air. Then, at the right moment, Albert’s right foot kicked the soccer ball into the goal at a hard, downward angle, completely catching the goalie off-guard! GOAL!

The crowd went crazy as Albert landed on his stomach. He quickly jumped to his feet to turn around, just in time to get mobbed by his jubilant teammates. He scored the first point of the match!

After the match was over, Albert wandered off the field, drinking from his water bottle, when he was greeted by a heavy set man wearing a button shirt and jeans. It was Tim, his math teacher, who worked at the school and loved to come watch his soccer games since Albert was in one of his classes.

“Good game, Albert! Congratulations!” Tim said to his student.

“Thanks, Mr. Stevens. I appreciate it!” he replied. “Can you give me a ride to my house?”

“Sure! No problem!” Tim said, as he led the soccer player to his nice Audi sedan.

“Wow… You got a nice car!” the boy said, as he got in the seat and fastened the seat belt.

“Thanks…” Tim smiled, as he started the car and slowly pulled out of the parking spot.

Albert came from a poor family where he lived with his parents and his younger, 10-year-old brother in a small apartment which was just a minute down the street from the school. Albert’s parents didn’t even have a car, so he just had to ride his bicycle to school every day. Albert didn’t mind it so much but sometimes he wished that things were better for him.

After Tim had dropped him off at his house, he went into his small bedroom, which he shared with his brother, and he logged on to his favourite website, which was Facebook.

While surfing around the Facebook website, Albert found several ads for cool new apps that he could try out and install on his own profile page. Everybody had heard of or installed the new Timeline app, and Farmville and City Ville and Castle Ville games and apps already, but he was searching for some totally new and exciting to experiment with. Then, he stumbled upon a page for a new software development company that had just released a beta version of a cool, new, magical app that allowed just about anyone to body swap anything they wanted with another Facebook user as long as that user was listed as one of their friends!

“What? Really? I want to try that!” Albert cheered, as he clicked on the “Install” link for the “Magic Facebook App” title just below the description. He just rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation of trying out this cool, new thing. Would this really work? There were already ten reviews out for the app and they all gave the app a cool 100% rating, so the app just had to be good!

Once installed, the app asked Albert for access to his own profile information, and he clicked on “Allow”.

Then, the app asked him to select one person from his “Friends” list to load their profile information. Albert scrolled down the list until he reached “Tim Stevens” and selected the check box to the left of his math teacher’s name. On the next screen, the app then loaded several items that Tim had mentioned on his profile that he owned, including his very cool Droid Ultimate cell phone, which was the latest of the latest type and model of Android cell phones that was out on the market today.

“Oh man! I hate my simple little cell phone! I would love to have Tim’s cell! Could this really work?” Albert wondered, as he clicked on the “swap” link.

Instantly, his cheap little cell phone, which lay on his desk before him, disappeared, and in his place, a big rectangular phone appeared, with the large flat screen and eight small buttons on the bottom and five buttons on the side. It also had a camera and speakers and wireless and all the other bells and whistles of a top-notch cell phone.

“Holy smoke! This thing totally works!” Albert cheered, as he picked up the ultra-cool cell phone, which showed Tim’s name and photo on it, along with all his contacts, phone numbers and email addresses. It also had all his chat histories and text messages in it as well.

“Awesome! This is like… I have total access to Tim’s accounts with this! I better install the Facebook app on here as well!” Albert cheered, as he loaded the small mobile web browser and navigated to the website to download and install the mobile version of the app for the smart phone. Within minutes, the app was downloaded and installed, and Albert was able to continue his quest for swapping more items of his with that of his math teacher, now just through his cool new smart phone!

And in the meantime, while Tim was at his house, looking at his math notes on his desk, he noticed that his cool smartphone had changed into a small, inexpensive phone. Where did that come from?

In the meantime, Albert studied the Facebook app and realized that if the app was sophisticated enough to swap cell phones, then he could also use it to swap other items as well! So, he used the app to zero in on other items that Tim had listed in his profile that he owned, and a long listing of things popped up since Tim was an avid Facebook user and he had posted quite a large album of pictures on his Facebook profile containing photos of his wife, his house, his car, his students at work, several rooms in his house, his swimming pool, his garage, his office, and more. The magic app registered all these items displayed in these photos and listed them all out in a separate window, where Albert could click on each item individually and pick and choose which item he wanted to swap, or select all items and swap everything all at once! Not only would the app allow Albert to select Tim’s material items, but his physical attributes as well!

“Gosh… Let’s try one thing at a time! First… it says here that Tim is married! So, he wears that nice little gold wedding ring around his finger… I would like to be married to his wife instead!” Albert smiled as he selected the wedding ring and clicked the “swap” button on the app on the phone’s screen.
Suddenly, a nice, golden ring appeared on Albert’s finger! The ring would have been too big for him, but it adjusted to fit around his finger so it fit him perfectly!

“Nice! Very, very nice! What else can I take?”

The app offered all kinds of material items, but it also listed some items that were not “material”, like some of Tim’s skills and experiences. One of them was Tim’s knowledge of mathematics, since Tim was the high school math teacher.

“I’m not so good at math… I hate math… so, let’s change that right now, if I’m going to become more and more like my math teacher anyway!” Albert laughed, as he selected “math knowledge” from the list and selected the “swap” button on the app.

For a brief moment, Albert became dizzy. His head was in a daze, then, he suddenly felt clear again. He blinked his eyes three times and looked straight ahead! He knew it! He knew math! He knew all of it! He knew it and he was very good at it! In fact, he knew it so well that he could teach class in it! Not only that, he could become a teacher in math if he even wanted to!

“Wow! This is getting better and better with every passing minute!” Albert laughed as he looked at the app screen on the smartphone.

Meanwhile, at his house, Tim was looking over his math notes for the next class, when he was struck by a dull headache. This was very strange for a man who never got headaches! What was going on? He decided to get up and get a drink of water.

Once he sat down at his desk and looked over his notes, he struggled to understand them. He looked over the math problems and he had a terribly hard time understanding what he had written. He had no clue what the problems were or how to even solve them. But, wasn’t he the math teacher? For the moment, it seemed like he was suffering from some form of amnesia. He felt like he had forgotten some of his math knowledge. He was feeling like one of his students, who had just learned some of the math concepts the other day. He just closed the book and the notebook and decided to brush it off. Again, he was getting confused. Things seemed really strange that day.

Back at the small house, Albert was having a ball! Knowing that he could swap small items from Tim, he decided to go for something bigger. Since Tim had given him a ride in his nice sedan, it was time for the ultimate test: the Audi.

Albert walked over to the small parking lot in front of his apartment. He saw his cheap, little bike parked there. Time for a change. He took the cell phone and searched down the list for Tim’s app until it appeared on the list. He tapped his finger on the Audi and then he tapped on the word “swap”.
Instantly, the small, old bicycle vanished from the parking spot and in its place, a beautiful, brand new, latest model Audi sedan appeared, with the keys in the ignition switch. It was now Albert’s car.

“YES! Awesome! My car! It’s mine now!”

Albert then realized that he needed a license and registration with insurance card in order to drive the card. Again, he used his finger to find the items on the list using the app on the smartphone, and he tapped the button on the screen. Suddenly, Albert reached into his jean pocket and found his wallet containing his new driver’s license with Tim’s photo ID on it and his insurance card and the registration for the Audi! Everything was there!

At that moment, Tim walks into his garage at the house, and he finds that his Audi is gone. In its place, he sees an old bicycle parked in the center of the garage. But, wait… The bike looks familiar. Isn’t this the bike that Albert always rides to school every morning?

Then Albert decided to try the biggest swap of all: He wanted to have Tim’s house while he wanted Tim to be living in his apartment! So, once again, he used the app to select the house from the list, and he tapped on the button.

Instantly, Albert was standing in the living room of Tim’s house. This was now HIS house! Meanwhile, Tim was suddenly teleported to Albert’s apartment, sitting at Albert’s small desk in his small bedroom. Tim was beginning to get scared and confused. What was going on?

Albert was becoming delirious with all these swaps! He had swapped almost everything he had with his math teacher, with the exception of his own body and his personal items! He still looked like his own self, an ordinary high school student, with the knowledge of his math teacher. Internally he had everything he needed; he just needed to “look like” his teacher now!

He tapped on “physical attributes” for Tim and he selected everything, including height (180cm) and weight (95kg) which would be swapped with his own height (170cm) and weight (60kg). He also selected other items like cock length, hair color, eye color, skin color, shoe size, muscles, skills, mass, and everything else, so that the swap could be complete. Finally, he tapped on the “swap” button on the app, and he set the phone down on the desk to that he could quickly walk over to the mirror where he could witness the changes as they happen.

Albert begins to grow taller as he stands before the mirror. His flat stomach grows larger and his long, slender arms begin to fill out. His black hair turns blond and a pair of glasses appears on his nose. His face becomes chubbier as well, as his torso becomes bigger and heavier. Hair begins to sprout all over his body, including his chest, his chin, and his arm pits. He also gains a fine coating of hair on his legs. Speaking of which, his short but muscular athletic legs, which were muscular due to many hours of playing and training for soccer, now fill out and become the legs belonging to a middle-aged man who just happens to be the high school math teacher. His feet grow a few sizes bigger as well, and he is now wearing dress shoes instead of sneakers. Finally, Albert ages from 15 years old to 35 years old! He grows 20 years older in a matter of seconds! He is a grownup now! An adult! No longer a teenager!

As he turns around and looks in his closet, his wardrobe has also changed. All his soccer clothes have gone! He now has dress shoes and slacks; he has button shirts and ties, along with nice, expensive clothing. He has far fewer t-shirts, hoodies, and sweaters! No more cheap clothing that only the students would wear in school! He was a teacher now!

Meanwhile, back in the small apartment, Tim was confused when he was suddenly overcome by the same changes that Albert had just experienced, but in reverse! Tim started to regress all of the sudden, becoming younger in a matter of minutes! He was 35 and he suddenly found his body becoming younger and younger as the seconds ticked off the clock. His hair receded and became darker as his skin became smooth. His arms became shorter as well as his legs. Suddenly, he became more muscular as well! His legs were shorter but his calves and quads bulged with young, powerful muscle, like that of a runner or a young soccer player!

Tim was suddenly fifteen years old, and in his mind he was suddenly in love with the idea of going back to high school! He was a student again, and he just loved hanging out with friends, chatting online, playing sports, and hanging out with his teammates. He would spend evenings studying and playing video games as well as doing stuff on his little inexpensive cell phone, which he got for his birthday. All his previous memories of being a math teacher were now gone! He was a kid again, and he had the coolest math teacher, a big guy with glasses and blond hair named Tim Stevens. Lastly, after school, Tim now named Albert, would go on his little laptop and surf the web. His favourite website was Facebook, where he could catch up with all his friends and classmates. He would also download the coolest apps and try them out. Until one day, when he came across the “Magic Facebook App…”
The end

You can read Scriptboy's other stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/meta/

“The Statement of X--- Y--- Z---" Part 5

by Seuzz

I was telling you last time about the start of my high school years. I think we can cover them quickly.

I started high school in a new place, a little town in Nebraska. I don't know why my dad chose to move, or why he chose to move there. He didn't have a job there. He never had a job.

I've no idea, but we were never seriously short of money. He would disappear for months on end. My mom would go on relief. We would scrape by. Then my dad would show up again. I think he would have money with him, because things would get a better for us. Food would be better. He would get a new car. It would be used, but it would be new for us.

I didn't have much to do with my parents. My mom was a hopeless alcoholic by the time I was out of elementary school, and when my dad wasn't around she and I didn't have much to do with each other. I'd make my own meals, keep to myself in my room. After we moved to Nebraska, my dad, when he came back to town, would pretend to have an interest in me. He'd check up on my schoolwork, ride me hard to make sure I was going to school. But it never lasted long. Eventually he'd forget about me. I could always tell when he was about to take off again, because he'd move into a motel room a few weeks before going off again.

Mm, yes, the thought occurred to me. But I never talked to him about crawling. I think I was afraid of the answer, whether "Yes" or "No." See, if he didn't know about crawling, and I told him what I could do, then what would he do? He might regard me as a monster, and try to do something to me. Or he might decide to use me, to force me to crawl certain people so he could get money or something. I didn't want to do that, not when I was a teenager. I mean, I would have liked to have money, to have the things that other people had, but not as a job, and not to bring stuff back to him. And if the answer was "Yes" ...

Well, it would explain a lot, wouldn't it? It would explain where I got the ability, it would explain why he was always going off and returning with money--he was himself crawling people, but doing it out of sight, in strange cities, where no one would know him. If I told him what I could do, and he was doing it too, he might be able to help me with it, to train me. It's likely he would have made me a partner. But I didn't want to have anything to do with him.

Oh, God, yes, wouldn't that have been lovely? I'm being sarcastic, in case you can't tell from my tone. To crawl my own father. Ychh!

Alright, the thought occurred to me, but only as a method for finding out what he was up to. But I didn't, because, again, what if it was something he could do? Could a crawler crawl another crawler? If he could do it too, if that's what he was doing, then I'd be exposing myself and my ability to him, and I didn't want to do that. And if he wasn't a crawler-- I didn't like him, and I certainly didn't want to be inside him, even for a little while. Snooping was the only reason to crawl him, and it would be very risky with little possible payoff. Let him have his own life and his own secrets. I'd keep my own.

If he was a crawler, he was better than me, wasn't he? He never got caught. Or, I don't know, maybe he did? Is that why you were on the lookout for me? You knew there was another out there?

Yes, I'm very bad at winnowing information out of others. I have my own way of learning what I want to know, and it's left me very unskilled at other methods.

But if you asked me to speculate, I'd say he wasn't a crawler. If he was, he'd have tried harder to get me to reveal myself. I think he was probably just a grifter. Maybe he had another family, a richer family, somewhere else. It's a big country, and back then it was much easier to maintain a double life.

As for where we wound up, it was a shitty little town in Nebraska, a rural community, a place where everyone knew everyone else, where it was the same few hundred families and had been for decades. Newcomers didn't fit in, especially in school, where the kids had their longstanding cliques and habits. I was a novelty for a few days. If I'd been good at sports or just had decent social skills, I guess I could have found a place and fit in. As it was ...

Naturally, I thought about trying to fit in by finding someone to crawl, like I had with Tommy. But there were no opportunities. It had been pure luck that I'd found Tommy, and after a few weeks I really regretted not staying in Tommy when I'd had the chance. And when I did take a chance it backfired horribly.

His name was Robin. He was a sophomore and I was a freshman. He was a bully, but I hadn't been on his radar. He hadn't been on mine. But like with Tommy, I caught him alone in the gym. I leaped at him. He caught sight of me as I lunged at him, but I managed to knock him back, and once I had my hands on his face he couldn't do anything. A few minutes later I was able to stand up in my new body.

It wasn't much to brag on. He was a big kid, one of those corn-fed farm boys. Husky. He had a squashed up face that fell naturally into a squint or a leer or sneer. His arms and neck and face were tanned red, but everything else was a pasty white. He had zits, bad.

My dad was out of town again by that point, so I had the run of my new home for as long as I wanted, but I didn't stay in him long. It wasn't pleasant. He had a big family, and though I had his instincts, I didn't like the horseplay, the pushing, the sibling-on-sibling tortures. School wasn't any better. Him and his friends were crude and boring. They all chewed tobacco, took shop classes, worked on machinery, talked about the hogs they had to take care of. I had something like fun for one afternoon, pushing others around, but even he didn't have a lot of fun doing it. He only did because he was bored.

I should have used him to get into a better place, but I hadn't figured out how to use my talent properly, not yet. So I just ditched him.

But like I said, he'd caught sight of me before I took him, so after I was out of him--

I don't know what he thought had happened to him. I'm sure he didn't tell anyone that I'd managed to possess him, even if he recognized that's what happened. But he had a grudge against me from that day on, and he got a lot of others to help out. I kept to myself anyway, so I easily got a reputation as a weirdo, and him and his friends nailed it in place.

Three years of absolute hell followed. I was a faggot, a homo. I guess that's what Robin had told everyone, that I'd made a pass at him in the gym. The details of what they did to me aren't important. Him and his friends weren't ingenious, but they were persistent.

The only friend I had was a kid named Lee. Another shy, loner type. I don't think we really liked each other. We didn't have anything in common. He was a good student and I wasn't. He studied music and I didn't. I read science-fiction and fantasy books, and he didn't. I hate to say it, but I think the only reason he hung around me was--

Well, we were hanging out one night, late, and he told me he thought he was gay.

Mmm, I suppose if you tell another guy you're gay, it's in the same way you tell a girl that she's pretty. You're hoping it leads somewhere. Maybe you're not even hoping, you're just hoping it opens up a path, and at the end of that path is ... the conclusion of a dream. But you can pass it off casually if the other person doesn't reciprocate. On this night, we were sharing confidences. Exchanging secrets. Sharing the really deep, important stuff. He told me about his dreams and ambitions. I told him about my home life. He told me some other boring shit about himself, I told him more about myself. Eventually it reaches a pitch where you feel like you can drop some pretty big bombs and it won't freak the other person out. I'm sure it was enough for him that he got to unburden himself. And since I was a guy regularly tagged as a fag, that made it easier for him to unloose himself. So he told me.

And then I made the mistake of telling him my big secret. Yeah, I told him I could crawl people. Described how it worked and what I'd done.

Skeptical? You know, I could have handled it if he were just skeptical. If he'd just said "Prove it," I could have asked him to let me demonstrate it on him. But no, he had to get creeped out. Jesus Christ, you'd think a gay teenager living in rural Nebraska--and this was back in the days when everyone pretended Paul Lynde was just a funny guy with a fussy manner! You'd think he'd have a little sympathy, especially after I'd shown him sympathy. But no, he shut down the conversation real quick. And we didn't talk or hang out much after that. After that, he thought I was a weirdo too.

Oh, please. No, I don't feel like I'm a victim of bigotry. Being bigoted against me is like being bigoted against pickpockets or serial killers. I do what I do, and I do it with my eyes open. If people fear and despise me--if you fear and despise me--I'd say you have every reason to.

Yeah, I got back at him. Eventually. Indirectly.

It was a two-fer, or a dividend. It came after I found a way to get out of high school.

See, I hadn't given any thought to what I'd do after graduation. I wasn't cut out for college. By the time I was a senior, I knew that whatever I did after high school, I would do it as someone else. That someone else turned out to be Peter Isaacson.

He was one of the jocks. Football player, wrestler, basketball player, etcetera. Not because he was an all-around athlete, but because in a small school all the jocks did all the sports. He was a decent guy, never made my life hard. Had a girlfriend, had prospects. He'd be going to college, a state school, but he wasn't going to be going directly into the family business, not yet.

Anyway, my senior year I was working in the library as a school aide. One day I'm working after school--something I never did--because I'd gotten behind in my library chores. Isaacson comes in to do some studying. There's hardly anyone else around. I see him disappear into the one blind corner in the place. And just like it had been with Tommy, I got a strong feeling, that this was a chance that I should take. So I quietly followed him, took some books with me, like I needed to reshelve them. He glanced back at me, turned back to the book in his hand. I looked over my shoulder real quick, to make sure the coast was clear. And then I took him from behind. He sank back in my arms as I liquefied. It was silent, swift, powerful. I got back on my feet quickly, looked around again. No one had seen. I put his book back on the shelf and hustled off to the bathroom to take stock.

I had to check out my new home, because I knew it wasn't going to be like the other times. The other times I was just experimenting, or taking vacations, or playing around. This time there was no going back. I remember gripping the sides of the sink--he had powerful arms and hands--and stared into the mirror. He had sandy hair, close cropped. A strong face, with a square chin. Pale blue eyes. I just kept staring at my new face, even as I slowly pulled his letterman jacket on over his t-shirt and hitched his backpack onto my shoulder. I didn't do anything to fight the hard-on I was getting. He was--I was--going to see his girlfriend after leaving school, so why force it down? Another guy came in, said something to me, I said something back, totally in character. Trudged slowly back out into the hallway. I didn't do anything to clean up the remnants of my old life. Left my locker and all my stuff without looking back. There was none of it I wanted.

That was just before Christmas. His family drove up to Omaha to see his grandparents, uncles and aunts and cousins. We played football in the snow, watched the games. Exchanged presents. I took my littler cousins for car trips, played with the babies. Of course, no one spotted any change in Peter. When we got back home I hooked up again with my girlfriend, to our mutual satisfaction. Worked on college essays.

It helped that he had ambitions. He was going to try out for the university football team, but he was going to be a business major, was already thinking about a family. I had lots to occupy myself, including the team sports I was now doing. Robin, he hadn't any ambitions, maybe because he was just a farm boy, and he'd only been a sophomore at the time.

Robin had been a year ahead, so he'd graduated already, though I still saw him around town. But it would have been out of character for Peter to do anything to my regular tormentors. Still, since I was one of the top guys, I found subtle ways of putting them down. Hurt them a little harder out on the practice field, things like that. As for Lee--

Looking back, I'm not proud of what I did to him, though I've done worse to people since. Usually they deserved it, though. But with Lee-- I waited until we were close to graduation, and then I started cozying up to him. Went out of my way to be friendly to him. Arranged a couple of times to have a burger alone with him. Nothing weird. I just pretended to be interested in him and in his interests. He was flattered. Probably aroused. At any rate, he didn't demur when I invited him out late one evening for a drive.

It was in my early graduation present. A used pick up truck. I'd have to make the monthly payments on the loan, but my dad--my new dad, who was an honest, hard-working sort--had made the down payment for me. We drove out far into the country, then took off across a field and buried ourselves in the middle of it. I had a six pack, but Lee didn't drink. I had a few, not because I needed them, but to make it look ... plausible. It was dark when we stopped and climbed into the back, to lay back and look at the stars and talk.

After some chitchat, I told him I knew he was gay. He jumped a little, but I told him I was okay with that. I told him I wanted him to be happy. He shrugged. I told him I wasn't gay, but I wondered what it was like. He got kind of tongue-tied. I asked him to show me what guys who were gay did with each other.

That did freak him out. He had to tell me he didn't know, he'd never done it. I asked him what he wanted to do. He didn't say anything. I asked him if it was like being with a girl. By that point, I could tell, he was trembling. So I just said, "Let me show you what I do with Christie."

I drew him close to me. He was very stiff and rigid, but not in his pants. I rubbed his shoulders and arms to make him relax. I told him the girl usually did the same thing, asked him if he wanted to. He fumbled at me. I'm sure he thought this was the lead in to some horrible prank. Which it was, though the punch line wasn't one he could see coming.

Gradually, I wore him down, got him to unwind. We ran our hands over each other, though I had to start him off by guiding him, placing my hands over his. We kissed and nuzzled. It was a warm night, so neither of us got cold as the clothes came off. We kept it a hands-only affair. I put him on his back and slowly brought him to climax, the way Christie had with Peter--and with me--so many times. Still, he couldn't bring himself to reciprocate, so I had to jack myself off while he sat on my lap and watched, lightly holding my hands and forearms and elbows while I did it. When it was over, we held each other for a little while, and then drove back to town.

When we got back to his place I got out of the truck, but I didn't follow him up the walk. I just pulled him close before letting go of him. I peered down at him--I was half a head taller--and let my voice get stony. I asked him if he remembered me--the former me, the kid who'd disappeared. He said of course he did. I said, "You told him you were gay. That's how I knew." He said, "He told you?" I said, "He told you, and then he told you about himself. He told you he could crawl into people and take over their bodies, right?" He made kind of a face and muttered, "Something like that." Then I leaned in and said, "You know how he disappeared? What happened to him?" He got kind of a scared look. Probably thought I was gonna say that I'd killed the kid and buried him. Instead, I said, "Well, you didn't believe him, but guess what. He crawled inside me. Or I crawled inside Peter. Doesn't matter which way you put it. I just wanted you to know that it's real." And I remember jabbing him hard in the chest. "And what we did tonight," I said, "Peter never would have done that. And we'll never do it with you again. Too bad you didn't believe me, back then. Too bad you didn't help me get into Peter back then, or into someone else. We could've done a lot more of it, with whoever you wanted."

He took a step back, and stared. Then I got back in the truck and drove off.

I saw him for a few more weeks, at school, but totally blew him off.

Caption This! (3rd March)

**THE STORIES ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

Thanks to samgioba for the chat & helping choose today’s picture.