Sunday, January 14, 2018
Seanday: The Honey Pot, pt 2 (of 7)
I looked at the teenager and thought about all the fun I'd seen him have over the past twenty-four hours--even though he wasn't in control of his own body I could see the potential. I felt my own chest, flat and without definition below the cheap grey shirt. Cheap, it's all I could afford. I knew Daniel had come from a wealthy family--that's why he was targeted by the girl.
"Fuck it!"
Grabbing Daniel's shirt I pulled him behind a dumpster. Piece by piece I removed his clothes. Then I removed my own, dropping them into the waste. I touched the teenagers chest again and my hand disappeared inside--I pulled it out, and briefly thought about what I was planning to do: steal a teenager’s life. I looked down at Daniel again and convinced myself that I could be young again--the thought of it started to make my own dick go hard. I stepped over Daniel and slowly lowered myself into his body. I could feel the cool stone against MY butt cheeks?
It was working. Quickly I moved my legs aligning them with Daniel's. There was the same tightness again. I wiggled my toes and watched as Daniel's responded.
Labels:
Age Change
,
by Sean Mitchell
,
Clothing
,
College Life
,
Friends
,
Jocks
,
Possession
,
Roommates
Saturday, January 13, 2018
Caption This (13th Jan)
** NEW STORY IN THE COMMENTS **
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!
**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**
Thursday, January 11, 2018
TGIF: Jerry's Gym, pt 2
by TS Escher
Jerry flipped the ‘open’ sign as Evan hung
out at the front counter, checking people in. The gym was his now, after all. Evan studied all of
the new raw material checking in, practically bathing himself in a pool of
potential bodies.
Unbeknownst to them, some would serve as "the muscle." Drug runners that would keep his operation going. And one lucky guy would be his new, permanent home. Someone intimidating. Someone commanding. And more importantly, someone no one would fuck with.
As the day wore on, Jerry kept a weary eye on Evan, unsure of his next move. Passing by a mirror on his way to the locker room, he forced a smile. He was relieved that the overly-trained ginger in the mirror smiled back.
I'm going to get us out of this, he promised his reflection in silence. And Jerry’s gym will belong to us again.
The trouble was, he had no idea how.
“There will be an end to this, you know,” Evan piped up.
Jerry whirled around, facing his new foe.
"We just have to make it through one deal, and we're done. I need your help getting started; then I will let you keep running the gym. Everything will be as it was. Well, almost."
Rolling his eyes, Jerry charged back into the locker room. Evan was not far behind.
ACT I, SCENE 2: ENTER, LEO
READ PT 1 HERE
Unbeknownst to them, some would serve as "the muscle." Drug runners that would keep his operation going. And one lucky guy would be his new, permanent home. Someone intimidating. Someone commanding. And more importantly, someone no one would fuck with.
As the day wore on, Jerry kept a weary eye on Evan, unsure of his next move. Passing by a mirror on his way to the locker room, he forced a smile. He was relieved that the overly-trained ginger in the mirror smiled back.
I'm going to get us out of this, he promised his reflection in silence. And Jerry’s gym will belong to us again.
The trouble was, he had no idea how.
“There will be an end to this, you know,” Evan piped up.
Jerry whirled around, facing his new foe.
"We just have to make it through one deal, and we're done. I need your help getting started; then I will let you keep running the gym. Everything will be as it was. Well, almost."
Rolling his eyes, Jerry charged back into the locker room. Evan was not far behind.
Labels:
Age Change
,
Bears
,
Body Swap
,
Bodybuilders
,
by TS Escher
,
Jocks
,
Shapeshifting
,
Twinks
,
Workplace
Tuesday, January 9, 2018
The Thermometer
By Bill Rowan
As I was walking to my car after a long day of shopping I came across this little hole-in-the-wall shop I had never seen before. From the outside it looked like one of those olde musty book shops like one might see in Dickens’ London, ones that held wonderful treasures concealed inside. My curiosity aroused, I entered, not knowing what to expect. Sure enough the scent of “olde” assaulted my nose as I gazed on the plethora of wonders.
As I was walking to my car after a long day of shopping I came across this little hole-in-the-wall shop I had never seen before. From the outside it looked like one of those olde musty book shops like one might see in Dickens’ London, ones that held wonderful treasures concealed inside. My curiosity aroused, I entered, not knowing what to expect. Sure enough the scent of “olde” assaulted my nose as I gazed on the plethora of wonders.
“May I help you, sir?” A friendly looking older gentleman
asked as he approached. He fit perfectly with the aura the store was exuding.
“Just browsing, thank you.”
“Take your time. If there is anything I can help you with,
let me know.” He started to move away and as he did my eyes focused on
something shiny.
“What is that?” I asked him as I pointed to a long glass
tube with spheres suspended in a clear liquid. Each sphere was filled with some
sort of colored liquid, giving the object a very intriguing appearance.
“That? That is a Galileo thermometer. The young fellow that
brought it in said he thought it was broken though because the balls always
stay at the top. Said his uncle had it for years before he just disappeared one
day.”
I had seen such tubes before but had never bothered to find
out what they were. I couldn’t fathom how little glass spheres could accurately
tell the temperature. Science was never my strong suit.
“How much?” I asked as I stared transfixed. He named a
price and after a little bit of haggling I bought it on the spot. While it
might not be anything other than a conversation piece I found looking at the
balls to be quite fascinating. He carefully wrapped my newly acquired treasure
in tissue paper and placed it in a bag so it would be safe on my trip home.
Sunday, January 7, 2018
Seanday: The Honey Pot, pt 1 (of 7)
I'd been sent to Majorca to investigate some weird occurrences: bank accounts of teenagers being emptied. I'd spent three weeks there and I still wasn't any closer to discovering the perpetrator. But thumbing through the crime reports I noticed some similarities in the victims pictures--young men, all teenagers but still pretty ripped. I looked at my own body, thirty-four but I looked younger--but still too old for this crowd.
It was Friday and I headed down to the airport to see the latest influx of visitors to the island. It was the last weekend of the season and there must have been only thirty people. As I waited for them to exit arrivals I looked through the list of passengers. There was a group of four that were waiting for their luggage, one of them looked like a perfect target--tall, blonde and an impressive chest exposed by the low cut v-neck shirt.
Walking to the group I asked if they needed a lift to their hotel, my mini-van was outside. Accepting my offer I took them to their hotel. On the drive over I found out the guy's name was Daniel, this was his first time abroad without his parents, just him and his friends. He offered to pay for the trip flashing a huge roll of cash, but I declined. I knew then I'd found the next victim--good looking, strong, naive and loaded with cash.
It was Friday and I headed down to the airport to see the latest influx of visitors to the island. It was the last weekend of the season and there must have been only thirty people. As I waited for them to exit arrivals I looked through the list of passengers. There was a group of four that were waiting for their luggage, one of them looked like a perfect target--tall, blonde and an impressive chest exposed by the low cut v-neck shirt.
Walking to the group I asked if they needed a lift to their hotel, my mini-van was outside. Accepting my offer I took them to their hotel. On the drive over I found out the guy's name was Daniel, this was his first time abroad without his parents, just him and his friends. He offered to pay for the trip flashing a huge roll of cash, but I declined. I knew then I'd found the next victim--good looking, strong, naive and loaded with cash.
Labels:
Age Change
,
by Sean Mitchell
,
Clothing
,
College Life
,
Friends
,
Jocks
,
Possession
,
Roommates
Friday, January 5, 2018
TGIF: Jerry's Gym, pt 1
by TS Escher
Jerry’s eyes widened in disbelief. Overcome with anger; his hands balled up into fists. This little prep-school motherfucker is proposing to use my gym to run his drugs? Over my dead body!
Evan’s dark eyes narrowed. He knew that Jerry was formulating the fighting words that he had been waiting for. Jerry had been known around the gym as a gentle giant. A successful competitive bodybuilder whose gym had become not so successful as of late.
Evan’s eyes shifted to the clock. Fuck. Four forty-five. Almost opening time. Impatient, Evan took a rebellious step toward the man three times his size.
Jerry laughingly shook his head, “This is a road you don’t wanna go down, string-bean. Now I said no. I don’t want any part of your business. You wanna work out here, fine; you paid just like everyone else. But if I ever catch you dealing in here—”
“You’ll what?” Evan responded, with a mix of curiosity and delight.
Jerry flexed his pecs in warning. “I think it’s just about time you leave, friend.” As he placed a firm hand on Evan’s forearm and bounced his chest again, it suddenly became stiff, suspended in a hard flex. With his free hand, Jerry grabbed the tight muscle and felt his heart thump. HARD. His legs wobbled.
Am I having a heart attack?
ACT I, SCENE 1: ENTER, THE THIEF
Jerry’s eyes widened in disbelief. Overcome with anger; his hands balled up into fists. This little prep-school motherfucker is proposing to use my gym to run his drugs? Over my dead body!
Evan’s dark eyes narrowed. He knew that Jerry was formulating the fighting words that he had been waiting for. Jerry had been known around the gym as a gentle giant. A successful competitive bodybuilder whose gym had become not so successful as of late.
Evan’s eyes shifted to the clock. Fuck. Four forty-five. Almost opening time. Impatient, Evan took a rebellious step toward the man three times his size.
Jerry laughingly shook his head, “This is a road you don’t wanna go down, string-bean. Now I said no. I don’t want any part of your business. You wanna work out here, fine; you paid just like everyone else. But if I ever catch you dealing in here—”
“You’ll what?” Evan responded, with a mix of curiosity and delight.
Jerry flexed his pecs in warning. “I think it’s just about time you leave, friend.” As he placed a firm hand on Evan’s forearm and bounced his chest again, it suddenly became stiff, suspended in a hard flex. With his free hand, Jerry grabbed the tight muscle and felt his heart thump. HARD. His legs wobbled.
Am I having a heart attack?
Labels:
Age Change
,
Body Swap
,
Bodybuilders
,
by TS Escher
,
Jocks
,
Shapeshifting
,
Workplace
Monday, January 1, 2018
Seanday Recharge
Welcome to the New Year!
I'm looking forward to 2018, but for the moment there are a lot of shifting sands my little world.
I'm taking a break (again), but don't worry, over the coming weeks I've scheduled a multipart story from the past. It's one of my personal favourites, and one of the stories I'm most proud of. You may have read it before, but I hope you'll enjoy it again.
I may post some short stories on the Tumblr shadow site Second Skin in the meantime if the itch becomes too great.
As always I'll be around for comments, emails or chats (sorry no RPs for the time being).
S.
I'm looking forward to 2018, but for the moment there are a lot of shifting sands my little world.
I'm taking a break (again), but don't worry, over the coming weeks I've scheduled a multipart story from the past. It's one of my personal favourites, and one of the stories I'm most proud of. You may have read it before, but I hope you'll enjoy it again.
I may post some short stories on the Tumblr shadow site Second Skin in the meantime if the itch becomes too great.
As always I'll be around for comments, emails or chats (sorry no RPs for the time being).
S.
Sunday, December 31, 2017
Seanday Renewal: Not Today
I was on the way to Grant’s house—a friend—for the New Year. His girl had dumped him on Christmas Eve, what a bitch. He was really down and didn't want to party. So like a good mate, I said I'd keep him company.
When I passed a local pub, a commotion in a side alley caught my attention. A big guy had cornered another in a red shirt. A few of friends--I assumed--stood by jeering.
"Fuck him Reilly, open him up," a skinny guy yelled.
Reilly held up a hand. "What's your name?" he asked the guy in red.
"Steve," the guy managed to say.
"Who wants him?" Reilly chuckled, "Who wants to be Steve?"
When I passed a local pub, a commotion in a side alley caught my attention. A big guy had cornered another in a red shirt. A few of friends--I assumed--stood by jeering.
"Fuck him Reilly, open him up," a skinny guy yelled.
Reilly held up a hand. "What's your name?" he asked the guy in red.
"Steve," the guy managed to say.
"Who wants him?" Reilly chuckled, "Who wants to be Steve?"
Labels:
Bodybuilders
,
by Sean Mitchell
,
Friends
,
Jocks
,
Possession
,
Revenge
Saturday, December 30, 2017
Caption This (30th Dec)
Since there has been a decline in Caption This readers stories, this seemed like a sensible point to end them. If there is sufficient interest I will bring them back. Let me know in the comments.
Friday, December 29, 2017
TGIF: Maneater
by TS Escher
The world would be better off without
humans. No pollution. No war. No country music. Unfortunately, they are also necessary.
While savoring this fleeting thought, I move closer to the welcoming warmth of the lamp. My hands are starting to lose their greenish hue as a resigned sigh bubbles up in my throat.
I have to face facts. Chase is starting to deteriorate, and I will be forced to feed again.
My kind, or more specifically plants of my genus, need two things to survive: humans and light. Distant cousins of the Venus Flytrap, we are carnivores. But instead of flies, we feed on humans. As a result, I live simply. I do not need furniture, food or drink. My only sport is hunting and the occasional human fuck.
While savoring this fleeting thought, I move closer to the welcoming warmth of the lamp. My hands are starting to lose their greenish hue as a resigned sigh bubbles up in my throat.
I have to face facts. Chase is starting to deteriorate, and I will be forced to feed again.
My kind, or more specifically plants of my genus, need two things to survive: humans and light. Distant cousins of the Venus Flytrap, we are carnivores. But instead of flies, we feed on humans. As a result, I live simply. I do not need furniture, food or drink. My only sport is hunting and the occasional human fuck.
Labels:
Bears
,
Bodybuilders
,
Bodysuits
,
by TS Escher
,
Shapeshifting
,
The Law
Monday, December 25, 2017
Naughty or Nice
by Bill Rowan
Gonna find out who’s naughty and nice
Gonna find out who’s naughty and nice
Santa
Claus is coming to town.
Ben was a good man. Smart and kind hearted, he was the kind
of man that could make the world a better place. No matter how hard Ben’s life
was he always found time to help others. This morning he had been walking in
town when he came upon an elderly man sitting on the sidewalk, trying to stay
warm by huddling close to a shop door. People ignored the obviously destitute
man and Ben had seen the owner of the shop try to shoo the man away, yelling at
him to find someplace else to sit and stop disrupting his business. That’s the trouble with people these days.
No time to help anyone else other than themselves. Ben extended his hand to
the man as he struggled to stand up.
“Bless you sir. This cold weather gets into my bones.”
“You’re most welcome. Here, take my coat. It will help keep
you warm.” The man protested but Ben insisted and wrapped the coat around him.
“Take this and get yourself something to eat.”
“Really sir. I couldn’t take your money.”
“Nonsense. I won’t take no for an answer. Merry Christmas to
you.”
“And the same to you sir.”
Helping always made Ben feel better. He could forget about
his own problems if only for a short while. Ben had made some bad choices in
the past and had wound up living a very hard life as he approached his later
years. There were always people far worse off than himself though and for what
he had he was most appreciative. He had a nice warm house to live in and food
on his table so why not share with others when he could?
Ben had hung his stocking on the mantel and his Christmas
tree was all decked out in ornaments and tinsel that sparkled in the twinkling
blue lights. Unfortunately, there were no brightly wrapped presents under the
tree and the only excitement in the house was Ben’s enthusiasm while he waited
for Christmas eve.
He still believed in Santa and every year he got
disappointed when Santa didn’t show up to eat the milk and cookies he put out. This year would be different, he told
himself, it just had to be. So,
hoping for a miracle Ben went off to bed, visions of sugar plums dancing in his
head.
Christmas morning arrived with bright sunshine glistening
on newly fallen snow. Ben awoke early, anxious to see if Santa had been.
Ben made his way downstairs to his Christmas tree, hoping
for the best but knowing he would probably be disappointed yet again. His eyes
went wide with amazement when he saw the room. Decorations of all shapes and
sizes adorned just about every surface, making a picture perfect Christmas scene.
Santa Claus came! The milk and cookies
are gone! And my coat! But I… While
there were still no presents under the tree, Ben noticed a small bulge in the
toe of his Christmas stocking. He pulled the tiny wrapped box from its hiding
place, anticipation filling him as he read the attached tag.
“Dear Ben. You are a very good man and deserve the best
that life has to offer. Merry Christmas. Santa.”
I knew
it!
Santa is real!
Fingers trembling, Ben very carefully unwrapped his
precious treasure. Much to his surprise what lay inside, nestled in a velvet
lining, was a pair of exquisite gold and diamond cufflinks. Obviously very real
gold and diamonds but of what use to Ben they were going to be was beyond his
guess. He never went anywhere in a fancy suit that would require cufflinks like
these. He didn’t even own a fancy suit! Maybe
I can sell them for a lot of money. Maybe that is what Santa intended.
Still, they were a nice gift even if they weren’t of much
use to him. He took them out to examine them closer, turning them over in his
hands. They were even engraved with initials: “BC”. The “B” could stand for
Benjamin but the “C”? His last name didn’t start with a “C”. Maybe Santa had
made a mistake, and these were meant for someone else. Someone who had money
and could make use of them. Disappointed, Ben started to return them to their
box when he stuck his finger on one of the diamonds. A small drop of blood
dripped onto the link which, much to his surprise, disappeared immediately into
the diamond. What the…?
Before he could finish his thought, he found himself
outside on some sort of pathway, dressed in a very well-tailored suit, the inks
firmly attached to the cuffs of the shirt he now wore.
A very confused Ben looked around. Where am I? What happened? Not
too cold but why am I outside in a suit?
The path ambled across well-manicured lawns to a large mansion just
up ahead. Whoever lives here must be very
wealthy to own such an estate. I hope they are awake. Gaping at the scenery
all the while, he made his way to the front door, hesitant about possibly
disturbing somebody. He couldn’t stand out here all day and maybe there would
be some answers inside. He rang the doorbell, waiting for someone to respond.
***
Sunday, December 24, 2017
Seanday Cheer: New Lease of Life
“December already? Damn, I’m getting too old for this job,” Santa groaned. He looked over at his son casually snapping a selfie on his mobile. "I used to be like you," he told Jerry with a chuckle.
"Yeah, right pops," Jerry replied. "They didn't have smart phones when you were my age."
"No, but I was just as strong as you, and I had some manners," Santa muttered. "Are you going to help me with the deliveries this year? I could do with some help son."
"Love to, but I've got some plans. You know I would otherwise."
"But I could do it in half the time if you helped me."
"Pops, I could do it in half the time by myself," Jerry sneered.
Labels:
Age Change
,
Age Regression
,
Bodybuilders
,
by Sean Mitchell
,
Christmas
,
Family Life
,
Jocks
,
Magic
,
Workplace
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