THE SWITCHER
Only three days later I ended up switching again. According to the ID in his jeans next to his bed, the boy was eighteen year old Bobby Thomas – a somewhat short but muscular boy with a broad chest and narrow waist. He was a truly beautiful boy, with dark eyes and hazel hair atop his strong face.
He shared his room with two brothers, which made it hard to go through with any plans I had made beforehand. I pondered my options, while stepping out of bed.
Naturally, I walked out and down the hallway first to find the bathroom. With three boys and probably a dad, there was going to be a pretty good razor, I assumed. Once I had found the device, I closed the bathroom door and gave Bobby a haircut. Since his smooth hair was a bit longer – about a hand width – I made the mohawk extra thin to have it hanging as curly spikes. It looked hilariously stupid, which was the intended effect.
Just as I stripped down, the door opened and one of his brothers entered.
"Bobby? What are our doing?"
I panicked slightly and while I didn't exactly wish myself back into my own body, I did feel something similar. Suddenly a piece of me was torn out of Bobby's mind and slammed against his brother's.
For a moment I thought I was switching into the other body but my disembodied mind bounced off the brother's personality and snapped back into Bobby. It had however driven the brother's mind out for a moment.
The boy stood there with his eyes slightly crossed and his mouth ajar. It would not last forever – I assumed.
Walking around the motionless boy, I brought Bobby back into the hallway, shirtless. I rushed back into the trio's room, grabbed Bobby's phone and walked towards the stairs downward.
His brother recovered, but not too fast. So the effect did wear off. Good news, I hadn't made someone brain dead. Bad news, I had to get the hell out.
I slipped out the front door and realized I was fairly close to the end of suburbia where the real city began. I walked toward where the map told me a bus stop was. If anyone asked for a ticket, I'd simply have to leave Bobby's mind early.
This new power to deactivate people's minds and keep them on the spot demanded to be tested.
Once I was on my way, I focused on the homeless guy sitting on the bus across from me. With a little concentration I felt a piece of me leaving Bobby's head again and knocked the guy out. I measured the time on the phone. After about three minutes, the effect wore off. I stunned him again and got another three minutes.
That was useful for all sorts of cruelties.
Arriving in the city center I left the bus. It was during the week with most businesses long closed so there wasn't too much I could do. I walked along the streets in the shirtless muscle teen's body and admired myself in store windows.
Getting bored, I finally found a place I could use. It was a night club with a small crowd at the entrance. Even on weekdays some people had to party.
I walked past the line with confidence and the bouncer looked at me with a raised brow. Bobby didn't necessarily look like a teen, but asking for an ID would have been likely. I wasn't too sure I wanted to stun the bouncer, but luckily he seemed impressed with my displayed body and let me through.
Music inside was so loud it would not have been possible to talk. It was a not-too-dense crowd. A good mix of men and women, giving me just the audience I expected to be most humiliating to my victim.
There was a congregation of sad singles, nursing drinks at the bar. I walked up to them and waited until someone ordered a new drink. Then I knocked him out and took the drink from under the vegetative man's nose. In this manner I stole three drinks. They were disgustingly sweet or bitter. No idea how people could like that stuff, but after a little while it served its purpose of giving Bobby a serious buzz.
A couple of younger women smiled at me, but I ignored them for now. They would get to see more of Bobby soon enough.
Moving with the beat, I made my way up to the gallery/VIP-area-type-thing. There was another bouncer and of course I had no right to go up there. I tried knocking him out gently this time and saw with satisfaction that he only stayed vegetative for ten seconds or so.
I did it again and walked past him to get up. There was more room to move because fewer people were around. They probably belonged to the same event or at least had come in groups so I still risked being asked to identify myself.
From above I could see the unused stage on the far side of the club. That was all I needed to know.
Quickly, I walked to the upstairs toilets where my ears got a little break from the bass. I slipped out of my jeans and underwear. If anyone came in I would just stun them.
I pushed the clothes into the trash and hid it under all the paper towels. Bobby wouldn't find them again. I still had his phone which I dropped into a toilet and flushed down. If I didn't need it anymore, why should he?
To end my preparations, I jerked off a little until I was fully hard. Back on the gallery I walked past the guests without haste, letting them realize what was happening.
Then I entered the staircase and knocked out the bouncer for a little longer to steal his black tie. I entered the downstairs area again and made my way through the crowd.
Everybody stared – some in surprise, some in disgust, some in awe, but most were simply mildly curious. As I passed the bar again, I gently stunned two more guys and downed their drinks. The three drinks from before were properly setting in at that time. Bobby would find himself unable to speak clearly, walk straight or come up with any explanations.
I finally reached the stage, now with pretty much everybody's attention on me. Looking over to the bar I saw baristas wave at a bouncer I hadn't seen before. I knocked him out and he stopped in his tracks.
Then I tied the tie as a blindfold across my eyes. I dropped to my knees – the alcohol making me dizzy – and jerked off vigorously. With all the excitement going on, I came quickly. Of course I pointed the dick up to spray paint Bobby with his cum.
Happy with the outcome, I left his mind.
The teen would wake up blindfolded to extremely loud music in a hot environment. He would realize he was naked and tear off the blindfold in a panic. Anyone would have done that. And that's where the really big news would hit him, with dozens of people staring.
Would he even realize he was covered in cum or would he be too buzzed to register details like that?
Right away I knew this one was a money bag. He lived in a huge mansion in what was obviously a gated community. Three cars in the driveway and probably more in the garage – although one of them looked cheap and presumably belonged to staff. Yeah, of course the guy would have servants, too.
The thick, soft muscled man in whose body I was had a boring face, a bit chubby perhaps but not remarkable in any way. I found out from his ID that he was called Quincy Jarret and was only 22. He didn't necessarily look older than that, just bigger.
Since I didn't know if anyone would notice he was acting weird, I wanted to avoid being seen by the staff. I slipped into the clothes he had prepared for the next day – a tailored suit – and found the ensuite.
The shaggy, mid-length hair turned into a Mohawk above the sink, just to get that part out of the way. It didn't look dumb enough. I doubted he would have appreciated the redesign but in a way it looked alright on him. So I got rid of the hair at the front and back as well, leaving a rough circle on top of his head.
Now he looked sufficiently stupid. Of course my freestyle haircut was jagged, off center and not particularly circular. All part of its charm.
His massive body wasn't used to moving silently, but I managed to get out without drawing anyone's attention. I couldn't be sure everyone was sleeping with a house this big and expensive. The neighborhood probably had security personnel.
Looking for tools in the garage I found zip ties which I gladly took with me.
I picked one of the car keys, made it outside and found the car the keys had come with. It was some imported, modded thing from a brand I had never heard of. The inside was pure luxury.
It occurred to me that I might be about to make a powerful enemy. As traceless as my activity was, I didn't want to create a media circus in case anyone managed to draw connections. Perhaps there was a pattern to the switching I wasn't aware of.
As I drove out the gated community entrance, I saw I had been right and there was a uniformed guy in the booth. He simply waved me through. I considered knocking him out so he wouldn't know who had left but perhaps having people look for Quincy wasn't such a bad idea.
Once I had reached another town, I left the car behind – with open doors and the key inside. Again, if I had no use for it, Quincy didn't either.
There wasn't much going on so I decided to keep it simple. In a side alley I stripped down completely and found a trash can to hide the stuff in. Next, I put a zip tie around each wrist and ankle. I jerked myself hard, before walking out into the open again.
No one had yet seen me so I dropped down and used a zip tie to connect the one on my left wrist to my left ankle. Then I did the same with the other side which was much more difficult. I didn't have much range of motion now and was in constant danger of falling on my ass with no way of getting up.
It was tough to reach around from under my ass so I could still stroke my dick. I made it work while some onlookers finally noticed what was going on.
When the cameras came out I once again made the ugliest, most ridiculous orgasm faces for their benefit. As quickly as always I came and sprayed every drop along Quincy's thick thighs.
Just as I lost my balance and fell backwards, I switched. Quincy would regain consciousness the moment his ass hit the asphalt.
Kevin Bell was fifteen and lived in a tiny, filthy home. The thin, delicate, freckled boy could have been good looking if he had found the time and money to put a modicum of effort into his appearance.
Luckily I was about to do it for him. In the middle of the night I gave him a clumsy, jagged mohawk.
Not much else was possible in this neighborhood. The front door was locked, I didn't know where the key was and all the windows were sealed shut. That had to be a bad neighborhood.
I wandered around the small house in hopes of finding something fun to use. The master bedroom contained only Kevin's dad. He looked just like an older version of the boy. Maybe the mother wasn't in the picture, maybe she worked nightshifts. Either way, I had an idea.
When I entered the room with my utensils, I knocked the father out while he was still asleep, put a towel under his head and gave him a mohawk, too. So far so good.
I got rid of the evidence and returned. The dad slept naked, which was all the better. I crawled into his bed and began to suck the limp dick. Kevin's mouth was quickly filled with more and more meat as the unconscious father developed a boner.
Using mouth and hands I got the older guy close to orgasm.
My knock outs became gentler and gentler until I had the man in little more than a light slumber.
In a stroke of incredible luck, the wife returned just then. I heard her turn the keys and slowed down the blowjob until she was near the door.
Then I sucked to the best of my abilities, hoping to have edged the dad enough for my plan to work.
In the second the woman entered, I let the father wake up. His load erupted and I pulled back just enough to let some of the jizz shoot past Kevin's mouth and across his face.
Once the last shot drizzled out, I left the boy's mind.
Which one did you like best? Muscle teen Bobby in the club, rich boy Quincy who was tied up in public or Kevin who sucked his dad's dick? More fun ahead.