I was walking through a city, trying to get home after a day of work. This body was not
one I enjoyed living in; it was weak and small and my job was to work in a generic fast-
food restaurant, earning minimum wage so I could afford my cheap apartment. Scurrying
absent-mindedly, I bumped into a bigger man.
"Hey, asshole, you looking for a fight?" The huge stud turned around and picked me up
effortlessly, lifting my 5 foot body into the air until I was face-to-face with the 7 foot tall
behemoth, "What do we have here? A faggot, huh?" He stared in my eyes, and I knew it
happened. "You want to worship this god like all the other queers, huh?"
The guy had a handsome face; blonde hair, blue eyes, and strong features. Definitely a
jock. His freakishly muscular body didn't hurt, each muscle bulging visibly under that
black muscle tee, even though it was probably 3XL. He saw me examining him and,
mistaking me for a gay, threw me on the floor. My head bumped on the concrete first,
and then the guy raised his foot and curb-stomped me. I cried out, but no one helped
me- everyone else was either laughing at me, or too scared by the young musclegod to
do anything. He picked me up again and punched me in the guts. My last memories were
him beating my corpse until all that was left was my soul.
A week later, I would inhabit the stud's body...