Timothy spared no gallon of thought on whom he’d swap with. He touched the nearest guy around and transferred his mind in a zap. It is faster this time around. He opened his eyes and awoke to a guy's body floating right around his age. He’s got a glimpse of his looks before he transferred. This guy’s pale with freckles peppered on his face and chest. Dense brown curls make up his hair. His limbs are skinny, but Timothy is glad his stamina is replenished. Just as he thought. The fatigue doesn’t carry over to his new body.
“You’ve transferred,” Pickle said with no hint of surprise in his tone. He didn't even raise his head to look. He kept on sponging halfway through a new row of bodies. “You’re going to keep doing that since you’re new. Do be careful though,”
“Why?” Timothy looked over to where Pickle was. Pickle wasn’t answering. “What do you mean? Why should I be careful?”
Pickle did that little motion where he raises both shoulders with a trailing “eh,”. “I was thinking of telling you myself. But I think experience is a better teacher. You’re in one such trap right now.”
Timothy looked around and found nothing. He looked at his arms, then to his legs, then explored every inch of his naked skin. There’s nothing except for this feeling swelling inside of him. It’s hot and ravenous. It’s a feeling he recognizes whenever he is alone in the middle of the night, thinking of the men who helped him in the streets. It reminded him of those handsome half-naked underwear models on the billboard. He remembered that one drunk stranger pushed him off the floor, but sadly collapsed before he could do the thing Timothy begged him to do.
Yes. He was horny.
“I call them libido traps,” Timothy said with amusement in his voice. “ Some of these bodies are decades old. The one you jumped in is a couple hundred. Can you imagine the number of hormones that are begging to be released? And he’s Greek too. You just picked a nice combination there, amigo.”
Timothy wanted to immediately jump to another body. He has a job to do, and it’s a disservice to his employer to do what his mind is asking him to do. He wanted to but he can’t. He mustn’t. He closed his eyes as his body collapsed to the ground. He must control these carnal desires. These feelings are bubbling, begging to be released. But in the midst of his struggles, he felt someone grab him by the dick. He opened his eyes to see a far larger one. Far hairier which must be the reason for the way he stinks. They have the same height but Timothy’s stomach pales in comparison to that belly.
“Pi- pickle! What are you doing?”
“Can’t blame you for this,” Pickle laughed. “Don’t worry. Let those desires of yours run free. I won’t judge. And besides, I’m Greek too. Let’s be ensnared by this trap together.”
Pickle drowned himself in Timothy’s lips. His light stubble grazes the smaller one’s lips. He smelled of alcohol with an overbearing smell of sweat. Of all the bodies he could pick, he made sure to pick the smelliest he could immediately find. And he’s glad to see that his choice paid off well. Timothy was enshrouding himself with the smell. He breathed in and deep.
“Oh, dear Zeus.” He thought yet said out loud.
“The inner Greek in you is leaking,” Pickle laughed with his gruff voice. “I love it.”
Their bodies wrestled on the floor, clutching each other’s skin as they devoured the pungent taste of the other. In their struggle, they hit the bucket of sudsy water, lathering themselves in soap. Bubbles foamed between their skin, making them slippery and moist. This made it easier for Pickle to slip his throbbing dick inside of Timothy’s ample yet firm bosom. Timothy screamed, his pink supple lips quivering in pain, anticipation, and lust. He buried himself in the lush forest that was Pickle’s chest hair as his insides were ripped and rearranged. Despite the screams of pain, there was a pleasure and the truth of his hunger - begging for more, begging for his master to go deeper. Their bodies meld, squirming and groaning. The feelings were so much that Pickle couldn't help but bite into the other’s neck, leaving a large pink pockmark.
“I- I'm close, Timothy.”
“S-so am I,”
Together, they cummed. One filling the inside of the other, while the other emptied gallons in a lush hairy forest. They cuddled together, making more of the soapy foam that diminished their scent. They ended with a kiss before promptly returning to their jobs.
While Timothy enjoyed it, he can’t believe that he shamed himself in front of his master like that. At least this new body and the one Pickle used were cleaned by the end of it. But it’s still embarrassing to get fucked by his master even though he wanted it.