I awoke to the smell of mist and damp mossy ground. My body is heavy but I have the strength to carry the burdens of my skin. I looked around me and saw towering trees that extended to the skies. The ground is littered with deadwood and leaves, their smell like rotting tendrils gripping on my lungs. The horse reared below me. I pulled the reins and took control of the brown-coated equine beast.
“Boedy, why did you stop?”
It is Alex Hill riding on a horse that is as dark as the blackest night. He wore a plaid polo shirt. He may be younger than my grandfather but age is creeping up to him in the streak of whites in his hair and the cobwebs reaching out of his eyes. If it were not for the wide-brimmed hat, his nearly balding head is for everyone to see. He spat collected spit from his ground and awaited my response.
“Nothing, I thought I heard something,” I said with my new octave-deeper voice. I hate to admit it, but I love the new voice resonating in my throat. It’s enthralling. Like an orgasm that is on the verge of release.
I whipped the rains as if I knew how to ride on horseback and we went our way to the stables where tenders handled the horses. Alex Hill walked towards me and patted me on the back with his gloved hand. He reminded me that I should best remember his advice, lest I want to have a share in the inheritance. Continue to serve his wishes, not my dad, then my share is going to be bigger. Whatever conversation they had beforehand, it intrigued me. Several theories popped into my mind like family drama or a coup from the inside. To be honest, I should not be surprised. The Hills aren’t famous for their drama-free and stable family. There is no substantial proof but it is a town legend that the Hills killed their brothers to have a bigger share in the future inheritance. They said, Oliver Hill - Boedy’s uncle, moved abroad to study. Two decades have passed since then. No news for Oliver and his escapades abroad.
After we handed over the horses, we walked further into the manor grounds and to the manor itself. I have seen it from the brochures but it pales in comparison to this. The mansion is a castle made of stone, glass, and wood - with a heavy preference for the latter. The Hills prided themselves in their Redwood logging operations and that is how they built this palace. Since we came from the stables, we entered from the backyard. Even then, the door leading inside is twice as large as I am and made of wood that is as strong as steel. Even the inside smelled like the forest, minus the rotting part. Everything is wood, from the table, cabinets, and down to the feeding station for the family’s dogs.
My ‘grandfather’ bid me farewell and went to his office, leaving me to my own devices for the rest of the afternoon and evening. A slice of a moment told me that he is going to his office to talk to his campaign advisors. Another slice whispered of a path leading to my bedroom. I do not ‘know’ these things but it seems Boedy’s memory is dripping on my own, shown through semi-autonomous actions of this thick brusque body.
The mansion is a maze. Countless doors and hallways zipped left and right. Boedy’s memories are still but fog, but the whispers led me generally in the right direction. However, it did not fully erase mistakes. Once, I opened to Boedy’s younger brother - Steven Hill. I never saw him much. Well, this is my first time seeing him. Out of the mainline of the family, Boedy is the only one that goes to an actual school. The others are homeschooled by tutors from abroad. Next, I opened a room with a banquet for a small number of people. They all wore masks made of varnished wood. They looked at me, surprised at the intrusion. I closed the door as fast as I opened it and ran towards the room my brain is telling me to go.
Finally, I reached the room that satisfied me. This is it, my brain told me. My home within my home. I closed the door behind me and jumped to the bed. Ever since I got in Boedy’s body, all I have ever smelled are wood and varnish. Smelling briny musk is a change for the better.
“This is his scent, huh?” I said to myself, still regaling at the tickling vibrations in my throat.
I stood once more, now heading for the bathroom and its mirror. My ‘rival’ stared at me with his strong blue eyes. It’s not him, it’s me. But it still feels like him staring at me - I hate it. Fuck Weldon for turning him into my rival. Even though our rivalry is childish by my standards, social pressure makes my legs weak when I see him. I should not be feeling this way but my submissiveness is the anchor that pulls me down. I gulp. Fuck it. I lean closer and stare at myself more. This is me, not Boedy. I am the one pulling his cheeks and making a fool of himself. I am the one undressing his clothes and throwing them in the hamper. This is me, not him. This is me and by the heavens does his body look like a perfect sculpture.
It is unnerving how his skin tone is the same throughout his body - white all over that turns pink at the shy lick of cold wind. I am so used to having a thin body that these guns feel like heavy lumps attached to my bones. They should be heavy but I have the natural strength to lift them and squeeze them with a flex. The muscle’s strength was condensed, personified through a bulge. I did the same for another arm and kissed it. You know what? Ron is going to like this. I grabbed the phone I took out from his pants before throwing it into the hamper and took pictures of myself. I sent the pictures to our private server and I got an immediate invitation to a video call.
Ron is not in the library anymore, probably in his home uptown. He is alone and it seems he is naked in his bedroom.
“Hey man,” he said in Daniel’s signature hushed voice. It felt like years since I last heard him talk. “I knew you’d possess Boedy.”
“His body is a blast. Just look at these guns and abs,” I flexed my arms once more for him to see. He may not have his original face anymore but that is his face expressing interest and a thirst for more.
“Let me see them package, son”
Oh, yeah. That. In satiating this body ever slowly, I have forgotten the best part of the buffet. I pointed the camera downwards and focused on my uncut flaccid dick. I do not have a ruler but rudimentary measurements told me that it is as long as my hand in its flaccid state. It is half as thick as my wrist. My balls are marbles, pink pristine marbles that balled at the cusp of my hands. I pulled the foreskin revealing the tip that is pinker than my nipples and lips. I am so used to having a small member that the added length felt so surreal to me. It honestly feels like I have a third leg on my groin at this point.
“Dayum…” Ron cooed. His smile is naughtier this time. The huffs he is making means he is now in the process of pleasuring himself. If he was in his original body, I would immediately drop the call. The call remained since he is not in one. I asked him to direct the video on his entire body while I did the same.
We are two close friends, now in different bodies, masturbating in them. There’s a lotion on the sink and Ron also found his. We scooped a dollop and spared no inch of skin. I am shining from the reflection of the bathroom. My hands slid like ice on the valleys and bumps of my skin. One hand grabbed the base of my dick and shafted upwards. As it reached the tip, my other hand did the same action and so forth. I enjoyed the fact that my hand takes more than a second to reach from base to tip. This length is priceless and I am savoring it all. Thank whatever powers out there that made me experience this.
I pulled the foreskin once more. Seeing that tip never gets old for me and Ron. We grunted in an unequal rhythm. My dick is a rod of iron connected to a generator of electricity. There were tingles and soon, there were forces that made me wince in surprise and excitement. For a huge guy, I am so fucking weak to the slightest of sensations. Every jump made me even harder, hungrier for more. Then I would pump faster, making me feel more sensations. It is a cycle and I could not stop. I am a slave to this body’s whims. Everything in the world is nothing, except for this dick in my hand, and the rattling moans craning out of my throat.
“Why are your moans so fucking wet?” Ron asked. He is moaning too but it only comes in small whimpers like a kitten. Cute.
I did not answer him. He means nothing in the face of the dam that is about to break loose. I pump faster. My back bent from the sensations I am feeling. Like I am condensing to a singular point of please, ever-growing denser in every passing second. I was bent in a way that my dick is now touching my lips. Ron saw it and urged me to suck myself, and so I did.
His smell spoke truth for the taste. It tasted like the sea minus the fish, like bland meat that is only the skin. Pre-cum squeezed inside offering a free taste for the meal that is about to come. I want to moan more but it only came out as vibrations that excited me more. My mind is breaking from holding this out for so long. If this was my body, I would have cummed minutes ago. But his strength, and probably the length, is holding it back. I squeezed faster, my pumps in its most intimate yet.
It has gone for way too long but I could feel it in my bones. It is coming. Like my prior metaphor, my dick is an iron rod evolving to a tesla coil. It spazzed jizzed inside the mouth sucking it. Its warm juices spurted in a series of squirts, each one stronger than the last to a cap. It filled my mouth. I do not want to swallow it but there’s so much that I was forced to gulp some. It tasted acrid and all so good. My body is an earthquake, writhing from the euphoria shaking my entire body. Ron saw me collapse to the ground, screaming a litany of moans as I struggled to swallow more of my juice.
Fuck, those words repeated in my mind. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It feels like I broke his body. I haven’t felt this earth-shattering ejaculation ever since I had my first one. It is so broken it’s so good. I want more but the reality is setting in. As I lay on the cold tiled bathroom floor staring at the ceiling, basking in my afterglow, I knew I do not want to clean this mess. I am covered in this body’s stain, my body is weak from the battering I received and I am in an embarrassing situation. I said my real name and in a flash of a second. I was back in my body.
I was launched from the mirror and landed in the bundle of clothes I have placed earlier. The memory of the ejaculation is still fresh from my skin. So fresh, that I ejaculated in my real body. Fuck. I cleaned myself and grabbed myself a fresh pair of underwear. When I finished, I heard a thud from the dresser and saw Ron appear. By the looks of his boxers, he had the same problem as I am. I gave him a roll of napkin and gave the bathroom to himself.
---
As much as we wanted to go for another round, the night is setting and Ron didn’t tell his parents where he went. His phone has four missed calls already. Probably from his over-worried mother. We bid goodbye and awaited tomorrow with excitement. Well, we would if we don’t have classes tomorrow, which we do.