I can’t stop taking selfies. I was never this narcissistic before, but I have just stolen this body from a dick at the gym. He was making fun of my pudgy body so I decided he needed to feel what it was like.
When the swap happened and he realized what his fate was he started to cry. I laughed in his face and grabbed my new gym bag, groping around for his car keys, and told him to have fun waiting for the bus. I used to have real bad anxiety and had never bothered to even get my license, which was unfortunate for him now.
I hopped inside my new sports car and let his muscle memory take me back to his apartment. I have been going through every item of clothing he owns, trying it on and snapping pictures. I downloaded Grindr on my new phone and started looking around. Oh look, my old body is active right now. Guess he made it back to my small, shitty apartment in the bad part of town…
Fuck, I can’t believe this is what I see in the mirror now. After this dude swapped our bodies and left me in his, I had to learn as much about my life as I could real quick.
He doesn’t drive, I feel weak and anxious all the time, and he is super poor. Earlier today I was a walking Adonis, now I am just some chubby guy who lists after men like that. Wait, lusts?
On the bus on my way to my new home, I started scrolling through his phone. He had Grindr downloaded. Im not gay but I opened it out of curiosity.
The blessing of finding yourself in a new gay body with a small dick is that at least the entire bus didn’t see my erection when I saw the guy in my old body had already set himself up with a profile.
I drooled over my old body for a minute before sending him a message. I found myself feeling like a submissive, humbling asking him to just meet with me and talk. He responded quickly, telling me that he was out of my league before blocking me, shutting me out of my own life.
Oh no, now other guys are messaging me. Guys that look like I do now. What am I supposed to do?
Recently, I had a fast. Not more than 1.500 kcal a day, only eating after 4 pm, no sweets, physical activity every day to reach a needed intake of at least 3.000 kcal per day. It was hard, but I lost so much body fat, went down from 95kg to 82kg and my sixpack has started appearing. I‘m so proud!
And yet… I feel like my destiny is something else. I train and train and fight so hard against every feeling of hunger… but when I lay down to sleep, I fantasise about stories like this one.
Like… yes, like THIS is my destiny. Reading that story again and again, it suddenly becomes so clear to me. THIS is my fate: Training my body to perfection day by day, only to have some lazy, fat guy steal that body. One quick body swap destroying all those weeks of training. Seeing myself lose all the glory I worked so hard for and being sucked into that other guys life.
Seeing him in my old body, getting horny by the sight, but exactly knowing I will never touch that beauty again. Seeing that other guy taking my place, as an athlete, as a content creator on the internet, as a husband… as a husband? Yeah, that‘s why I‘d never have a chance with that slim guy. Other than my fat belly. He‘s married. And he‘s a greater partner to his husband than I could‘ve ever been. And as this dawns upon me, that he will be doing my job of being me so much better than me, I suddenly begin to accept my fate.
I touch my obese body. I think of all the tasty stuff I can eat now. I start to do exactly that. And while I stuff my face and enjoy the ecstasy of gluttony, I say farewell to the idea of slimness, the idea of healthiness, the idea of self-control. And I say farewell to my marriage. Only in my mind, of course, because my husband - sorry, EX-husband - wouldn’t even recognise me because I’m in that strangers body, while he is unknowingly sharing the highest degree of intimacy and love - bodily and emotionally - with that stranger in my body, and he is so happy with it, that I decide to let the two of them be happy together.
After all… I‘m not really made for marriage… or love. Not that I could ever find a partner. What am I made for? Exactly. Ordering a family sized pizza to stuff my nice and round belly with, because nothing makes me happier than eating while playing video games all day or spending time on tumblr, stalking that athletic guy with his rubber stuff, giving myself some pleasure, knowing he is so far out of my league, unreachable, unless some body swap shit would happen. Yeah, if I could just leave my fat body and hop into that slim guy…
Although, I‘m such a lazy and hungry slob, I think I would immediately stop his training routine and just continue eating and ruin his perfect body, haha!
And just like that, not only several weeks of hard work are ripped away from me, but also everything else in my life, from my intelligence to my job to my art to my relationship down to even my very personality. But I‘m perfectly happy with it. Because I have my pizza. And I‘m sure it won‘t need long until I have completely adapted that other guys personality and the memory of that body swa- the memory of… what? Huh. Nevermind. Time to get comfy, prepare some Kleenex and go to tumblr and read some ‚nice stories‘…
I chuckle to myself. I really drank many cocktails to loosen my limbs and mind to be able to dance with my boyfriend and the other guys. Now I really have to empty my almost exploding bladder. I passionately kiss my boyfriend, wink at him and leave the dance floor.
In the bathroom, there strangely is not a single toilet. Instead, in the stall there is kneeling some rubber gimp with a urinal mask.
A smirk wanders into my face. „Well, well, what do we have here,“ I say, lurching towards the gimp. I open up the zipper of my pants and say with a cocky voice: „Looks like someone is about to get a little treat from me! My boyfriend won‘t let me dominate him, so you will get to enjoy that pleasure!“
I‘ve absolutely never been a sadistic guy, actually, I was really nice to everyone. Also, I‘m the more submissive one in the couple. But I‘m really drunk and seeing that gimp on the floor instantly gives me a feeling of dominance and masculinity. I suddenly feel a strong urge to show that gimp its place by completely filling it up.
But when I whip out my pride, it instantly gets rock hard. „Damn, it will be hard to piss like that,“ I say, „let alone hit the target.“
I take another step closer to the gimp. „Man, I‘m horny…“
I press and knead my shaft and fight to get the piss out. „Hah, sweet release!“, I sigh as it slowly flows down into the mask of the gimp. Smiling I let all the golden juice satisfy the moaning and gulping gimps thirst. And when I finished, listening to this low creatures moans has filled me with so much lust that I continue to knead my balls and stroke my shaft. And the gimp is doing the same with his! Something happened when that gimp drank my piss.
“Oh, yes, now you‘ll get your real treat!“, I moan in ecstasy and go on and on, until … „I … will … fill you … with … my essence!“ And I manage to ram my junk right into the reservoir of the mask, my balls sitting perfectly into the bowl and my shaft into the gimps mouth as I start screaming.
I feel hot loads of fluid shooting through my junk, into the gimps mouth, again and again, thrust by thrust, way more than I ever had shot out, it had to be litres, no dozens of them. I close my eyes and enjoy filling up that gimp with … with … I get so sleepy … my senses disappear … I fill that … gimp … with … me …
As the ecstasy and the hot satisfaction in my junk disappears, I feel something in my mouth. It‘s completely filled with a hot, slimy substance, and there‘s some fleshy thing in it! And I just have to suck it! I open my eyes, but I see nothing but blackness. What did just happen?
The shaft is pulled out of my mouth and I can swallow the substance in my mouth. I hear a zipper being pulled up. Someone pats my rubbered head and calls me a good, obedient gimp. A rush of joy fills me. A stall door is being opened and then closed. I guess he is gone. I rearrange my body into a more submissive pose to make a more fitting appearance for what I am. By completely filling me up, this guy has definitely shown me my place: Down on the floor, clothed in rubber, robbed of my identity, turned into an object by a urinal mask. A urinal mask that is more my face than my actual face is. A urinal mask my owner gave me to do my job in his club and serve his customers.
The skintight rubber I wear squeaks as it moves over my skin. The urinal mask is so tight around my head. I‘m so horny. I‘m proud for having satisfied that customer as I ought to do. I continue rubbing my throbbing junk. Maybe I can finish until the next customer arrives. Though I‘d really love to have that dominant guy from before with me, he sounded so hot and I‘d love to be dominated by him more! But he‘s probably with his boyfriend again, they will party a bit more and then leave forever, like so many other guys I pleasured in this stall room. I will stay alone here and pleasure myself like the little piece of shit that I am - oh, the bathroom door is opening! Hope master is proud of me when he hears how many customers I pleasured today!
