Switcher

THE SWITCHER

Reminder of powers:

-Switch into men's mind at random. There is no way to control the process

-Knock out anyone for up to three minutes

-Take an object with me when holding it before falling asleep

-Force push objects

-Lingering in the victim's head afterwards (followed by "pull back" through previous victims since last lingering)

My mind was back to normal without annoying pulls dragging my spirit along a railroad. I had nothing particular planned for my next victim, since I was still trying to puzzle together the mechanics of lingering.

To continue my experimentation I tried to bring a lot of big stuff to see if the teleport had limits.

When I arrived in the body of a thickly muscled man I was glad I had brought things because there was not much going on where the guy was walking. He was in a foresty mountain, marching along a trail in sweatpants and a loose, gray t-shirt. His body was great, but I had no idea what his face looked like.

Mister Name- and Faceless dropped the heavy bag I had brought and slipped out of his clothes. My search for an ID came up empty. He had nothing on his person. Was he opting out of civilization for the day or what?

With all the stuff back in my hands I walked off the path and to the next best clearing a few minutes away. Dragging the bag was annoying and I had to admit I would not have been able to do it in a less muscle-laden body.

He wouldn't know how far he was from the road so I didn't bother to go farther, even though he would find his way back quite easily.

Along the way I lost all his clothes and covered them with foliage. This was annoyingly difficult to do since the area was pretty green with little dead plant matter on the ground. There was also no way to give Nameless a mohawk. Disappointing. If I hadn't brought an extra heavy goodie bag, this night's switch would have been a waste of time.

I retrieved a bottle of hard booze and downed it in one go, as much as it made my throat burn. The empty bottle I shattered against a rock. Now I was ready to do some work.

First, the simple preparations. I chose a tree and used the hammer I had brought to beat a few metal loops into the tree as well as the ground in front of it. A cock ring and a ball stretcher were my initial gifts for Nameless.

It was hard to say which item to use next because they all made it harder to put on the rest. I wished I had someone to do it for me, but that wasn't how switching worked.

In this order, I put a spreader bar on his ankles, a ball gag in his mouth, wrist cuffs on his arms and a blindfold around his forehead – not yet covering his eyes.

The elaborate part followed and I used force push to maneuver the rope. The prepared loops served to guide the rope as I needed it.

In the end, my rope ran from his ball sack along his ass crack, up his back and farther into the tree. Then it came back down in front of him, currently dangling loosely on eye level.

What had made the bag so heavy were the many 10 pound dumbbell plates in it. I hooked up one to each ankle and wrist cuff, then hung three more along the spreader bar between Nameless' feet. It was already quite tricky to move but not nearly enough so.

I put a thick leather collar on the man's broad, short neck and hung four plates around it. Then I put a plate on each one already on his limbs, making them dangle so it would be harder to stay balanced.

Heavy, strong nipple clamps were the finishing touch, with just one dumbbell plate left to add to the chain between his clamps.

I took the rope's loose end into my hands, already shaking from the weights pulling down on me everywhere. I went up to the very tips of my toes and pulled the rope taut until Nameless' balls were uncomfortably stretched. They would hurt terribly if he dared to lower his wobbly feet by any amount.

With my arms stretched as far upward as possible I made a knot with trembling hands, the ball pain significantly present as I failed to balance myself perfectly.

At last I had secured his hands. Nameless was totally stretched. His arms were up, his feet on the toe tips, his legs spread, his torso strained and – most importantly – his balls crushed.

I held out a minute or so until the strain made sweat build up all over Nameless' body. The trembling got too bad. I would get to feel the ball pain, too, if I didn't leave soon.

Using force push, I shoved the blindfold down over my eyes. It wasn't perfect, because force push was no tool of amazing precision when the object was right on my skin, but as long as the man had no way of seeing more than the sky above and the ground under his feet, there was no way it would be less than terrifying.

I said goodbye to Nameless.

It had been a while since I had been inside a college student. Probably since Jimmy, right?

The slender, broad shouldered arab, whose head I resided in, was in his room, apparently not living on campus. It was past midnight but he still worked on his computer.

In fact he had been working for so long, he had ignored his appetite. I grabbed the power bars on his desk and munched two while considering my next steps. Tonight was going to be another experiment.

A look at his ID told me his name was Doyle Graham and he was 20 years old. Good, not another nameless person. I liked to know whose life I was ruining.

Yesterday I had realized I had never used force push on a person. I had no reason to since I could stun anybody, but what about myself? What if I could fly? No, really. What if I could force push myself or the ground under me and fly? That would be fucking awesome.

Once I had filled the boy's stomach I wandered into his bathroom and stripped. His body was unusually hairy for a switch of mine. Most were either smoothly muscled or smoothly twinkish.

First order of business was to cut his thick black hair into a mohawk, but this time I was sloppy and it became slightly diagonal. From a certain angle it looked purposeful, but... nah, not really. I just wasn't getting any better at hair styling.

Should I try to fly now?

I force pushed the ground underneath Doyle's body. Nothing happened. I pushed only the ground under his foot soles. Nope. The ability did not run on conservation of momentum.

Then I tried to push his legs upward.

A flurry of hair streamed up and into my surprised face. Wait what? His leg hair had detached en masse, leaving some regions perfectly smooth. No really, what the fuck?

Then I understood. The force push didn't come from my hands or head, but from any body part whatsoever. If I pushed something away, the force was created in front of my body. But – here's the trick – I could also create push from inside me. Thus, hair was pushed out of the skin, root and all.

My first thought was that I could make people's mohawks permanent. A lovely prospect but I wouldn't be able to find people like Jimmy and Bobby who had kept the style on purpose if I didn't leave my victims a choice. I would use the ability sparsely when it came to head hair.

I stepped into the shower and used the newly discovered application of force push everywhere on Doyle, turning his furry body into an inhumanly smooth skinned one. I even got rid of his scruff. Once I used lingering on someone and returned to Doyle I'd see if his beard had regrown or it was indeed permanent removal as it appeared to be.

The smoothness was amazing – practically on par with being oiled up, except less slippery and lacking the glow.

What could I do to Doyle? Leaving people tied up and cum covered in public was always an option but I could do that any day. Humiliating him online? Another old hat. Then I had an idea for a combination of humiliations I hadn't tried so far.

In order to leave him a nice mess, I deleted everything on his hard drive. He had a backup under his desk. In plain sight. Too bad for him.

There was a tablet on his bed. I unlocked it with his fingerprint and looked if he had anything saved on there. There were a lot of files in the cloud he probably needed for college, so I got rid of those, naturally. Now it was time to take a walk – naked.

All I took with me was his phone which I dropped into the next best gutter.

Young, slender, smooth Doyle made his way along the dimly lit streets of suburbia. The air was calm and quiet. A beautiful night to fuck up a boy's life.

Fondling his nipples and occasionally patting his semi hard on, I navigated Doyle's body into a wealthy looking neighborhood. I needed a place where someone was still up.

At last I came to a mansion with a lit window on the ground floor. Looking in by the window I could see a woman on a sofa watching TV. That would do.

I simply walked up to the house's door and used a strong force push. The door burst open and slammed into the wall, almost closing again as it was reflected. I caught it and slipped in.

Getting hard, I entered the living room and knocked out the woman as soon as I saw her. I wasn't even sure if she had seen me yet.

The three minutes it took for her stun to require a renewal were enough for me to roam through their stuff. I found a locked liquor closet but the flimsy lock was no match for Doyle's sheer manly power. Why always use force push when I didn't have to? It was pretty hot to wreck a cupboard with the surprisingly strong arms this arab boy had.

I sat down and jerked off a little while watching TV right next to the repeatedly stunned woman, meanwhile taste testing pretty much the whole cupboard's contents. No matter how expensive the stuff was, it never tasted good to me. But the taste was, after all, not the reason to drink liquor.

Then I heard a noise upstairs. A husband? And he hadn't heard the door trembling in its hinges as it was slammed into the wall? Maybe it had taken him until now to find his glasses or something.

When the huge man came down the stairs, I saw it was not glasses he had looked for. The husband carried a gun.

For the blink of an eye I was panicking so hard, I forgot I had an easy solution. Once he was on the bottom most step and raised his arm to aim at me, I stunned the idiot and rose, still jerking off.

I took his gun and dropped it into a flower vase. Then I pulled his unresponsive body to the sofa and sat him next to his wife.

Subsequently, I looked through their closet to grab shoelaces – nothing more. I used them to tie Doyle's big toes together with about two foot of string between them. He would be able to walk but not run. It would not keep him from escaping but he'd definitely fall on his face when he tried to get away in a panic.

I knelt on the coffee table, between all the opened liquor bottles and edged the boy until I felt the buzz set in a good amount.

My hands wandered all over his perfectly smooth skin as I slowly reduced the stun on the couple. Once I was ready to cum, I stopped knocking them out over and over. The moment they recovered, I shot Doyle's load up his chest with a sensual groan.

After the first spurt, I left his head to let him experience the glory of jizzing on strangers' furniture.

I could hardly imagine what would make my heart race faster than this night. But I didn't know yet that the next switch would bring a totally new kind of fun.

Another new ability? Well, it's not all that powerful, so it shouldn't make things too easy.

Nameless or Doyle? Which one would you rather be?