Seanday Extras: The New Recruit pt2

Read pt1 here

Plan B was simple. I'd found something on the internet, from one of the more shady groups. They'd discussed a serum, quite experimental and dangerous. The victim needed to be unconscious and immobile, it was just a case of injecting them and waiting. I didn't know how it worked, or even if it was reversible, but I wanted it so much.

The officer looked strong, I imagined pulling him on, tight and warm. His firm muscular body clinging to mine, as I slowly became the officer. But that was just the start, I guessed he didn't see front line, but I wanted to serve my country. Stage two was to interview prospective soldiers, and move into them. Using the officers memories I'd be able to pick the perfect soldier, isolate them and take their place.

The officer looked over my paperwork. "Mr. Wilks. Your answers are good, excellent actually but," he paused. "I feel that your answers aren't necessarily truthful."

I felt a bead of sweat trace its way down my forehead. I shifted in my seat and put a hand in my pocket grasping the taser tightly. The officer checked the paperwork tapping at a question and snorted a chuckle to himself. I took the opportunity and lunged at him with taser crackled into life in my hand.

Seanday Choice: The New Recruit

Outside the office I tapped the pen on my lip, I glanced through the questions again. I knew what they were looking for; firm, pliable, but intelligent individuals. People they could mould into something purposeful.

I'd tried three times to get recruited, each time they'd rejected my application offering only vague excuses. I knew the look, a pitying glance even before they said anything.

I looked at the questions; all perfect answers, but mostly lies. I bit my lip, at the top of the page a space: your name. The computers would pick up my name as soon as they entered it, I needed a new one. I scribbled Jacob Wilks in the empty box and leaned back in the chair sighing, this would be my last chance. I had a plan B, but it wasn't something I wanted to pursue.

A desk jockey passed between us collecting the papers, he paused briefly to look at my questionnaire then back at me with a sceptical eye before leaving.

A buzzer echoed around the room. "Jameson, room three." My eyes flicked between the two waiting and then one stood up. A heavy set individual, with cropped black hair, he straightened his shirt and went through the door. I knew he was just the type they were looking for; I felt a tightness in my chest: envy, he was one of the lucky ones.

Lost in my thoughts, I never heard the remaining person called. When I looked up I was alone. My watch said 17:10, I knew I'd be the one last in.

**Buzz.**

I looked nervously at the desk jockey, and he nodded towards room three. Numbly I got to my feet, and stopped at the door wiping the sweat from my palms. I adjusted the bulge in my jacket pocket and with a deep breath I turned the handle.

Caption This (5th Oct)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

(note: administrators reserve the right to delete what they consider inappropriate pictures in any comments)

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

1.

2.

Three Faces of Life (pt.3)

Three Faces of Life (pt. 1)

Three Faces of Life (pt. 2)

Time seems to stand still as the fabric of the coat begins to alter. It is becoming leather and as the change continues I can tell it is a motorcycle jacket, completely hugging my body. My shirt becomes a vest, my pants change to denim, and I am wearing leather boots. This time I do not have the sensation of spinning or blacking out. I can sense new memories invading my brain as my surroundings fade into nothingness. I blink and suddenly find myself in a garage wearing a motorcycle helmet and preparing to mount a beautiful metallic midnight blue Ducati Diavel.

This time I am a very well to do young man who comes from money and doesn’t need to work. I’m just on my way to meet up with a few of my buddies at a pub that is our favorite pickup place for hot women. I start the bike up and head out on the road, the engine sounding like music to my ears. My bike is my favorite toy. She handles so easily and obeys my every command effortlessly. The sensation of speed is incredible and much too soon I reach my destination. The bouncer is a pal of mine so I get to park where I know my ride will be safe. It’s time to hit the bar.

I stop off at the bathroom prior to meeting my friends at our regular table. Fortunately it is empty so I can get myself together before scoping out the babes. I see a very familiar visage in the mirror as I unzip my jacket, exposing the well-built torso bursting to get out of the tight black vest I have on. Might as well flaunt it I always say. This night promises to be fun.

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.

Seanday Special: The Other Mitchell (pt2)

Read The Other Mitchell (pt1) here

I frowned at the unconscious form in front of me. Somehow I'd expected it to be Gordon Black under my face. But it wasn't, and I was glad--he'd been my friend since middle school. "Who the fuck is this?" I barked at Danny.

He glanced over my shoulder. "It's Ryan Schuler."

"Who?"

"He's one of the basketball players."

"Ah." I recognised the face but couldn't put a name to it. "So he's on Gordon's team?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Shit. What's the connection, where does this jerk-off fit in," I muttered under my breath. "I don't want him running around as me. Help me get him into the back of the truck. We'll undress him there."

Caption This (28th Sept)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

(note: administrators reserve the right to delete what they consider inappropriate pictures in any comments)

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

UPDATE: POSTED THREE STORIES IN THE COMMENTS, Sean

1.

2.

Three Faces of Life (pt.2)

Three Faces of Life (pt.1)

Again my own personality is being subjugated and thus I now have a persona far different from my own. I am a cocky street smart young man from the South. I ran away from my abusive home when I was 15 and have survived by turning tricks on the street since. The combination of my incredible good looks, charm, soft Southern drawl, and sexual prowess make me highly sought after. I can command a very high price for my services. It doesn’t matter to me if I have a John or a Jane as long as I get paid. Oh please let this end before I have to….

My place is located in the fashionable west side of town. Since I don’t bring business home with me my neighbors know nothing of what I do for a living. To them I am just a well-off young man. I need to check my answering service to find out if I have any messages. Of course there will be messages. Everybody wants me. First I need to finish getting cleaned up and dressed. I head for the bathroom. And while I know from my memories that I look good, I am not prepared for what I face in the mirror. I look much the same as last time but with an attitude – the built body, the strikingly handsome features, and, from what I can feel, the same awesome package which I now use to make my living. I know how to look sexy and I definitely know how to use that to my advantage. What if I am stuck like this permanently? I may be a great looking stud but I do not want to live as a male escort for the rest of my days. Cleaned up and refreshed. I quickly screen my messages until I come to one which requires my immediate attention.

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.