DEALER BY PROXY, PT 2: THE EXCHANGE

DEALER BY PROXY, PT 2: THE EXCHANGE

I watched him stride into the store and take off his sunglasses as he passed a rack of suits. He was suddenly unsure of himself. I had implanted the suggestion to be here at 3 pm, but nothing else.

While the clerk was distracted with another customer, I stopped pretending to browse and tuned into his stream of consciousness, willing him to let me take full control. His hands began to tremble as his hulking body grew rigid. He tipped his head back slightly as his eyes rolled up into his head.

I curled his lips into a smile. I was back.

Fiddling with his fine motor movements, he slide his sunglasses back on to hide the evidence of my entry. Try as I might, I’ve never been able to get the eyes right. Fortunately it’s also a fail-safe way to know I’m in control.

I modified the gate of his walk as he approached the salesman, copying the swagger of a hot straight guy at the gym I saw earlier. I wanted my proxy to embrace his power and cause a bit of confusion. When he approaches, you don’t know whether to run or beg him to fuck you.

Maybe both.

He reached into his pants and adjusted himself. I brought his fingers to his nose and borrowed his senses, smelling the odor of his dank, unwashed cock.

The salesman, watching him closely, stepped behind the register to hide his erection. “Can I help you, sir?”

I wanted to play with him.

My muscle-puppet slid a thick hand onto the salesman’s, resting on the counter. “I’m here to pick up an order,” he said, bringing his face uncomfortably close to the salesman. I felt the salesman’s nervous breath gust against his neck.

“Right away,” he said, breaking away quickly.

He took off his sunglasses as he shrugged the suit on in the dressing room. I examined the fit, thrilled with the ability to flex his ass as I cup it and worship the meaty bulges that threatened to tear the fabric.

Getting distracted, I glanced to make sure his eyes were still rolled back, signalling my ownership.

A perfect fit. The suit and the man.

I directed him into the bathroom and snapped a quick pic for the boss along with the text:

READY TO WORK.

The sun started to dip as I a glare caught my binoculars. Borrowing his sight from across the street, I studied the cafe from the balcony. The product was safe and sound in the BMW parked on the street, and my contact - the server on the patio - just needed the keys for the exchange.

I had him straighten his suit, adjust the meaty cock nestled in his new jock strap and slide on his sunglasses. He shot a slight grin my direction as he left the patio.

He re-emerged on the street. I guided his legs while focusing on the way his glorious body fought against the suit. Borrowing his senses, I ran his hands along his body– feeling him up from the inside– as he crossed to the restaurant.

He settled in at a table as the server approached. The older man smiled and offered, “Would you like a menu, sir?”

”Just an americano, thanks,” I grumbled through the dapper beast. He dropped his sunglasses for a moment as he said the agreed-upon signal, “It’s cold for a Tuesday.”

The server’s face dropped as a busboy brought a steaming cup of coffee. “I didn’t know you would be using a new contact.” He looked around at the other patrons suspiciously. “Just tell me who you really are and we can deal directly.”

”The other one was compromised and this one is still a little…” I adjusted the collar that was wrapped tight around his thick, muscular neck. “Stiff.”

“Who are you… really?”

“Not important,” he bit off. I flexed one of his biceps under the jacket. A subtle rip was heard. I used his other massive arm to yank on the server’s tie, bringing his face close to my proxy’s. “What’s important is that you don’t make me angry. Especially in this body.”

He let go of the frightened server as he dug the BMW’s keys out of his pocket, dropping them on the table cloth with a plunk.

“Now the money,” I said steadily. “I want to enjoy my coffee. Well… enjoy him enjoying the coffee.”

I brought teacup to his face and felt the heat lick at his nostrils. Upon taking a sip, I tasted the flavors he was experiencing. I felt the comforting hot liquid shoot down my throat.

The server snatched the keys as he pulled out his phone. Shortly, my hunk’s phone buzzed.

1.5 million bitcoins have been dropped into an untraceable account.

As the server turned to walk away, I tugged at his apron. “I could actually use your help training him tomorrow. You up for it?”

“Will I meet the real you?” he asked skeptically.

“Yes, sir,” I responded, unbuttoning a couple of his buttons and flexing his pecs, giving the older server a little taste. “But after our training session, it will only be this guy that you care about.”

He looked at me questioningly. “What made you change your mind?”

“If you try to double-cross me, Marty,” I dropped his sunglasses once again and pointed to the rolled-back eyes of the possessed man, “You will be next.”

The server gulped as he ran back inside. I borrowed the vision of the hunk once more and shot a sexy wink to another woman on the patio, then showed off a bit, twitching his massive pecs under his shirt.

Source: @the-dapper-executive

DEALER BY PROXY, PT 3: TRAINING

I heard the door slam echo through the empty gym. The treadmill continued beside me with my proxy– now given the name Giovanni– padding away at a steady rhythm. The mental suggestions I had given him kept him focused on his cardio, oblivious to everything else.

Marty, the man from the exchange the night before, wandered into view. He looked at me, then to Giovanni.

“What you’re doing is wrong, you know,” he said to me, cocking a brow. “To him. He’s a person.”

I smiled and looked to the musclehead, jogging robotically. “Giovanni is a machine. A tool, for business. My tool.”

Gio turned off the treadmill and slowed to a stop. His expression remained slack.

Then he began to tremble as I took over. Every muscle spasming as control was ceded to me. He threw his head back in a loud howl as his eyes rolled back, then his head dropped forward.

Marty watched with a morbid fascination as Gio’s thick neck jolted, then slowly twisted his head toward him. An evil smile peeled away at his face. “See?” He boomed, bringing his hands to his eyes, “All mine.”

Marty turned from Gio to me. “And you’re in control right now?”

“Remotely,” I answered in my own voice. “I can tap in when I need to, borrowing his senses.”

Gio slipped off his hoodie and let his sweats drop to the floor revealing a red tank and a black pair of athletic shorts.

“And the coolest thing…” Gio grumbled, “Show him.”

I reached out to Marty and placed a hand on his arm. He cried out as Gio’s head jerked to the side. Gio began to moan softly.

“What’s wrong with him?” Gio asked. Marty looked shocked. His words came out of the bodybuilder’s mouth.

“Try him out,” I encouraged.

Marty’s eyes rolled back as he borrowed Gio’s vision. The massive man stumbled curiously to the mirror, face frozen in disbelief.

“I can feel everything,” Gio groaned, pulling at his tank-top and flexing his arms.

I pulled Marty after me as I crossed to Gio, possessed by the waiter and admiring himself. Placing an hand on his boulder of a bicep, I leaned in, taking in the musky cologne I had chosen for Giovanni. Then I kissed him softly on the neck. Gio looked at me with wide eyes. I caressed the fur on his square jaw, then took him into a deep kiss. I felt his cock stir against me leg. I let go of Marty’s arm and he came too. “Whoa!” He shouted. “That was…” ”Addictive, wasn’t it?” I asked with a smirk. ”What am I doing here?” Gio asked, suddenly conscious. I waved him lazily toward the heavy weights. He dutifully grabbed a set of dumbbells and let out a strained wail as he worked through a set of curls.

”Why do you need me again?” Marty asked. ”To put Gio through the paces,” I said. “He needs a little more conditioning for the illusion to be seamless. When I take over, no one should be able to tell the difference. He’s just been ‘handed off’, so that’s one thing out of the way.” Gio suddenly dropped the weights and sat down on a bench. His head began to shake violently as his eyes rolled upward.

My body dropped limply to the floor as Marty cried out.

“Don’t worry,” I said through Gio. “I’m fully inside of…” I motioned to the slab of beef I am currently wearing, “Him.”

Marty’s mouth dropped open, “So you’re…”

“100%,” I drawled. “But I do this rarely. The longer I’m in, the harder it is to leave and the harder he fights.”

I grabbed him by the hand. “Follow me.”

As we stepped out onto the upper deck, I examined his body once more.

Then dropped Gio’s shorts to the ground. Marty’s eyes lit up as he saw my beefy cock stand at attention.

“I’ve mastered a lot of things in this body, but I still need to get sex right.” I lifted my arms behind my head, delighting the sinewy bubbles that rose on arms.

Marty stared back at me, confused.

“What are you waiting for?! Suck.”

Chronivac Implant

A few weeks ago, my roommate Dylan went through a body swap procedure. Beforehand he was even nerdier than me, and now he's in the body of a jock. The first day he came back was hilarious because he was huge and ripped, but still so goofy and shy and embarrassed of himself somehow. Over the next weeks we both thought he'd grow into it, but actually he just got increasingly anxious and uncomfortable. He said he now felt like an imposter in his own body and he's felt panicky the whole time.

Apparently this type of rejection can happen sometimes so he went back to the clinic and got an additional post-surgery treatment. Part was some therapy sessions on how to embrace his new body, and part was the Chronivac Implant. A small, pill-sized device was implanted just below his ear near to the brain and spinal cord. The device controlled various functions to allow him to adapt more naturally to his body.

When he got back from the clinic he told me all this and said he'd enrolled to the Jock program. He seemed a whole lot more relaxed about the whole thing now. How whole demeanor was different and more calm, which I was glad about.

The first few weeks were interesting. Dylan told me that the Implant rewarded certain behaviors by promoting the release of certain neurotransmitters and blocking others. Clearly it was blocking whatever what making him anxious becuase that seemed to disappear almost overnight. Day by day he started getting more confident too. Instead of wearing baggy clothes, he'd started wearing less and less around the apartment and checking himself out more in the mirrors. Apparently that was something that was being rewarded.

His interests seemed to be evolving too. He told me he was a bit bummed one week because he kept trying to finish off a novel he was reading for a literature class but he was finding it so boring and reading kept giving him a headache and made him anxious now. His therapist (or "coach" as they were termed) said he needed to keep pushing himself to read, but eventually he just gave up with reading altogether because it was just making him feel worse and he was getting to the point where he had to keep re-reading the same bit repeatedly, and even then he couldn't make much sense of it. It seemed he found it harder and harder to concentrate on written text and said, in a somewhat bitter tone, that it made him feel dumb. That implant really did seem to be changing him a lot. And this was just the beginning.

***

(Want to read more about Dylan's Implant journey?)

"It's the shoes that complete the look."

The nerd who had just taken possession of Bailey rolled his head around on Bailey’s broad neck and then proceeded to thoroughly stretch out his entire body from head-to-toe.

“It’s good to be back inside you, Bailey,” the nerd spoke through Bailey’s lips.

The words came out flawlessly duplicated in Bailey’s masculine voice, along with its dumb sounding gym-bro drawl. The nerd cleared his throat, absorbing even more of the bodybuilder’s delicious voice for himself. He stood up from the bed and paraded himself shirtless over to the nearest mirror. Each footstep felt like moving a colossal mountain. In front of him, he saw the hulking image of a professional bodybuilder; It was Bailey’s body, but it belonged to the nerd now.

The nerd pulled a front double biceps pose in the mirror, spreading his lats wide and fully flexing at the top to reveal an intimidating pair of anatomically defined muscle peaks. He flexed harder, twisting Bailey’s straight-boy face into a tight, overconfident sneer. Sweat began to drip from his brow. Soon, his muscles were burning all over, and blood was pumping through him everywhere; Having this body was like being in a literal suit of meat.

“I know the first place I’m going,” the nerd drooled at seeing the muscle man in the mirror copying his every move, “I’m taking this body to the gym, bro!”

The nerd used Bailey’s big hands to grab at various pieces of gym clothing which had been previously worn and tossed around the room. It was easy to replicate Bailey’s usual look: A black baseball cap, a skintight black tank top, and a pair of black compression pants. But the look wasn’t complete yet.

“Where are they?”

The nerd searched the apartment and found Bailey’s signature pair of red gym shoes waiting for him by the front door. He picked them up in one athletic swoop, sat down, and then slid his feet inside the sneakers one-by-one.

He let his toes wiggle around and then pressed them down into the well-worn insoles of each shoe. They fit him like he wore them to the gym every day. It was no wonder they were Bailey’s favorite pair, but now they, too, belonged to the nerd.

“There we go.”

The nerd laced the shoes tightly and stood himself back up. When he looked in the mirror again, he saw himself fully reflected as an exact image of the bodybuilder.

“That's it. Now I’m you, bro,” he said to his reflection, “Don't you agree? I think it's the shoes that complete the look.”