THE SWITCHER
After the elaborate plan with Luis I felt like doing something simple but that didn't meant it had to be boring.
When I found myself in a boy's body again, I was happy to see he was in his room. All I needed was here, including the little bag I had brought with me through dreamland.
Sixteen year old Ron Jordan was about to have the night of his live.
The slender, dark, babyfaced boy was at his computer. Normally I ruined young boys' lives via showing them off in front of their friends, either in school or online. This time I wanted to keep everything a secret – this one was just for little Ron.
He had been working on some homework thing, but I closed the text program without saving and had a look through his phone. I needed his number.
I took a piece of paper from his notebook and wrote something in big letters. Then I walked outside to see if I'd have to sneak past anyone.
Luckily his parents were already asleep, so I made my way into the bathroom and stripped. I took my time with Ron's mohawk, getting it right this time, to make it look purposeful. If he did well, this would be the only part of tonight anyone would have to know about.
Back in his room, I slipped into sweat pants and looked for the perfect location on his phone.
Once I was ready, I pocketed the prepared paper.
His computer was still running. Instead of turning it off, I decided to wipe the hard drive completely. After making sure he had no backups, I left the house. With me I had his phone, the paper and the goodie bag I had teleported in.
The shirtless, slender teen put the key under the doormat and then made his way to the bus stop. It was a suburban area and pretty late so I had to wait quite some time.
I got out the heaviest item in the bag – a small bottle of liquor. The drink wasn't particularly cool anymore so I could gulp it down quickly without difficulty. The alcohol would slowly impair his judgement and shyness, starting in something like half an hour.
During the ride I deleted everything off his phone, including all contacts. Then I made sure his phone rejected all calls and messages except from one number which I whitelisted.
While I wanted to enjoy the shirtlessness I didn't want to get into trouble so I rode in the backrow. The whole point was for Ron to avoid running into problems.
At the outskirts of town, I left the bus and kept walking away from the road until I was in a grassy patch in the dark. There I got rid of the sweatpants, hid them so they were practically invisible and returned to the road.
The now naked Ron opened his bag and retrieved his personal dose of oil. After being turned into a beautifully shining example of perversity, I felt to my satisfaction that the alcohol was setting in.
While I would have loved to give him more presents, I hadn't brought anything else. I had to pay for those gifts, after all. Maybe I could figure out a better way to do this someday. I got rid of the bag, leaving me with only the zip ties.
I spread the piece of notebook paper from earlier in front of the dark skinned twink and knelt down so it would be the first thing he saw. Now I only had to prepare his restraints.
First I wrapped three zip ties around my right arm and pulled them taut. I wove the other three into them and brought my arms behind my back. Despite the practice I had by now, it was still difficult to get them to close.
Once all that was done, I switched back, leaving my mind as only a lingering presence in Ron's head.
The teen jolted awake as his personality returned into his brain. "W-what?" he mumbled. Then he realized his situation and I knew he was panicking horribly.
Meanwhile I had gotten up from my sofa at home and was writing on my computer. I grinned to myself and was already rock hard.
Finally, Ron notice the piece of paper. It said "Hello Ron Jordan. Don't worry, nothing bad will happen to you – if you do as we say."
I couldn't feel the boy's body from the inside anymore but I heard his breath and knew his heartbeat was through the roof.
Further down, the paper read "Your task is simply to get back home. We will give you directions if you behave. If anyone sees you in your current state for long enough to either recognize or document you, the game is off and you're on your own. So be careful."
Ron was shaking. He couldn't be cold under the oil so it had to be fear or anger. I was ecstatic. This was the best show ever.
The bottom of the paper said "First task: destroy this paper. Then look at your phone. It's behind you. We'll be in contact."
Ron twisted around and saw his phone under the streetlight. He got up on wobbly legs and crouched down above the paper to pick it up and shred it in his bound hands.
Once he dropped the tiny pieces I sent my first message.
I had set up a system that let me send as an anonymous number from the internet to his phone. The number would become invalid and untraceable as soon as I closed the conversation. I had prepared.
Ron's phone vibrated. He took a look at the notification. It said <Here are the directions: walk down the street the way you have been facing. Turn left, then left again to a playground. Walk through it.>
I had decide to send him home with minimal detours since the way was long enough.
Ron opened the notification and struggled to type with the phone under his ass.
I sent another message. <Just speak up, Ron. We can hear you perfectly well.>
The boy's eyes opened wide in disbelieve. "What? Holy fuck."
Ron trembled. "Oh my god. Who are you?"
<We're not here to talk about us. Get moving.>
"Yes, fucking hell. I'll go. Just get me out of here."
"Fuck you."
<Alright, the next set of directions will have to be earned.>
"Fuck! You!"
Ron grabbed the phone off the ground and jogged along the road. I noticed how tense he was when a car passed him by. Wonderful.
He made it to the playground and through it without difficulty, but by then he was totally exhausted. The stress paired with having jogged as fast as possible was getting to him already.
<Would you like to know where to go next?>
"Ugh, for fucks sake. Help me, you monsters. What did you do to me? This is impossible. You have no right to do this."
<Bad boy. If you want directions, complete the task I'll give you. Understood?>
"Whatever. Tell me already."
<You have to spend the rest of the walk home hard. If you go soft we won't give you directions anymore.>
"Hard? I have to step on the ground hard?"
<Hard dick, you idiot.>
"Fuck no."
<Okay, goodbye.>
"No, wait. Hello? Hello? Are you still there?" Ron stared at his phone in silence. I put popcorn in the microwave.
"P-please," the teen said, "please come back. I'll do it. I'll follow your orders... sir."
I typed. <You're still not hard, though.>
Ron exhaled in relieve and reached around under his ass to rub his dick. That was easier said than done, since a normal human doesn't have a back that flexible and Ron was no yoga master. He took his dick between his thighs and pulled it down and back. This way he was able to reach, but the oil made it way too slippery to hold onto.
His only option was to rub the head while wonkily fucking his own thighs. It took a surprisingly short amount of time for him to get rock hard – it was almost instantaneous. Either he was into it or teen hormones worked even better than I remembered mine ever doing. Maybe he was extremely horny for some reason.
I gave him the next set of instructions and he jogged along, now with an erection uncontrollably slapping his abs with every step. The sound was wonderfully loud in the empty streets.
I turned on the TV and only paid as much attention to Ron as necessary. Whenever he was about to be spotted by someone out late at night, or was passed by a car, he trembled with terror. His dick went back to semi-hard on occasion, but not totally, leaving him unable to thigh fuck, since the dick slipped out easily.
He found a great system. In order to stay hard, Ron crouched down and fought his semi hard-on between his calves. This calf fucking was able to keep him hard enough. He really had to be unusually horny.
"I need instructions again... sir."
"What?"
"But... how am I supposed to carry the phone?"
<You've got a mouth.>
"...Okay."
<And don't take them out till you're there.>
Ron shoved his fingers in. I could only see what he saw so I didn't know if he was even doing it but going by the pained whimpering he followed my orders. Then he picked up the phone with his lips.
Like that, he kept running, with a little calf fuck every couple of streets. After a while I realized he now recognized the area and could find his way home on his own.
It took almost fifteen minutes and nothing spectacular happened. I was already planning my next victim's routine when Ron finally arrived at the front door.
<Want the key?>
He dropped the phone to read the message and nodded, too out of breath to speak. The liquor was probably in full effect and the trapped heat under the oil certainly didn't make him more comfortable either.
<Cum. Then eat it.>
Ron groaned, but barely hesitated. He crouched into thigh fuck position and made little up and down motions to rub his dick head's sides along his skin. With his ass still well fingered, he shot a sizable load he had to have been keeping in since the beginning of the ordeal.
He dropped to his knees and whimpered pathetically. With his eyes closed he tasted the cum and shivered. Then he took a deep breath and sucked it all off the asphalt.
<Key's under the door mat. Delete this conversation immediately or things will get a lot worse for you. Have a good night, Ron. I hope you had fun. Maybe you'll hear from us again.>
As soon as Ron hit delete on his phone, I switched out completely.
That had been almost cute. Being subtle and clandestine was fun, too. Just wouldn't want it every time.
I woke up with an odd sensation in my brain. I didn't know what to make of it, not yet aware I was in for a treat.