I looked in the mirror and my brain just froze. There is no way this could be real! Staring back at me was a kid, barely older than my youngest son is, if I had to guess. And not just any kid, but a White kid with sun bleached shaggy blonde hair and ice blue almost gray eyes. There was a little discoloration under the eyes, and the face seemed a little pallid, but by and large, this was the face of a teen model I was sure of it. You see, I had been a Hispanic man, well until now I guess. 42 years old, pudgy from years of sedentary work in my office and decades of poor eating habits with a hefty dose of beer on a regular basis. Yet, looking at me in as much disbelief as I was looking at him was the reflection of an older teen boy who would probably be the definition of All American Jock that would be cast in your typical teeny bopper movie.
I reached a hand up, seeing the tan and extremely muscular arm reach out from under the basic blue hospital blanket covering my new body. My hands seemed small to me, but maybe that was just the weirdness of being in a FREAKING KID’S BODY! What the fuck?! I shook my head trying to clear the oddness of the situation and touched my face with my small stubby fingers, feeling the angular nose, the full adolescent lips, the high cheekbones, and the cleft on the chin. I strummed the back of my hand against the faintest wisps of peach fuzz across the chin and a little on the cheeks. I ran my small strong hands through my thick unkempt hair, which was the weirdest of all sensations since I had been balding the last decade and had kept my hair short to hide it as best I could.
I closed my eyes, trying to soak in this whole experience, but constantly finding my brain unable to comprehend my current situation. How in the world is this even possible? I have to be hallucinating, right? Maybe I was always this kid and I just imagined I used to be a middle-aged overworked husband and father of two? Maybe I was just some super stressed out high school senior or college freshman who is having some sort of delusional breakdown?
“I understand this is a lot to take in, believe me. I mean, I can’t really sympathize as much as I wish I could – you are after all the world’s first successful brain transplant patient. But I promise I will answer any and all questions you might have and do my best to help you get comfortable to your new reality. OK?”
I weakly nodded, honestly afraid to believe any of this was real. What about my wife, what about my sons? Thankfully, they hadn’t been in the car with me at the time. My wife and son were across town his high school wrestling meet, while my oldest son was two states away in college. Oh my God! How are they going to take this? “Hi honey, hi boys, it’s me, your dad, even if I look like some teenaged jock now…” I chuckled inwardly at that.
“Good! Well first off, I’m Dr. Jenkins, but you can call me Jeremy if you like.” I nodded, looking at him as he continued to speak. He looked to be about mid-thirties if I had to guess. He had brown hair in a trendy style with some nice looking glasses sitting atop his firm nose. I could tell he had a fit, muscular body underneath that dress shirt and slacks, as both were quite tight and showed off his physique in all the right places… Hmm… I started to fantasize about this man talking to me, I wanted him to make out with me, I wanted him to hold me down and pound…
What the FUCK! Wait, no, no, HELL no! I mean, I’m not gay, never had a gay thought in my life! OK, don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against gay folks. There’s one in the next office over at work, I’ve worked with several over the years, and there’s the gay couple who live down the street who are friendly and mainly keep to themselves. But I have never once in my entire life thought of another man in a sexual way!
About this time Jeremy realized I wasn’t paying attention and had a pained look. “Um, are you OK?”
“No” I responded, weakly, hearing my soft teenaged voice for the first time. Damn that’s weird.
“Well, this will be an ongoing experiment, so if you are having any weird reactions, thoughts, or experiences, please let me know so I can keep it in our notes for the project report, OK?”
I hesitated for nearly a minute. I don’t even know this man, yet I wanted him to do some, frankly, weird sexual stuff with me. I was simultaneously repulsed by what my mind pictured him doing to me and more turned on than I had been in decades. Again, understand that as a straight man my entire life, gay sex held no interest for me whatsoever – And yet here I was, wanting this man so totally and completely. FUCK!
“Uh…” I started out slowly, getting used to my new voice, “I’m having some weird thoughts that I’m not used to and not totally comfortable with…” My voice still had that teenaged quality to it, like I hadn’t fully completed puberty yet, though the body I found myself in said otherwise.
“Really? That’s unusual, we expected memory to be stored in the brain, so we expected any memories you might have would have been yours and yours alone.” He said, jotting down something on a nearby notepad.
“Well, it’s not really memories, just thoughts, weird thoughts. Thoughts I never had before in my life.” I paused, deciding to go ahead and say it, “sexual thoughts…”
“Sexual? Like how?” He asked, genuinely puzzled and scientifically curious.
“Are you sure you won’t be angry?” I asked, with what I am sure was with innocent puppy dog eyes. Was I really wanting this man to be impressed with me and worried he wouldn’t like me? This is too weird!
“I won’t be angry, I promise. I just want to know what’s going on inside of you so we can make it part of the report, that’s all. I won’t judge you one way or the other. In fact, for this report, I won’t have any judgements at all beyond my final conclusions on the success of the project.” He said with a warm smile. Fuck! That smile was so sexy, I could feel my teen cock about to burst without even touching it.
“I’m thinking about you kissing me, then holding me down… And… fucking me….” I said and looked away in embarrassment. I swear I was about to cry, especially if this man were to reject me harshly. Like a typical lovesick teen; I poured my inner thoughts out to him and was waiting for his validation and reciprocation…
“Interesting…” He said in a flat tone, which didn’t help my embarrassment any. He looked up from his notepad and saw the pained look on my face, suddenly growing very concerned. “OH! I mean, I am very flattered! But I am firmly heterosexual, and even if I were gay, it would be unethical for me to do anything like that with a patient of mine, you understand?”
I looked back at him, with a look of pained sadness at being rejected, I’m sure. And I nodded, “Yeah, I understand. I’m sorry…”
“No no! Nothing to apologize for! My question is, were you bisexual before? You know, before this procedure?”
“Honestly no, I had never had a homosexual thought or desire in my entire life. But when I saw you, I just started getting those thoughts in my head and I couldn’t stop them.” I said, gazing down at the small but noticeable tent in the hospital blankets.
Jeremy followed my gaze, “Oh I see! Well, you are in the body of a young man at the peak of his sexual development, so I guess that’s to be expected.” He said, pointing at my hard on. “But as to the new sexual orientation – that honestly doesn’t make any sense. Our hypothesis was that sexuality was hardwired in the brain, and even if Thomas, your donor body, was previously bisexual or homosexual, your orientation should have remained the same as you were previously before. So if you are being totally honest that you were completely heterosexual before, this is something truly unexpected.” Jeremy said as he continued to write down some more notes.
I couldn’t help but continue to stare, but then decided to look elsewhere to get my mind off of him and those sexual thoughts of him. I started to think about my family again. Initially I thought it would be really weird for my wife, the love of my life and always just as sexy to me at 38 as when we married two decades ago, to see me now in the body of a young man somewhere between the ages of my two boys. But now, now that I know this Thomas was likely gay, well, this was going to cause a lot of issues for my continued marriage.
I tried to picture my wife, Trisha, in that sexy negligée I bought for her last Valentine’s Day, seeing her in that always brightened my mood! She kept herself trim even after two boys, even with all the hours she works at the school, nearly as tall as me (the old me), with auburn hair and green eyes, and plump sensual lips that could do wonders for my increasingly common ED. But now, nothing. I tried to picture women closer to my new age, like my eldest boy’s most recent girlfriend – the cute little redhead… Still nothing. I pictured my family now, and something weird and disturbing started to spark in my brain.
When I saw my boys, my thoughts drifted to my youngest son. Sexual thoughts… I was far too ashamed to even mention them, but just thinking of him was having a similar effect on me as thinking about Jeremy did. I have to admit, my youngest son was fit – not as fit as this new body looked to be, but this new body was also slightly older by a little less than a year. I shortly found out from Jeremy this body had just turned 18 and was in a medically induced coma for the last few months, after a terrible fall during a gymnastics event at his college nearby. My youngest, Michael, stood a little over 5’6” but a solid 155lbs of mostly muscle. He got my darker complexion, but my wife’s green eyes, and had a gruff teen bad boy look to him. Don’t get me wrong, he was a good kid, he just tended to dress in that sort of hip hop style and had an adolescent goatee and his dark brown hair kept short. Ugh, the more I thought about him, the harder I got – Was I going to be cursed to have these constant sexual thoughts about men all the time? Well, truth be told, I didn’t have the same reaction when I thought about Trevor, my oldest. He was a tall beanpole of a kid, definitely the more academic of the two, as he was studying physics and math in college. He wasn’t ugly, just sort of what you’d picture someone in that field would look like. Meanwhile Michael loved sports, loved wrestling especially, and planned to win State this year for his weight class, but cared very little for academics, doing just enough to be able to stay on his teams. He was also short and muscular and I wanted him SO bad! WHAT! No, fuck, no no no! Think about something else, come on man, focus!
About this time, Jeremy was wrapping up all the details of my situation for me. I had only been half paying attention to be honest, but I got the gist of it. That’s when he told me about the gymnastics accident, how I had been recovering for the last month, and how my family was aware of the operation, but not the results. When he asked if I wanted to see my family, I said of course without hesitation. Even with these weird new gay thoughts and this young white jock body, they were still my family and I loved them deeply.
“Good! You’ve made some incredible progress! We will probably even be able to discharge you before the end of the week at this pace. How about I give you some time to take a shower and get cleaned up. I have some of Thomas’ clothes over there by the bathroom for you to change into. By the time you are done, your family should be here. Sound good?”
I nodded and smiled.
“Awesome, well let me help you up. I just need to disconnect some of this junk first” he said, removing the various wires and tubes sticking onto or into my body, I’d be lying if I said I hoped he’d jack me off when he removed the catheter, but he was 100% professional, much to my teenaged disappointment. He came to the side of the bed and helped me get into a sitting position. In my mind I pictured him carrying me into the shower and us making love under the warm spray. But no, he just offered his arm for me to lean on as I slid off of the hospital bed into a standing position. Damn, I was short! The top of my head barely came up to the middle of his chest (I later found out I’m now 5’4” but weigh 10lbs more than Michael at 165lbs, and almost zero body fat). I wanted to “accidentally” fall into that chest and have him envelop me in those strong muscular arms with my face buried in his massive tight pecs. FUCK! This shit is getting annoying!
I shook my head and took a few small tentative steps toward the bathroom. I found my imbalance issues were more due to my new smaller height rather than with any sort of post-coma grogginess. After a few experimental steps, I was able to move regularly to the satisfaction of Jeremy who then left the room saying he’d check on me in about 20 minutes or so. Then he saw the hard on tenting my hospital gown and smiled, “Make that 25…” We both laughed at that, and then he was gone.
The pile of clothes looked like the sort of clothing I wish Michael would wear, well what I wish he’d wear as his father. As Thomas, I liked his ghetto wannabe style. But there were some clean blue jeans that looked like a normal fit and likely tailored for this shorter height (and massive quads and ass), a nice black belt, a white undershirt, and an expensive looking striped polo that said “Muscle Fit” sized M on the tag. There was a pair of clean short socks with a Nike logo on them and some well-worn Nike low tops, sized 7.5. I used to wear sized 10.5! Finally, there was a pair of black CK boxer briefs, men’s sized medium.
In the bathroom, I quickly stripped out of the generic hospital gear, smelling my ripe teenaged pits for the first time. That scent took me back to memories of when Michael first hit puberty and was stinking up the whole house until I finally convinced him he needed to shower regularly and use some damn deodorant. Well now, I guess it’s my turn to follow my own fatherly advice.
Standing nude, I saw my new body completely for the first time. FUCK! How do kids get this big these days? I remember the biggest jock in my school at that age, and he’d be scrawny compared to this Thomas. The arms and shoulders were massive proportions, making me almost seem as wide as I was now tall. My neck was nearly as large as my head. This chest was something that would put those statues of Greek gods to shame! Full plump pectoral muscles, a hard eight pack, those little muscles by the ribs, and even that extra muscle that leads down to the groin on both sides of the stomach. There was hardly any hair on the chest other than a few minor wisps around the nipples, which were firm and red sticking out slightly like pencil erasers from the tanned chest.
There were otherwise no blemishes to be seen other than a few moles and freckles here and there, hardly noticeable. I reached up with my small muscular hands and ran them across the chest, flexing as I did so, and when my fingers stroked past my new nipples, I actually oozed out a fair amount of precum I could tell. That drew my attention downward and then I saw the short but thick tool sticking out painfully hard from my groin. The veins were visibly throbbing up the sides of the shaft and the head was so red it was almost purple. I reached down to gather up a little of the pre with my finger and the sexual shock was so intense I fell to the nearby toilet seat. Damn, this body really DOES need to get off, badly!
I took a deep breath and stretched out my massive tree trunk legs, seeing each and every muscle tense and loosen under the taut golden skin with just the lightest dusting of blonde hairs covering them. I flexed my calves to see the muscles pop out and even more precum began to ooze from my squat cut dick. I ran my hands down my muscular legs as I flexed, ever so gently brushing past my good sized balls and hitting the hard throbbing dick with the back of my hands. OK, I was just teasing myself now!
“Phew! OK, enough of that,” I said, taking a whiff of my underarm, “I really need to wash this body!”
I turned on the shower, and conveniently, they had left some travel sized toiletries in the bathroom for me. I did my best to ignore the small hard beast demanding my attention between my thick legs and instead, when I got to my firm muscular ass, I curiously slid a thick digit into it, and then another, and then a third! Soon I was finger fucking myself and it felt AMAZING! I thought about Jeremy and riding the massive cock I pictured in those tight slacks. And yeah, that shit got me hard as fuck!
But then my thoughts wandered to others, and inevitably, I thought of my son Michael – I remembered an innocuous memory from a few months ago when he came home late from practice, still in his singlet, and stinking to high heaven. As his father, I thought nothing more of this other than I told him to get showered and changed before his mom got home as it was family dinner night. Which he did, grumbling all the way as a typical rebellious teenager would do. But as Thomas, my thoughts followed him into his bedroom as I slowly stripped him out of that singlet, licked every sweaty stinky inch of his hard teen body as his cock grew harder and harder. Keep in mind, I haven’t seen Michael’s penis since he was a baby – but in this fantasy, he was massively hung and had huge balls that hung low below that cock that was honestly too big to belong to a 17 year old. But I went down on him in a heartbeat and swallowed my son’s cock to the root. He picked me up and tossed me on his bed, got into a 69 position as he ate out my ass and worked to stretch it out and I worked that hard cock getting it ready to pound that same tight ass. I was moaning like a bitch as my son dirty talked me, telling me he’s going to pound my ass until I scream his name, that he was going to shoot his load so deep inside me I’d have his babies. He then stood up and pulled me to the edge of his bed, positioned that massive teen cock right at my tight jock asshole and pushed it in to the hilt!
“Yes, Michael! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!” I said both in my fantasy and aloud.
Then I came! Fuck! I didn’t even touch my cock at all, but here I was shooting an absolutely massive load of teen cum all over the wall of the shower while I still had three fingers deep inside my ass. Damn, for a small cock like this, it sure does shoot a huge wad!
Coming down from my post-orgasmic high, I quickly cleaned up what I could in the shower, put on a little bit of the deodorant that was left for me on the sink and brushed my teeth. I spent a little time trying to do something with my hair, but as shaggy as it was, I couldn’t really style it in any meaningful way. But the young man looking at me in the mirror, he certainly was handsome! Even if he now had my 42-year-old brain in his head – I think I could really get used to this second chance at life…
… If only I could keep these damn hormones under control. I don’t remember being this horny at his age! Maybe it’s the muscle? More muscle equals more testosterone after all, right?
Freshly cleaned, dressed, and as presentable as I could be – I looked like I belonged in one of those fashion catalogs, if only I wasn’t as short as I am now. About that time, Jeremy knocked on the door to ask if I was ready.
“I am! I’ll be right out!” I said in my exuberant teenaged voice.
Well, time to face the music and show my family the new me… I just wonder how they’ll take it?