Vessels

Big Chris was excited to see me that morning. He gave me a high-five that echoed through the gym like thunder and hustled his enormous body upstairs to the gym’s posing room to show off his progress. He had no idea what I had in store for him. That’s the thing with mortals. They’re so sure they know everything there is to know, they’re completely defenseless when beings like me come along. I grabbed my own gym bag and slung it over my shoulder. Inside, glass bottles clinked against each other.

In front of the mirror, Chris stripped down, revealing a physique I would have never dreamt of before. His body was freakish but incredible. Ebony, hairless skin, bulging and rippling in the most impressive display of human musculature that I’d discovered on this mortal plan thus far. He was practically four feet wide, dark, granite flesh I was dying to get my hands on. As far as he knew, I was his best buddy and lifting partner Derek.

Even as Chris’ freshly exposed flesh tantalized me, I still couldn’t be distracted from my own massive body. I was wearing a blue tank top that hugged my big pecs--I bounced them each in turn for my own enjoyment--and bright blue compression tights that looked shrink-wrapped around my wide legs. I often liked to stand next to the other men in the gym, so confident in their size and masculinity, and quietly compare the width of my thick quads with their waists. Often my legs were bigger. It felt amazing stomping around on so much power, and to plant one heel and wobble the big muscles back and forth… what a sensation on my greedy little fingers!

Still, it’s better to enjoy the body of another, which is why I, after achieving this beautiful form everyone knew as “Derek,” Brazilian super-heavyweight bodybuilder and over 300 pounds of honed human flesh, I decided to find another vessel just as beautiful as mine to convert just as I had this one. I met Chris after spending only one day as Derek, miming out the minutiae of his life as I decided what my next step should be. It seemed like fate, the forces of nature converging to offer me a pile of masculinity carved from obsidian--bigger than all others--immediately, as if on a platter.

Almost more impressive than Chris’ gargantuan physique were his neon-orange posing trunks--or rather, what was inside them. Chris wore posing trunks under all of his clothes. It took little prodding to get him to peel down his shorts, even in the middle of his workout, to see him bare nearly all. So proud of his hard-earned mass that Chris would flex with little provocation. As Derek, I had easily manipulated him into showing me the body I craved so much (especially that overstuffed, manly bulge between his equally impressive quads!), not only more intently explore the body I coveted so much but also to titillate my own little dick.

Chris’ big, lemon-sized balls hung just below a large, floppy cock. His posing trunks were specially made to accommodate all that sausage. I could clearly see his cock-head through the trunks, and as I thrust a foot down at the floor to flex his quads I felt my own mouth salivate as the cock head wiggled back and forth. I imagined him doing jumping jacks nude after I’d worked that cock into a frenzy, watching that dark bat swing down between his tree trunk legs before coming back up to slap his turtle-shell of an abdomen.

Soon enough I planned on lying beneath him while he lowered that silky sack of manmeat down on my face. I couldn’t wait to feel its heat and weight on my face as he purred and cooed at me and tweaked the nipples on my mountainous chest muscles. Ah, the perks of flesh! As limited as corporeal bodies were, there were so many things about them to enjoy. I was ever grateful to both Derek and Chris that their obsession with their own meatforms was so great that they would expand them to these absurd, but incredibly sensual, magnitudes.

My own little dick jumped inside my compression tights. Poor Derek’s dick was just a little thimble. What little nature had given him dwindled away after years of chemical abuse, pushing his body to swell much larger than it was ever meant to be at the cost of his shriveled cock and balls. It had been a fair tradeoff when I became Derek, though. While so much pleasure of being in these mortal bodies came from their big, powerful cocks, Derek had other avenues of enjoyment, and this gigantic form with all of its bulges and strength was absolutely worth it. The real Derek never discovered this, but deep within the crack of his powerful glute muscles lay some very sensitive areas. I’d discovered (and enjoyed) all of them, making that shriveled little cock leak while I purred and moaned with a vibrating device buried between my melon-sized glutes. Oh, what a feeling. Derek’s body had so much to love.

The time had come, I decided, for Chris’ ownership of his big body to end. While he posed, throwing up amazing arms in a double biceps pose, then leaning forward into a most-muscular as he crunched every muscle in his titanic upper body, I slipped a fist-sized jar from my gym bag. The contents inside glowed brilliantly for a moment, then faded. Despite the cork plugging it tight, the jar appeared empty after that one flash. I stroked the jar lovingly as I stood up to take a spot next to Chris.

“How am I lookin’?” he said arrogantly, sticking out his tongue and making his big biceps jump. I had to smile.

“So perfect you wouldn’t believe it,” I said. Derek would have never said anything like that, but my time impersonating that ape was over now that I was so close to claiming my prize. If he noticed that my words, seemed strange, he didn’t let on. He just kept flexing his big dark muscles like the braindead musclehead he was. No, he didn’t deserve to exist in flesh that was so perfect. I pulled the cork from the bottle and set it on the floor next to him.

To passersby in the gym, Chris just paused for a moment, blinked and then smiled. The other gymgoers couldn’t view the astral plane, so they had no idea that when I pulled the cork from the bottle, a brilliant mass of light poured from it, spiraled in the air, and converged in a ball just next to Chris’ huge body.

With my astral senses, I watched as the light punched forward, knocking Chris from his body. Guys like Chris believed their power was in their flesh. They had never harnessed the strength of their own spirit. So when Chris’ soul was pushed from his body, he floated there in midair, baffled, his “eyes” wide as he tried to figure out how he was outside himself, why he was floating helplessly. He waved his powerful “arms,” trying to swim back into his huge, powerful form, but that’s not how the astral plane worked.

Meanwhile, the ball of light flowed into Chris’ form effortlessly, merging with the flesh and claiming it instantly. When it last had a name, that ball of light had been known as Efrec. Back when I called him that, my name was Tehmet. But since I appreciated these physical forms so much more than the last time we had mortal bodies, I had considered switching permanently to this body’s name in honor of its beauty. I wondered if “Efrec” would do the same.

Chris’ spirit swirled around, starting to lose its shape. (Astrally underdeveloped souls generally clung to their physical forms, even though they were meaningless as spirits. It was cute to watch fools like Chris expend energy trying not to discorporate even though they were completely powerless with beings like Efrec and I around.) The bottle, which was mystical in nature, pulled Chris’ disembodied spirit toward it like a vacuum. Chris fought the pull but the days of his strength were long over. He melted and swirled as he disappeared, bit by bit, into the vortex of the bottle. When the last of him was slurped inside, I plugged it with a cork.

None of the other mortals around us were any the wiser. I gazed inside the bottle to watch the dark brown mist swirling and shifting. Every so often I would see Chris’ face start to form, along with hands starting to take shape from the mist, pounding helplessly against the bottle’s mystical glass. I gave the bottle a shake, certainly frustrating the struggling and bewildered soul as he tried to figure out what had happened to him.

“What a magnificent form you found for me, my love,” Efrec said as he ran his hands along the rippling flesh Chris had spent his whole life cultivating.

“Once I saw it,” I said, “I knew it was the perfect vessel for you.”

We left the gym then. When Efrec left Chris’ gym bag behind, I knew right away what he desired: just like the last time we were together in flesh, we would leave behind the lives of our bodies and strike out on our own. In a place where no one knew us, we would spend our days building up our flesh, lifting weights and injecting chemicals and eating to push our bodies even closer to their absolute peak. We would spend our nights tirelessly exploiting the pleasures of these flesh forms.

Just before we left the gym, I motioned for Efrec to wait. He paused and I walked into the locker room, still basking in the immediate reverence smaller men gave me when they saw my hulking physique. I picked a locker at random and opened up my gym bag, pulling out the two corked glass bottles. Just before placing them on the shelf, I peered inside each. In one, I could see Chris’ face forming, mouthing words he had no voice to speak, trying to make a fist to beat ineffectually against his glass prison. In the other, only Derek’s eyes appeared, looking sad and panicked as he realized I was about to leave him behind.

It had been by accident that Derek had found me. He had been doing a photoshoot on the beach when the box Efrec and I were trapped in washed ashore. The photographer noticed nothing as big dopey Derek pulled the cork from my bottle and I easily forced him from his body. What a joy it was to suddenly feel contained in such powerful flesh! I remember as I flexed just to explore the form I had just taken over, the photographer started snapping photos. “Too good, Derek! Too good! Keep it going.”

Meanwhile, big powerful Derek found himself suddenly bottled up. There he remained all these weeks as I lived his life, taunting him nightly as I showed him all the beautiful brawn he would never have again.

As I slid the bottles to the back of the locker, I waved at the two trapped souls and closed the locker. Maybe someone would find the bottles and uncork them. I doubted Chris or Derek would figure out how to take control of a physical form, but maybe they would get lucky. Maybe they would just drift away on an endless astral breeze, silently floating off to nowhere for all of eternity. Or maybe the bottles would get tossed into the garbage and the two would remain sealed away until the earth finally met its demise.

I didn’t care anymore. I was off to explore the massive body of my dark lover.