Stefano Knows Something Is Wrong, But He Cannot Tell Exactly Whats That. While Stefanos Mind Wandered

Stefano knows something is wrong, but he cannot tell exactly what’s that. While Stefano’s mind wandered to this weird sensation he has all day long, Remy is slowly tugging his cock as he taps for an enhanced vision to look for his roommate (now boyfriend). Remy yelped in his seat as his softly erect cock instantly reached its full mast the moment he sees how well Stefano’s already are. Hahah, even he already call that dork Stefano instead of his previous name Stephan. Just look at him, trying to decipher why he feels like he’s having a very weird day, of course dummy, you grew 5 inches taller, 70 pounds heavier and turned into an Argentinian-descent hairy sex beast instead of your…..rather plain form, thought Remy, his tugging becomes faster than ever.

A flood of memories hit Remy’s head as his surrounding also changed. Still in the same apartment but the interior has been altered to fit this new reality of living with such a hot horny boyfriend instead of his very neat and organized roommate. The full cabinet filled with books Stephan reduced in its size as it only stored some fitness magazines and some old college textbook Stefano never even bother to open. History of him woken up in the middle of the night to witness the Stephan stressed about his work as he typed on his analysis, briefs, reports or whatever, erased from Remy’s head as his political researcher roommate nowadays stressed because the gyms were closed for quite a long period of time due to the pandemic and Stefano’s almost lost his gym trainer’s job before switching to virtual coaching. And sometimes when Stefano stressed, he would fuck the shit out of Remy and all of those sensation really hit Remy in one sweeping flood of altered memories. He shot his load to that but the memory altering didn’t stop there as he now realized that he really loved to sniff on his boyfriend’s musk. Remy didn’t expect himself to be such a pig to other man’s musk, his desperate attempt to keep his old self eventually failed and he nows holding his boyfriend’s unwashed jockstrap to his nose. Ohhhhh the smell is so exhilarating as he shot yet another volley of cum that landed to the heavily used couch, the place where he mostly jerk himself off to his boyfriend’s musk to spend his days or getting fucked by his sweaty boyfriend who skipped shower in the gym and always fucked Remy in the couch first thing he arrived before doing another one right before bed. The change of reality also affected Remy’s physique. He’s still a witch and knows his witchcraft, but he’s also buffer as his boyfriend put him into a rigorous workout in attempt to make him a gym bunny type of guy or some sort. The witch now packed on some hefty, juics pecs and rather strong frame due to the workout and eating regimen his boyfriend put him under

Still in the middle of his wanking session, a FaceTime from Stefano appeared, oh shit, he’s such a mess, he even got cum in his hair and he’s close to shoot this one! Ohhh boy, but not answering the phone will make Stefano’s pissed. But isn’t pissed Stefano gives the best fuck?

Going Green

"Microtransactions!"

Charles looked around the board members.

"Micro. Transactions. Have you ever heard of that? Anyone?"

Slowly, heads nodded.

"Oh, good! So, you *have* heard of them. Does anyone care to explain to me then why our games barely have any? In fact, I have yet to see *any* microtransaction revenue from our latest release."

"But Sir, 'Orcs and Morcs' is a single player game - and not for a mobile platform, too. It doesn't even have an online connection. It would be highly unusual."

Charles M. Anderson cut the engineer up with a gesture. He didn't even know the other man's name, which wasn't too unusual. Even though he was the CEO of GreenGames for six months now, he didn't bother to learn his subordinates names until they proved useful. And this unnamed engineer could be happy if he still had a job after this meeting.

"I don't care about your techno-babble. Microtransactions is where the money is, so I want them in our products. *All* our products. And make sure to make them mandatory for any progress, too."

Charles usually talked about "Releases" and "Products". To him, video games were just a product like any other. Of course *he* didn't play any of those silly games, games were for children and losers. He only cared for the numbers, the graphs and revenues.

"What about the backlash? I mean, I understand that you want to generate more revenue, but GreenGames is known for providing high quality games that *don't* try to rip their customers off."

"So?"

"So, this could be bad publicity for us. Really bad."

Charles looked around the table and noticed most of the other board members nodding.

"Listen up, everyone. I think there is some misunderstanding here. You think that I care about our customers. I really don't, as long as they continue to buy our products. There is no such thing as bad publicity. So, I don't tell you how to draw your silly ogres and you don't try to meddle in the business aspect of the company, okay?"

Even though the inflection suggested a question, it was perfectly clear that it was neither a question nor a request. Again, heads nodded and tried to avoid eye contact. Good. Respect was very important for a leader.

One woman spoke up. Charles suspected her to be some lead writer or something.

"It's orcs, Sir."

Charles blinked. "What are you trying to say?"

"You said ogres, but our games are about orcs. That is our thing, we make games about orcs."

"There is no difference between orcs, ogres, unicorns and all that whimsy stuff. Leave me alone with your fantasy crap."

"But there is another thing. You are responsible for the story of our products?"

The woman agreed with a careful: "Yes, Sir?"

Charles looked her straight in the eye. "It has come to my attention that there are certain woke elements in our products. As a story writer, I expect you to take care of that."

"What... do you mean by woke? And by taking care of that?"

Charles sighed. Why was everyone so incompetent?

"Apparently, there is same-sex smut in our products, some even have pronouns. That crap needs to disappear asap. It is 'go woke go broke', after all."

The writer woman looked at Charles incredulously. "But Sir! Same-Sex romances are a well-accepted part of the industry for *decades* now. And it's not like the player has to engage in that, too. It's just an option - an option we actually received much praise for in the past. And about the pronouns... It's just a setting that influences some dialogues on how the player character is referred to. Again, it is perfectly possible to play as a straight green cis male if that's what you want to do."

Charles shook his head, his voice now dangerously low. "One more word of that, miss, and you can start looking for a new job. 84% of our customer base is male, and male customers want to see boobs, that's a fact. I won't tolerate wasting company resources on pacifying some noisy minority and alienating our main audience."

"But sir!" the writer woman objected.

Charles' look silenced her.

"One more word and you're out. We'll find another writer. Someone who does the job and keeps their mouth shut. This meeting is over. I expect results end of next week."

Nobody dared to speak up when everybody left the meeting room, and Charles returned to his office. What a productive meeting.

Just as he turned to his computer to check today's KPIs, he noticed a new email.

From: Employee Council

To: Charles M. Anderson

Subject: Going Green

Body:

Dear Mr. Anderson,

we here at GreenGames would like to take the opportunity to point out some concerns about your leadership role.

We have noticed a disturbing development since your takeover and would like to remind you of the values we stand for at GreenGames. We like creating games, and we identify with the work we do. Our players are important to us, and we strife to be open and accessible for everyone. Just like the protagonists in our games, we have honor and use our strengths to better the world. You in particular should be the living embodiment of this ideal. Please take this chance to re-think your methods and decisions and "go green" for real.

Sincerely,

The Employee Council.

Charles was outraged. How dared those subordinates criticizing him? He reached for his phone, ready to phone his secretary to find out who this "Employee Council" was but was interrupted by a ripping sound.

The right arm of his expensive suit jacket had ripped at the shoulder, which was unusual. He would have to have a stern talk with the tailor. Charles stood up and took off his jacket - or at least, he tried to. It was like the piece of clothing was way too small all of a sudden. He finally managed to get out of it, but only with several more rips in the fabric. Charles loosened his tie. He was sweating like mad, and when he looked down on himself, he was in utter disarray. His shirt looked like it was several numbers too small and as he was watching, one button after the other flew off with an audible "pling", exposing his torso underneath.

But was it really his torso? Not only was it *bigger*, it also looked way *hairier*. Charles had never been a man with much body hair, but now, he looked down on a stomach that was showing visible abs covered with a dense treasure trail of dark hairs. They continued upwards where they met with a true forest of curly dark hair that covered the slabs of pecs that were still growing as Charles watched.

He had to loosen his tie again before taking it off entirely. All of his clothes felt constricting, so, he peeled himself out of his shirt, too. His expensive watch was interrupting his growth painfully, but Charles was too occupied to notice, let alone care. With a dull cracking noise, the leather strap broke, and the watch flew across the room, hitting the opposite wall.

As Charles continued to grow, the chair underneath him creaked, but, again, he had other things to worry about. His lower body was still covered by his dress pants and shoes, but that was getting tight, too. His shoes especially were getting painful, and it was a relief when the front broke, exposing large muscular feet and toes. His pants were filled to the brim with heavy, muscled legs now, but there was another region where the capacity had been reached. His groin formed an obscene bulge. That alone would have probably fit - barely - but it was accompanied by an unusual feeling. Charles didn't *mind* his extreme change. In fact, the hyper masculine body turned him on, even. He watched as a dick print became clearly visible outlined against his groin, as his cock grew hard. It pulsed, once, and Charles felt a spurt of precum soak into his boxer shorts. A wet patch became apparent as the liquid seeped through his pants - all from a single spurt. His dick pulsed again, and Charles' head began to swim. The air in the room was thick with sweat and testosterone by now, and Charles groaned from arousal. Man, what would he give for a nice firm manly ass right now, giving him a lap dance.

Wait, what? Manly ass?

But it was true! Every time, Charles tried to think about sexy girls, but all that came to mind were men. Burly, hairy men, twinkish shaved men, green-skinned ogre-man. No, not ogres, he corrected himself. Orcs.

As he thought this word, his dick pulsed again and made Charles almost cry out from arousal. He couldn't restrain himself anymore. He *ripped* apart his dress pants and lowered his boxer shorts that looked like a pair of briefs on his massive body now, releasing a gigantic stiff rod and a matching set of heavy balls - along with a whole cloud of manly, musky smell that made Charles even hornier than before.

He closed his gigantic hand around his shaft and moved it up and down, in a slow, barely constrained motion. He had almost come by that one stroke, so horny was his mind. Fascinatedly, he watched as his cock and balls took on a deep, green color. It looked almost like a cucumber, or the penis of the incredible hulk. Or... an orc. As he moved his strong hand up and down again, the green started to spread in all directions.

Yes! There was no doubt: He was becoming a big, strong, sexy orc! Charles let all restraints fall away and started pumping in earnest now. With each stroke, the green spread, until his entire torso was of a rich green color. His head felt a pressure as his facial structure reformed, and his ears grew long and pointy. His hair lost darkened and grew out into a wild mohawk-like hairstyle. At the same time, a black beard sprouted around his entire jaw, underlining his masculinity.

Meanwhile, the green had swept across his arms and legs, quickly eliminating any leftover pink spots. The green color looked incredibly hot under the coat of dense, manly hair, and Charles felt himself getting closer. He grunted with each stroke like an animal and where his muscular green body touched the furniture or his executive chair, it left a film of manly sweat. Finally, he felt a short bit of pain on his ears and nipples, as small metal piercings appeared there: Short studs in his ears and small rings in his nipples.

That sent him over the edge. With a final bellow, he came, mightily. His large green balls contracted and his massive cock spew cum everywhere: All over his stomach, his chest, his furniture, even his face!

Charr panted in the afterglow of his orgasm. He was the epitome of virility and although he had just cummed all over his office, his mind kept creeping back to sexy guys again. He would be able to go again, soon - but that had to wait a bit. He used the remains of his suit to clean up a bit (although it was still clearly visible and smellable what happened here), stuffed his mighty tool into the cum-stained underwear and reached for the phone.

"Please send the board to my office, I want to issue an honorable apology, and announce our new strategy." He rumbled with his new, low voice. After a moment of consideration, he added: "And please send someone to install our games on my PC."

He rubbed his hands. This would usher in a whole new era for GreenGames - with the greenest possible CEO.

I have the feeling that a lot of companies could benefit greatly from a bit of a greener leadership!

I really don't know why I agreed to go to the big college party tonight. Coulda just stayed and studied... God I'm getting anxiety. This app's probably a scam but maybe it'll have some placebo affect. I wish I was the kinda guy that fit in at these parties. I wish I could forget being some socially anxious pathetic nerd and just loosen up. Ugh it's so embarrassing I'm even venting to an AI, wish I could forget ever doing this too while I'm at it...

New Life to Live

You suddenly found yourself at the party, every and anything that happened before you arrived there was wiped from your memory.

You were the most popular person there, a popular get as the hottest leather model on the internet was gracing his lowly college's biggest party of the year.

People anf fans flocked to you, anxious no more in fact you enjoyed getting up close and personal with your fans, especially you male fans as they often wanted o get a fell of your leather and your hard body beneath it. Usually at functions like this you'd end up having sex or blow jobs by a handful of guys, but tonight you'd be extra busy as the guys at this party was extremely horny and wanted to get into you tight leather.

Fuck you thought as the mob of guys led you to the back where you proceed to engage in a wild orgy. You loved the attention, was this how all parties you attended ended up? If so this would not be the last one you attend. Fuck what a great new life!

Master

It had only been a week since the last time I had seen him, so why is my normally scrawny dorm mate and best bro standing in front of me… changed?

Rufus had always been an… interesting kind of guy. Not that that’s a bad thing, it’s just… he’s always been a little different from the rest of us bros. Can’t hate him though, known that guy since Elementary School. He’s a brother to me. He’s always been shy, quieter than the other bros in our group so was no surprise to me when he came out as gay. Of course I had no problem with it, just cause I’m a straight jock doesn’t mean i’m an asshole! Anyways, it didn’t change anything between us and we respected each other’s boundaries since he was my best friend. But the dude in front of me right now, that’s not my bro.

“Dudeeee Spring Break was so sick! It was totally life changing man, when I went on that trip with my fam I found this little plant and dude ever since I touched it I just feel brand new, you feel?” Rufus rambled on, saying this as he relaxed back against the dorm wall, revealing his bushy pits.

Instantly this smell hit my nose, catching me by surprise. Usually Rufus was this clean freak who made sure he smelled like roses and babies and shit, even making sure I washed up properly. He hated stink! “Rufus-“

“Nahhh man just call me Roof, that names sooo uptight!” he briefly interrupted.

“Alright Roof…” I paused, adjusting to the name, “I mean you do look brand new, and you’re acting well brand new too? Haven’t you seen yourself?”

A confused look spread across his face, “Aw thanks bro! I’m happy you finally brought up the ‘stache — I’ve been growin’ it out! And I think maybe I’m just more chill cuz of spring break, still pretty relaxed now y’know?”

Now I was the one confused. “Bro do you really not notice anything different about yourself?”

My best friend seemed concerned for me now, “You trippin’ bro? I mean I’m the same old Roof as always?”

This was driving me nuts. One, my best friend, who is normally a scrawny, nerdy guy looks like if you took him and turned him into huge dumb muscular oaf. Two, he stinks, which Rufus never does. And three, he doesn’t notice anything different?”

“Hey man,” The man who says he’s Rufus but ISN’T Rufus slowly said, “You seem a little stressed. Maybe you just gotta chill out, like me…” I looked up a smile slowly start to creep across his dumb face and suddenly, the entire room felt… damp.

In the sense of both wet and humid… and also kind of heavy. Almost like… my brain was slowing down… growing kinda tired… it was so hot in here… and it smells so bad… so fucking stinky. Pushing through this… trying to open up… window…

As I sluggishly made my way over to the dorm room window and reached to open it, Roof spoke commandingly, “Nah man leave it closed.”

I stopped in my tracks. My body wasn’t moving anymore. I was frozen. A wave of panic and anxiety washed over me, what the hell was going on??

I was able to move my eyes, glancing over to Roof as terror filled my mind. “Don’t worry, you’re okay bro. Just come on over here” he beckoned with his a motion of his hand.

Suddenly all the worry in my mind vanished and I felt perfectly fine, other than the odor in the room. I held in my breath as I made my way over to Roof the smell becoming more and more pungent as I drew closer. I stopped in front of him, looking him in the eye I noticed there was an aura of confidence in them I didn’t recognize.

“You don’t like the smell bro? C’mon just try it. Breathe in it for a second,” Roof urged, scratching his wiry pit hair, causing more odor to escape from the bush.

My tensed muscle instantly relaxed, following his suggestion. I closed my eyes and began to breathe in the putrid odor his body was emanating. It smelled like cheese, eggs, sweat, farts, and protein — everything the locker room does after a long practice. Weirdly enough, I could pick up on some hidden notes, a taste of spice and the tropics. Even weirder, I started to like it. I could feel sweat drip from my brow, the room getting much stuffier and hotter. I began to take in deeper breaths, the mix of Roof’s stink and oxygen clouding my mind as I tried to keep myself from passing out.

“That’s it bro… keep breathing it in. Keep breathing me in.”

I opened my eyes to find my body had slumped to the ground, muscles weak and on my knees in front of Roof. The weight of the air around us kept me on the ground, I could barely muster the strength to get up or even move. He was looking down at me with a face full of pride and a sense of dominance. I felt… content.

He ripped off his sweat soaked wifebeater, tearing through it easily with his muscles. Tossing the shreds ti the side, he began to flex his bicep right above my face and suddenly another wave of must hit me. This time however it was stronger, even more mind-fucking, like inhaling him straight from the source. Droplets of his salty sweat began to fall on my face, one by one, and all feelings of disgust went out the window. Without command, I closed my eyes, opened my mouth, and stuck my tongue out to catch them. I heard Roof let out a dumb chuckle from above as he watched with content. I could feel my dick hardening in my shorts. I didn’t care. I didn’t care how gay this was, how stupid and weak I look on my knees, all I cared about was this.

As the foreign liquid fell into my mouth, my eyes shot open with disgust. The taste was sweet, putrid, salty, like spoiled juice left in a dumpster out in the rain and yet so addicting. The couple droplets I had tasted acted as an energy shot as I jumped up off my knees and brought my tongue straight into his hairy armpits. Grabbing his onto his flexed bicep for support, I raked my tongue across the bushy coils and wet skin, taking in every rancid flavor and droplet. Taking a deep breath in of his stink, the smell was heavenly now. I couldn’t live without it. A warm feeling began to fill my stomach as I lapped up more of his sweat while my mind became completely fogged as I huffed his musk. I could feel my rock hard boner was straining against my shorts, begging to be let go.

“Good boy,” Roof whispered into my ear. Almost like a trigger word for some sleeper agent, I slumped back onto my knees as my mind went blank and my eyes glossed over.

It was some dream state. Indescribable. Pure bliss. I couldn’t hear or see anything, just blurbs and slight movements. I picked up on bits of what Roof was saying. I could hear him pacing around me in the small dorm room. “Finally … waited all these years … in love with you … but you … straight … can’t handle … anymore … now you’re mine.”

With those final words my eyes fluttered open. I was on my knees on the floor of my dorm room. I looked up and there he was. Master was standing in front of me.

“Who’s a good boy?” He smirked as he began pulling his sweatpants down — he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

His pubes created a blanket of dark grass from which his cock sprouted from and balls hung. I stared at it intently, like a dog eyeing a meat stick hungrily. It was thick and girthy, like an uncut sausage hanging downwards and from the scent I was picking up, I could tell I was going to find a treasure trove of cheese if I rolled back the skin. His balls were perfect, filled with my master’s seed. I had one purpose, please him.

I wrapped my lips around his manhood and began to go to town, bobbing my head up and down. I rolled back the skin to reveal his perfect head and I assumed correctly. I looked up at my Master with happiness as he smirked, placing his hands in my hair as he guided me down the shaft. I swirled my tongue as I went down, picking up all the cheesy goodness and tasting every flavor imaginable. With ease I made it down to his pubes, his 10 inches in my throat — Master trained me well. I sniffed his musky carpet before my master’s hands pushed me back to the tip of his cock. Rinse and repeat, each with a different level of feverish desire. Master bobbed me up and down his dick, using me as nothing more than a toy. I didn’t care. I loved it. I could feel his tangy pre-cum as it started to lubricate the inside of my mouth, preparing for the arrival of his seed. I rolled my eyes back from pure pleasure of his taste. Back - forth - back - forth, he continuously thrust into my mouth and down my throat, gripping my hair like handles. I felt nothing more than ecstasy when he treated me this way. Finally I could feel his cock twitch in my mouth, and he slowed his pace allowing me to catch my breath and regain some autonomy in the situation. I wrapped both my hands around his shaft, the girth akin to a coke can, and placed my lips on his tip and began to suck again. Almost as if beckoning the seed to spout from the hole, my master’s hot moans escaped his mouth, telling me I should go on. With one final pop, his seed exploded into my mouth, filling me with the highest honor of being his slave.

He continuously pumped into my mouth groaning loudly as he did so, it had to have been seven or eight times until he finally had run out. Similar to his sweat, I could feel this warm sensation as his seed slipped down my throat as I swallowed his load. Suddenly I felt my form begin to change. I jutted my ass backwards, feeling it expand and balloon with the perfect amount of muscle and fat to keep my Master satisfied. I flexed my thighs as they grew meatier while my hips widened to bear Master’s children. Sweat dripped between my cheeks and into my crack, tickling and stimulating my asshole, beginning what would soon be my life long yearning for cock to fill my hole. I was becoming perfectly sculpted to my Master’s desires, and I was so happy.

My head throbbed with pain as memories and intelligence, anything I knew about myself for the past 20 years of my life was dissolved into my balls. I could feel my erection becoming harder and harder and my balls churning until I blew my load, all over the dorm floor. Almost instantly after, the dick I once used to conquest women turned into a pathetic excuse for a manhood. The sensation in my body dissipated and my muscles relaxed, cementing my physique and rendering my dick at an almost unusable state. That’s okay, I won’t need it.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Bad boy… look at what you did to my floor.” I heard Master’s voice scolding me from above.

I hung my head low with embarrassment as I got on all fours and groveled at his smelly feet, “I’m so sorry Master, please forgive me.”

As I looked back up, I could see as Master Roof grabbed his cock and jerked it, and suddenly he was back at full mast. I licked my lips with both hunger and happiness, looks like he was in a good mood today.

He smirked when he saw the lust in my eyes, “Let’s see how many loads it’ll take to get you pregnant.”

Cowboi

Callum was a freshly 18 year old city boy whose family had recently been relocated to the Deep South for a job opportunity. One day, while walking through a farmer’s market with his family, he saw a strange old man selling a vial of strange pink liquid. Callum was curious and approached the man, who promised that the potion could grant him any wish he desired.

“You’re lying, and as if I’d just drink random pink goo from some country hick!”

“I’ll tell you what, you can have it for free if you tell your friends about me.”

Callum scoffed, grabbed the potion and walked away to go catch up with his family.

“Boi could learn some southern hospitality” muttered the old man

————

Much later in the day, Alex was checking himself out. Despite his features being sharp, Callum didn’t have an ounce of facial hair, his flabby arms and muffin top left much to be desired.

“Man… if I were thin I could be a model.”

His brain threw him back to earlier, he patted his pocket and there was the same vial he grabbed earlier.

“Worth a shot… I guess?”

He gulped it down in one swallow and instantly began to feel tingly all over.

“It’s working? It’s WORKING?!! That must be the fat leaving my body!”

Callum’s stomach let out the loudest grumble he had ever heard.

“So… hungry…. This must be how it works”

Callum walked himself to the kitchen and devoured everything in sight. He had 3 bowls of cereal, a loaf of bread, a tub of ice cream and a bag of cookies. It still wasn’t enough.

As Callum was shoveling food into his mouth his arm brushed up against his nipple and he let out a moan.

“Wha? It’s so- it’s so sensitive!”

Callum’s formerly lithe body had blown up with a mix of fat and muscle, his densely hairy stomach hanging out of now his now much too small shirt, as his chest (now what could only be described as tits) started to wet his shirt with a milky pink substance

“What in tarnation?” Callum grumbled with a new southern drawl, several octaves lower than even his father.

Callum ran back to his room and looked in the mirror only to see an absolute bull of a man standing tall and wide, with broad shoulders and a barrel chest that was heaving with pink perky nipples, streaming with a sweet sticky fluid.

His face is dominated by a thick and bushy beard that cascades down from his chin and covers much of his neck. The beard is well-groomed, but it still looks wild and untamed, giving him an air of roughness and toughness.

His skin is sun-weathered and tan, with deep lines etched around his eyes and mouth from years of squinting into the sun and smiling through long days of hard work. His hands are rough and calloused, with fingers that look like they were made for gripping tools and working with the land.

Even his clothes had changed at this point, instead of his favourite stüssy shirt and skinny jeans he was now wearing sturdy work boots, faded jeans, and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his muscular forearms.

He had to get out of there, his family wasn’t going to recognise him like this- and he knew for a fact his father had a gun.

Callum ran through the night, his surroundings looking more and more familiar to him as his life as a city boy was quickly draining from his head.

After hours of running, letting out quick moans each time he accidentally brushed up against his chest- he came across a dinky little farmhouse. He was so lost, and it just felt like… home.

He knocked on the door, and not a moment later it flung open, the old man from earlier standing there.

“Pa!” Callum bellowed as if it had always been true, the final memories of his old life sinking down into his chest, trickling down his hirsute abdomen and thighs.

“Now you listen here, boi! You know you belong in the barn. You’re a cow boi, you don’t belong in the house with us humans! Now get you and your udders back to the barn right now, you hear?! Slop will be served soon, you must be starving- you can’t of eaten for what? 30 minutes?” The old man slapped Callum’s belly laughing.

“Yes Pa” Callum, soon to be known only as boi, worriedly agreed as he walked to his new home where he would spend his days being milked, fed and bred amongst the other livestock.

The old man chuckled, admiring the boi’s wide back and thick behind as he walked away.

“I never said whose wish would be granted- at least he’s learnt some manners.”

Mr. Stanton's Log

Day 1: I was tasked to perform a routine swap with another one of our clients over in Taipei as he was scheduled to spend his vacation over here in California. His record's not stellar, with accounts of spending an odd two or three days over the two-week limit and basically endangering whoever he swapped with to undergo permanent mental changes as a result. Usually this would cut them off from the program, but he is one of the top donors to our cause, and he is a favorite of many here. I have no idea why to be honest, must be a charmer. To be fair, I've been...skipping a few days just to relax and have some time to myself. But I DO need the money so, here I am. Just hoping this..."Yang" guy won't do anything foolish while in my body. Lucky guy though, he's going to be stuck in someone handsome.

----------------------------------------------------

Day 2: The procedure went according to plan. They gave me a small mouth piece disguised as some teeth whitening device to initiate the swap and together with Yang we activated them. Almost instantly, I felt the usual effects of the swap: dizziness, slight confusion, temporary blindness. But damned if I don't say this Yang guy's quite the looker himself.

He's quite frisky too. I can feel myself getting...aroused just looking at myself. Huh. ----------------------------------------------------

Day 5: After a few days to myself doing the usual..."activities" after the swap, I decided to do some private correspondence with Yang in my body. Of course I had to look through his closet for some proper clothes, I'm not a savage. Yang's choice of wardrobe is...questionable to say the least, but at least the guy has some decent dress shirts.

...And of course he chose to be a bit more...risqué.

He was rather...nonchalant about the whole matter. He told me the usual stuff he was up to the past few days. He went to the beach, hooked up with some guy, and was enjoying some time to himself as well. But his tone was rather lackluster...he is hiding something. But I am too tired and frankly, horny, to deal with it for now. So, this micro-earpiece is going to stay in its case for now. ----------------------------------------------------

Day 10: Four days left until he has to return to my body. You know what, I'm a little bummed out. Of course I would love to go back, but something about his...my body right now is making me feel...lighter if that makes sense.

I spent the last few days trying to enjoy myself for the last time. Even went to the local gym. I of course worked out plenty of times in my old body but, something about this week made me love it even more. Like, it was all I could think about...

But never the matter, it must be the usual mental changes that start to initiate during the later half of the swap. Yang has been awfully silent these couple of days, but I chalk it up to him doing...stuff. Yeah.

Heh...I smell funky...I....like it.

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Day 14: Bad news. He's done it again. He apparently cut off all contact and fled with my body in tow. Argh. Whatever, he usually agrees to swap back a few days later so I'd say it'll buy me some time tojerkoffandmaybefu-

Wait...what?

---------------------------------------------------- Day 19: G-god...I'm...fucked aren't I. I haven't heard back from the t-team...and sure as hell didn't hear anything from Yang...笨蛋。 The mental changes too...they started faster than I thought, maybe a day ago. 我…我需要让它停止。Last night I felt myself wanting to do...more. More fun. More gym. More...sex. More cum. Huhuhuh...

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Day 23: Can someone...anyone...hear me?

我已经记不起我的名字了。

但没关系。

我好性感啊~~~哈哈哈哈

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Day 25: 我……我该再说一遍什么？

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Day 29:

这到底是什么？无论如何，可能是棉绒。

我什至不知道为什么我还在打电话。我开始忘记了……哈哈哈~

我太性感了… 我的阴茎太大了…

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Day 31: 哈哈哈哈~~~

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SwitchTech Notes: Yang has ceased all communications with SwitchTech and Dave Stanton. Mr. Stanton currently suffers from the most severe stage of mental change, and his log has not been updated in a while, and it is presumed he has deactivated his account entirely. He is currently under observation for any further changes by correspondents on the ground, and is planned to be brought back to our facilities after the real Yang is recaptured. He is still missing, and is actively being pursued by the team for overstaying his welcome here.

...but that doesn't matter now does it Dave? Or should I say...Yang Hao? Cutting you off from the facility was one of the best decisions I've ever made...of course after pulling a few strings over here. This is permanent as far as I can see, and I decided to...mess with your head just a little bit for good measure. Enjoy your life now, 笨蛋。

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