Becoming Travis Barker, Part 1

By Slick Psych

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

Sunday Reloaded: Room Mates

It had been great since the coach changed all the room allocations for the football team. To help with their grades he'd insisted that there was one nerd to every two jocks.

I had to move in with Trey and Wilson--linemen, two heavy built fuckers. When I first moved in they treated me like a servant as did most of the other jocks with their new room mates.

That was until I used a little trick I'd inherited from my parents. From the age of fifteen, I found that I could get inside other people. Sometimes I would just hide, other times I would take control and be them. From seventeen, I realised I could tweak their memories and remodel their personalities.

I have to admit, it didn't take long for me to lose my patience with both of them. So I jumped Wilson when he returned from a party drunk. He was the bigger of the two, and I knew his additional weight would be useful tackling Trey when the time came.

Caption This (14th Apr)

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Sunday Reloaded: Touch and Feel

I was walking down the corridor at my gym, I'd just finished a heavy workout and decided to shower at home. The ones in the gym were full of office workers, and their drone of how much money they'd made that day just grated on me.

I threw my bag over my shoulder and admired my thick bicep in the mirror on the wall, not bad for a guy of my age I thought.

It was hen I caught the reflection of a young guy checking me out, and I felt my cheeks warm as I blushed. Something about him looked familiar. But I couldn't quite place it as he came level with me he stopped. "Do I know you?" He asked.

"I don't know, come to think of it you look familiar as well," I replied.

He raised a hand, and I was surprised when he grasped my bicep. I felt something like an electric shock, so much, so I dropped my bag. "Nice piece of muscle you've got there," he murmured.

"Who are you?" I stuttered, suddenly feeling weak.

Caption This (7th Apr)

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The Lab

by Cris Kane

When he went into biological engineering, Bret had never expected to feel so inadequate as he did at his new job. In college, his classmates had been your average assemblage of nerds, geeks and introverts, with the occasional well-adjusted, reasonably attractive person to throw off the curve. Bret was glad that he had chosen to devote his life to science, where he would be judged by his mind and his ideas, not by his physical attributes or deficits. But his colleagues in the lab at NuGene were...extraordinary.

The leader of the team, Doctor Gupta, was a giant in his field...and almost literally a giant, towering over most of his employees at six foot ten with a powerful build that seemed impossible for a man who had to be in his sixties at least.

Only Dr. Gupta's assistant, Cedric, had the boss beat in the height department, his lean body topping out at seven feet even, not counting the spikes of his mohawk, his long muscular arms inked with elaborate tattoos.

Hayley, who worked at the station next to Bret, was "only" six feet tall (still four inches more than Bret), with a meek demeanor that seemed at odds with the voluptuous figure which her tight lab coat only served to emphasize.

Even Min-Wan, who was only a couple of inches taller than Bret at five-ten, had a physique most gymnasts would envy. His crystalline blue eyes and wavy blond hair combined exotically with his more typically Asian features to give him a breathtakingly handsome appearance.

By contrast, Bret was so scrawny that he wore a belt and suspenders to keep his pants from slipping down, due to his flat, nearly-nonexistent ass. Horn-rimmed glasses dominated his pleasant face, and he kept his short brown hair slicked back. He tended to slump, which only made the height discrepancy with the others in the department more pronounced.

Seanday Shorts: Good Cop

It was the guys night out, and we gonna fuck up the town big time -- at least that was the plan.

The local cop are a real hard-ass, and we knew that he'd be on our case within the hour, so we had a plan. Make sure he was on our side, and left us to party!

We drew straws on who would be making him 'see our way', and I got the short straw! Fuck, although I have to admit I played it up a bit, this time I didn't worry.

We cruised the town looking for him, and found him in a parking lot next to the all-night grocery store. He was a giant, big and muscular.

As we approached, I gulped down the shit that would make it happen. The other guys kept away from me knowing its power.

We pulled up, and piled out of the car and approached Officer Jackson. "Sup' guys?" he chuckled, it was obvious he didn't feel threatened by a handful of teenagers.

"Can I have a picture? For my Instagram," I asked, as I walked towards him.

"Er, sure."

Caption This (31st Mar)

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Seanday Reloaded: The Captain’s Table

I grinned at my new reflection in the rear view. Fuck, that was easier than I thought I said to myself. I rubbed my new thick biceps through Justin’s tight sweatshirt, damn he had a fit body and for the next couple of weeks it would be mine.

Damn. I had to pull over, I’d admired Justin from afar for so long and now I was closer than I’d ever dared believe—on the inside looking out. I grasped the steering wheel and flexed watching the fabric of the sweatshirt bulge; taking a couple of deep breaths I smiled--not mine, but Justin’s.

I slouched down in the luxurious seats of the SUV and cupped Justin’s pride in my hands; it felt warm and heavy. I gingerly bit my lip and slid a hand into the sweatpants I was wearing; I shivered touching something hard and my head dropped back with a groan. I grasped the base of the shaft and jerked it a little and a tingle rushed down my spine. My head snapped up, and I came face to face with Justin’s reflection again, and my lip curled into a smile; all mine I whispered under my breath.

Caption This (24th Mar)

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Seanday Replay: Self Funded

I looked down and let out a sigh. It had happened again.

I didn't bother to check out the body I'd been dumped in--even casually. It had happened to me so many times it was just boring now. If anything I was more concerned about my old body.

I had no idea who I was now, apart from the obvious. An eighteen, possibly nineteen year old who enjoyed walking around shirtless--kids these days I thought to myself.

Looking around I vaguely recognised the basketball court on the other side of the field. Thankfully I hadn't been dumped too far this time.

Mirror Images

by Cris Kane

"Ramon!"

Esteban leaned through the open car window and pressed firmly on the horn. He had been attempting to summon Ramon for the past ten minutes, to no avail. Agitated, Esteban glanced at his platinum Patek Philippe. He was in no danger of missing his flight, as he was important enough that the airline would delay takeoff if he had not yet arrived. In fact, the only person on earth who didn't jump into action immediately upon Esteban's command was his son.

At long last, Ramon shuffled drowsily out of the front door of the chalet, scratching his fingers through his short sandy hair. Ramon was trim and fit in his preferred ensemble of a zipper-front black polo, matching black cargo pants, and gleaming white trainers. Bored by the tedium of choosing a new combination of clothes each morning, he had settled on this outfit several years ago and rarely wore anything else. He was so fastidious about his appearance that, the moment his shoes became slightly soiled or scuffed, Ramon would discard them in favor of a fresh pair, and he was so spoiled that his father allowed him to continue this wasteful practice, even now as he reached adulthood.

"What is it, papa?", Ramon grumbled with annoyance, squinting even on such an overcast day. An outsider might chalk up this morning irritability to a hangover, but Ramon was too particular about his body to contaminate it with alcohol.