Losing Himself

[Six Word Request: Tom Brady; cheerleader; body swap; humiliation]

[Body Swap, Identity Swap, Trait Swap, Body Transformation]

He paused by the bus stop, waiting for the small crowd of sorority girls behind him to push by. He stared at his reflection in the glass covering the bus schedules and examined the thin face looking back at him. He reached up and touched the small nose, ran slender fingers across his slim neck and pulled his shirt down to reveal a lean but scrawny chest where tight athletic pecs were supposed to be.

“My name is…” he began, feeling confident that this time he’d be able to get the words out, “...Shiloh Willis.” The name came out automatically. It wasn’t the name he had been thinking, but somewhere between his mind and his mouth it changed. He didn’t know who “Shiloh Willis” was but it was the name his hand kept signing, the one he kept turning to respond to when other students at this unfamiliar college said hello.

But he wasn’t a college student, not a thin male cheerleader on a rural college campus in New Hampshire. He was a grown man! He was one of the greatest NFL quarterbacks of all time! He could still clearly remember his life even though he couldn’t give any outward indication of it.

He imagined his wife. He thought of his kids and his best friends. He thought of his coach and his parents and he felt his old life returning to him. If only he could just say the name he could go back to it.

“My name is…” He suddenly blanked. The name he was looking for--the name he had been trying to say for three days, ever since he woke up in an unfamiliar dorm room and started living the life of an unfamiliar young man he’d never heard of before--wasn’t there. He couldn’t remember it! “Shiloh Willis” wasn’t it--but what was the real name? He panicked as he realized the information was gone from his mind.

His phone--fuck, Shiloh’s phone--vibrated and he glanced at it. Someone saved in the phone as “Hunky Ty” had sent him a text: “I need a little athletic support, bitch. Get to my room.” There was a little smirking devil emoji at the end.

He bristled at that. An image of someone he’d never met before--a big, broad-shouldered college athlete with a lantern jaw and a huge cock--flashed in his mind. Why the fuck was he thinking of college guys’ cocks? He bristled at this, although his heart fluttered and he felt a stirring in his sweatpants. He lifted the phone and commanded his fingers to type: “FUCK OFF.”

“Be right there,” he typed back. Don’t hit send, he ordered himself as he saw the message spelled out, but his thumb still tapped the button. As the text turned blue, he felt sick to his stomach. He didn’t know how, but he knew Ty--Tyler Lancourt, linebacker for the Granite State Goliaths--lived in Richardson hall (the “jock” dorm) room 805. He knew he was going to go there, even though he ordered his feet to stop moving.

Suddenly he flashed to Sunday mornings on the sidelines, cheering with the rest of his squad while watching big, beautiful Tyler on the field. Tyler, taking off his helmet and shaking out his long sweaty hair. The smell of Tyler after a big game flashed in his mind--grass and sweat, his sexy musk coming off him in a fog. Shiloh’s knees went weak as he imagined Ty stretching out his long, muscular body on his bed, his huge cock flopped against his leg. He wanted to climb Tyler like he was a tree.

Fuck, no! I’m not Shiloh! I’m--

His inability to answer that question took the fight right out of him. He had never been there before, but he knew he was headed straight for Richardson hall.

*

“Bout fucking time,” Ty said as he opened his door. He yanked Shiloh into the room and examined the hallway. “Anybody see you coming in?”

“No,” Shiloh said. Before he had approached he had cased the surrounding floors, making sure no one was milling about when he approached Tyler’s door. The ritual felt familiar even though it only materialized in his mind moments before he had approached.

“I’m fucking cranky,” Tyler said. “Coach has me eating a shit-ton and pounding the weights, trying to slam weight on me. I fucking hate that shit, blowing me up like a blimp. You think I’m getting fat?” Tyler stood and turned for Shiloh, modeling his size in his tight t-shirt and sweatpants.

Surely Ty looked thicker than before--fuck, how do I even know that?--his big ass sticking out further, his shoulders and chest seeming broader. His chiseled face looked a little full. Shiloh felt his knees going weak as he examined his hero, licking his lips a little as he saw the massive python in Ty’s sweatpants swinging around.

“I think you look… amazing…” Shiloh said breathily. No I don’t, he thought, but he actually did. This is the way he felt when looking at a beautiful woman--when looking at his wife! He tried to envision his wife’s face but the memory was foggy. He tried to envision any of the hundreds of women he had fucked in his career--any woman ever--but the softness of their bodies, the shape of their curves, the narrowness of their frames, all turned him off.

“My fucking abs are gone,” Ty said pulling up his t-shirt and patting a firm belly. That was new since last Shiloh had been there (I’ve never fucking been here before! What the fuck!) but he had to resist the urge to press his face into it, to smell deeply into Ty’s sexy navel. He wanted to tongue bathe every inch of the big jock’s body, but he knew he had to wait for permission.

“I think you’re…” He tried to rein in his admiration. Ty usually snapped if Shiloh got “too gay” around him. “...hotter than ever.” There was so much more Shiloh wanted to say: “even more beautiful than before”; “You’ve got the ‘daddy’ look on lock!’; “You fucking closet case, let me out of this fucking room!”; “You look like your sexiness goes all the way down to the genetic level.” But he didn’t want to blow his chance to… well, “blow” his “chance.”

“Whatever,” Ty said, shoving past Shiloh to fall into his sofa. He jerked down his sweatpants, letting his half-hard cock bob free. He scratched at the small tuft of lush hair around its hilt, then put his hands behind his head. “I need some tension relief. Suck me off. I want you out when I cum.”

Shiloh had to resist the urge to drop to his knees and climb over there immediately. He had to play it cool. He knew this upperclassman could find someone else to take care of his needs if he wanted to. He struggled to be nonchalant as he approached the 6’2” stud’s powerful body, slowly sinking to the floor. He leaned forward and gently licked the head of the cock, which twitched. He heard Ty moan, although the big hunk grabbed a remote and turned on the TV immediately afterward. Shiloh knew it was his job to keep working, so he licked the length of the shaft, nuzzled the soft pubes, then suckled at each of the balls lovingly before finally swallowing the length of the shaft whole.

“...and today, Tom Brady shocked his family and his fans when he filed for divorce from his of 10 years…”

Shiloh shivered, although he wasn’t sure why. He knew that name--of course he knew that name, it was Tom fucking Brady--but something about it was triggering something. He hated hearing it.

“What a fucking faggot,” Ty said.

Shiloh paused and looked up at Ty. Why had that made him flinch? He looked back at the big beautiful cock before him and tried to fixate back on it.

“I was talking about Tom Brady, not you,” Ty said. He gave Shiloh a gentle slap against the cheek. “Get back to work.” Shiloh did as he was told. “But did you hear this shit? Don’t stop, moan once for yes, twice for no. Good boy. Anyway, you hear the rumors about fucking Tom Brady? People say they’ve caught him sneaking around with some of his players. An assistant they just fired said he saw Tom and Gronk kissing. I swear to fucking god I’ve called that one for years.”

Shiloh had no idea why, but this news made him incredibly sad. He just wanted Ty to stop talking but he was unable to voice the words to make him do so. He sadly tried to remember what his name was, what team he used to play for, what his kids’ names were, but they weren’t coming to mind. So he decided to ignore it all and just focus on making this big beautiful stud cum down his throat.

*

Shiloh went out Richardson Hall’s back door. The sun was going down and there was a dark trail he could follow through the woods that came out only a half-mile away from his own dorm. He was shocked when he saw Eli Hutchinson, the former tight end for the Goliaths, standing in the shadows by the edge of the woods. No one was ever back there.

“Hey Shiloh,” Eli said. Shiloh knew who the guy was--fifth year senior, shattered his leg last year in the middle of a massively successful career starting for the Goliaths; he used to be the biggest name on the team until the injury ended his career--but they had never spoken before. He had no idea how Eli even knew his name.

“Uh, hi,” Shiloh said. He put his head down and tried to duck away, but Eli gently grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

“Do you know who I am?” Eli said.

Of course Shiloh did! Until his injury, Eli had been 6’5” and 250 pounds of rippling, beautiful muscle! He had looked like Thor come to life, with shaggy blonde hair, blue eyes and deep dimples. Since his football career had ended, his body had deflated as the bulk he had built up on the field wasted away. He was still a cute guy, but just a tall lanky guy. Eli used to have an aura about him, an animal charisma that seemed to radiate from his thick build, but now he was nothing special.

“I know you used to play on the Goliaths,” Shiloh said. There was no need to admit to the fact that he had jerked off to Eli hundreds of times, and once--just once--he had paid his buddy, who cleaned the locker rooms, to steal Eli’s jockstrap. He had used that musky thing as a facemask, bringing him to the most intense orgasms of his life as he imagined himself burying his face in Eli’s huge, sweaty glutes while reaching around to jerk his huge powerful cock. “I know you got injured too. That’s all.”

Eli smirked. “When’s the last time we talked?”

“We’ve never talked.” What was Eli getting at? The struggle with his identity, with new memories materializing as old memories dissolved, was exhausting. Whatever was going on here wasn’t helping.

Eli just smiled. “Are you Tom Brady?” he said.

Shiloh just stared and blinked. “What is that even supposed to mean?”

“I mean, are you not really Shiloh? Did you wake up one day in this body and you’re not sure how you got there?”

Fuck yes! Oh, yes! Please help me!

“I don’t know what kind of prank you’re trying to pull here,” Shiloh said, “but if you want to pick on the gay cheerleader, why don’t you just beat me up or something?”

Eli smiled. “Come with me. To my dorm room. I have something I want to show you.”

Shiloh’s heart leapt. Even though Eli was just a shadow of his former self, just the chance to be with the stud of his dreams was a mind-blowing opportunity. But Ty had rules. If he found out that Shiloh was slinking around with other dudes…

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m not that type of guy, thank you.” Shiloh started to walk down the trail.

“You used to jerk off into my jockstrap,” Eli said. Shiloh froze, then decided to ignore the accusation. “I used to be your biggest crush. And you’ve been Ty Lancourt’s fucktoy for the whole last season. Britney Fink found out about it and wanted to out you both to get you kicked off the squad but you found out about her cheating on Will Davies, and about her abortion, and it’s the only reason she’s not saying anything to anyone.”

Shiloh froze. How the fuck did Eli know any of this?

“Also, you switched Britney’s aspirin with Imodium A-D and that’s why she went to the hospital.”

Shiloh spun around. “What are you talking about? When did you hear any of that? Who the fuck do you think you are?” He was so caught off guard by the accusations that he failed to adequately respond without giving away his guilt.

“You told me,” Eli said. He slowly jogged toward Shiloh. “You told me two weeks ago. But you don’t remember that, do you?”

Shiloh shook his head. “I’ve never fucking talked to you before.”

Eli smirked. “Because it wasn’t ‘you’ who did it. You’re not even ‘you.’ You’re Tom Brady. I bet you can’t say it though, can you? Is it getting harder to remember who you’re supposed to be?”

Shiloh wanted to scream, “YES!” but he just shook his head. “I don’t have time for any of this,” he said.

“Then just come to my room with me,” Eli said, grabbing Shiloh by the shoulder. “Or else I’m going public with your little sexcapades with Ty, and telling everyone you made Britney Fink constipated.”

*

“I’m not… gonna fuck you,” Shiloh said as he looked around Eli’s room. It was much tidier than Ty’s, and smelled better too. Eli started lighting candles. He grinned at Shiloh.

“Look, no offense, bud? I totally respect that you’re gay, but I’m not into dudes. That’s not what this is about.” He paused, then put a hand on Shiloh’s shoulder. “And to be perfectly honest, the whole deal Ty has worked out with you? You deserve better. Nobody should treat you like that. Honestly.”

Shiloh blinked, disarmed by Eli’s kindness. “Well then… I mean, what do you even want then?”

“Look, I have to explain this to you before it can really work,” Eli said. He dragged a heavy trunk from under his bed, unlocked it, and pulled out a few books and a small crystal orb. “So after my injury I started doing some research on some… unorthodox… ways to get better and get back on the team. I did a little traveling over the summer, went to Scotland, Tibet, Jamaica… Look, there’s a lot of stuff in this world that science can’t explain. You could call it magic. You still listening?”

Shiloh shook his head. This would have been easier if Eli had just wanted to get sucked off. “Yeah, but…”

Eli flipped through some dusty pages, then set the books down, open, on the trunk. “Well, one day in the library I bumped into Shiloh Willis. And we were both looking for the same book. Do you remember that?”

“No,” he said. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Do you remember researching the occult at all?” Eli asked.

Shiloh shook his head.

“Then he probably made sure you wouldn’t remember. Smart, really. If you did, maybe you could undo what he had done. But now you’re just stuck in there. Anyway…” He covered the orb with both hands and closed his eyes. He held it against his chest, then against his forehead, before setting it on the trunk next to the two books. “...I was looking for a way to transfer power. I figured, from Gronk to me, since he was retired, he wouldn’t need his ability anymore. And I thought if I took it, it could heal me up, make me strong again, so I could get back into football.” Eli sighed when he saw Shiloh’s wide eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. For real, I think I could have pulled it off, although it was a little out of my skill set. I was working up to it, but Shiloh… he was a real natural. He was making doors slam and making people fall asleep instantly. He had some serious power. It was almost scary.”

“Why are you talking about me in the third person?” Shiloh said. He was done with this nonsense. He wondered if he could make it to the door if he ran.

“Just listen,” Eli said. “Anyway, I needed an article of Gronk’s clothing. Not hard to find, really. We went on eBay, got a jersey he wore in a game, no sweat--actually, SOAKED in sweat, which was necessary for the spell to work. Shiloh said he would order it, and for some reason he tacked on a Tom Brady jersey. We were supposed to do the spell four days ago, but he told me it didn’t work. He said when he tried the incantation it gave him a migraine. He said it was beyond his ability, which was weird because… nothing is beyond his ability. I swear, he must have had some serious magic in his family history.”

Shiloh’s eyes narrowed. “My great-great aunt…” he began, remembering things a moment before he said them. “She was burned to death in Salem. How did you…?”

“Makes perfect sense,” Eli said. “Well, when you didn’t show up to my room, I got worried. Then I heard stuff on the news about Tom Brady and I just put two and two together…”

Shiloh shook his head. “That’s enough. I’m leaving. I think you should get some therapy, Eli.”

“Wadidzo…” Eli said, holding the crystal orb at arm’s length in Shiloh’s direction. “Corm Dus’kallo, Wynnde Azidh… Wynnde Azidh!”

Shiloh shivered. Everything in the room seemed to freeze. The fridge’s buzzing was barely noticeable until it slowed and faded out. Its silence was inescapable. There was a drop of sweat making its way down Shiloh’s forehead that stopped, mid-trickle. He was in the middle of blinking but he knew it would be an eternity until he was able to complete that action.

“My name is Tom Brady!” he blurted out. He looked around in a panic, looked down at his scrawny body, and up at the tall man in front of him. “Holy fuck, my name is Tom Brady!” he said. “I couldn’t say it before! I couldn’t even remember it!” He started gasping for air as his old memories came back into focus. He grabbed at his head. It felt like it would split open from all the information pulsing into it.

“Breathe deeply,” Eli said. “I may have been a little sloppy in the execution there, but I think I undid whatever it was that was masking your identity.”

Tom clearly remembered going to bed next to his wife, then waking up in Shiloh’s body the next morning. All of the things “Tom Brady” was doing--that was Shiloh in his body! He was suddenly full of rage, his fists balling up even though he knew there was next-to-no strength behind them.

“Motherfucker!” Tom said. He hated the fact that Eli’s body loomed over his head--what was he now, 5’6” tall? He knew, somehow, that he weighed exactly 115 pounds. “Fuck, he… he shoved me into his old life, and took mine…”

“It’s okay,” Eli said. He put a hand on Tom’s shoulder but the little guy jerked away. “We can undo it. I just had to get you to remember who you were before I could fix things.”

“Fuck!” Tom said as he paced around the room. He instantly remembered the way the other women on the cheer squad had demeaned him all week. He remembered how Ted Arcade, the Goliath’s center, had called him a faggot at the dining hall and slapped the tray out of his hand. Holy shit, all the things Ty had made him do the past few days--and he had wanted to do it! The whole time, none of them knew that it was Tom Brady, the greatest quarterback of all time, drowning in humiliation while someone else took over--and ruined!--his life.

“Tell me how,” Tom said as he started to regain his composure. “What’s the plan? You have a magic thing or something? Just undo this, now!”

Eli nodded. “Honestly, I’m just impressed I could get this far. See, if you still had all of Shiloh’s power, I could just have you read out of this book and… I dunno, turn every player on the Vikings into actual vikings. Seriously, Shiloh has next level power. But he’s also smart. He would have thought of that. So he probably brought his power with him. But if I can swap you guys back, that means he’d be stuck in his old body with no power, and you’d be Tom Brady again…”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying I’m gonna have magic powers after all this is over?”

Eli shrugged. “Not like you need them, but hey, they couldn’t hurt, right? At least you can undo everything Shiloh is doing to your life.”

Tom shook his head. “The last thing I need is people accusing me of cheating because I’m a goddamned sorcerer. But at least I could probably get my wife and kids back and erase all the gay rumors, right?”

Eli nodded. “If you need help wielding all those magicks, just call me, okay?”

“So how do we swap me back?”

Eli unrolled a scroll. “I think this will do it. It’s the best I could come up with in short notice, but I wanted to get things swapped before it got out of control, you know?”

Tom shrugged. “Look, I’m only about five minutes into knowing that magic is even a thing, so… just do what you have to.”

“Okay, put this on,” Eli said. He handed a Patriots jersey--#12, of course--over to Tom. “But take off Shiloh’s clothes. We don’t want any of his energy fucking this up.”

Tom held it against his body, shocked at how small he looked in it. “Fuck,” he said. “God damn, this kid is tiny!” It hung nearly to his knees. He was grateful it hid his shame; Shiloh’s cock was a good seven inches shorter than the one he was used to swinging from his groin. He glanced at the clock. “Holy shit, there’s a game right now, isn’t there? That fucker’s on the field in my body!”

Eli nodded. “Don’t worry. I’m betting he kept your skills in the transfer. But that means you’re going to pop back into the right body on the field, maybe in the middle of a play. We can wait until the game is over, if you want.”

“Fuck no,” Tom said. “I don’t want that fucker enjoying one more moment of my life.”

Eli nodded. He started to read from the scroll. Tom never heard any of the words. Rather, he felt them, pulsing through his body, hitting them like massive shockwaves. After the third one, he could no longer hold on. He felt himself blown away, spinning out into space, tumbling through an endless expanse of nothingness. There was nothing to grab for, nothing to slow his descent. He could just fall and hope he landed in the right place.

*

Tom blinked as a spandex-clad ass came into focus in front of his face. It was seconds before he realized he was on the field, in the middle of a game, just as Eli had promised. David Andrews, the center, hiked the ball to him so hard it knocked the wind out of him. He collapsed to the ground, wheezing, as he looked at his hands. They were still the skinny little fingers of Shiloh. He patted his head, wondering why he wasn’t wearing a helmet. He heard a ref’s whistle as his teammates started to crowd around him.

Tom stood up weakly, dropping the football as he realized he was still in Shiloh’s body! He felt his teammates grabbing at him, shoving him around. “How the fuck did he get here?” one asked. “Who the fuck is this little shit?”

“It’s me!” Tom wheezed. “I’m Tom!” David reached down and yanked the jersey off Tom’s body, exposing his tiny frame and his itty-bitty dick for everyone to see. Tom’s whole body blushed as he realized the whole country would be watching videos of him, as Shiloh, nude, for years to come.

Security hand-cuffed him and escorted him from the field while people conjectured wildly about what had happened to the real Tom. He knew he had to get back in touch with Eli, somehow, but all memory of Shiloh’s life (save for the few days Tom had lived himself) had been wiped from his memory.

* * *

EPILOGUE

“Did you really think that was going to work, you little shit?”

The voice seemed to come from all around Eli. It made the room shake.

From his point of view, after Eli had read the words on the scroll and exerted the proper amount of magical force, “Shiloh’s” eyes went blank. Then his body started to grow until the little cheerleader was nearly as tall as he was. He watched the body fill out with muscle and hair. When it was over, Tom Brady, in uniform, was standing before him.

Then an invisible force flung Eli against the wall where he remained trapped, suspended a foot off the floor by sheer magical power alone.

“I felt you the moment you broke my hex on that pathetic little body,” Shiloh, in Tom’s body, said. His eyes had gone completely dark. Each looked like a miniature starry night sky. Shiloh hovered several inches above the floor, floating so close to Eli that their noses were touching. “I’m impressed you were able to break it, but it was a simple matter to twist your own spell around. Do you want to know what I’ve been up to?”

Eli went to protest, but he suddenly found his mouth was gone. Below his nose was just a smooth patch of skin, like nothing had ever been there before.

“A couple of my old buddies--guys you and your teammates used to bully for being ‘fags’--are really loving their lives as professional football players now. And all those football players have to live as scrawny little gay men and they can’t even tell anyone about it!” Dark clouds started to form on the ceiling as a fog rolled across the floor. “Belicheck’s in the body of a chihuahua now. I left his body empty so I could use it as my own puppet. He follows my own programming. And it was a simple matter to regress big dopey Gronk into a horny caveman. He can’t form a sentence anymore but he sure loves to fuck and get fucked. You’d be impressed with all the muscle he got during the devolution too. So you see, Eli, it’s going to be a simple matter to deal with you. And I have the perfect punishment.”

Suddenly Eli’s view of the room was gone. He couldn’t move his legs, but he found himself staring at a wall of fabric. Everything was humid and smelled like the strongest B.O. he’d ever experienced. He wanted to scream--but couldn’t, with no mouth--as the fabric pulled away and he found himself looking up at Tom Brady’s GIGANTIC face staring down at him.

He looked down to find everything below his waist was a penis shaft above to huge balls--Tom Brady’s balls, he realized. Before he could react, he felt his arms melt away. Everything below his neck was Tom Brady’s cock now. He felt relieved when the blank center of his face burst open, but instead of words, all that came from the new “mouth” was a spurt of salty white fluid.

Tom’s huge hand came down and wrapped around Eli’s “body”--he instinctively tensed up, overwhelmed by a powerful pleasure.

“That’s right, Eli. Your reward for making all this possible is: you get to be Tom Brady’s cock! You’ll get to know that body of Gronk you wanted so bad--up close and personal! And it won’t stop there. I’m going to fuck every beautiful man I’ve ever wanted, and I’ll leave them all scrawny little trolls after I’m done with them. And nobody can stop me! The real Tom Brady is going to end up stuck in that tiny little body forever, and he’s probably going to jail. Do you wonder what they’ll do to him there?”

Eli’s eyelids felt heavy and he found he couldn’t keep them open anymore. When they closed, they vanished, and he realized he was just a cock with no resemblance to his human self anymore. “I guess you don’t wonder anything at all anymore,” said a powerful voice from all around him. “I guess all you do is get hard and cum now. So let’s take you for a test drive.”

Eli knew he should be horrified, but all he felt was pleasure, and a massive surge of hot fluid building up beneath him, ready to erupt.