Number 17 (Patreon)

It was a bidding war today and number 17 was his catalogue number, the previous 16 hadn't got many bids if any at all. But number 17 was a huge hit. At first, I assumed we were just “voting” for the number who was the better looking but it didn't take me long to discover we were bidding. I didn't know what I was bidding on even and I was simply dragged into the bidding room by an usher.

Hundreds of men were bidding against each other all for number 17 but it wasn't until the final bid that I raised my hand. Then the room went into silence. Apparently, as a first-time bidder, the rules meant only I could win the default bid was selected at number 17’s listed price as starting from $1!

An usher came over with a card machine and $1 was debited from my account. I was then escorted to a room and number 17 walked in behind. He was basically naked with only his shorts, underwear, watch, earnings and necklace. In his hands, he held his black sneakers. He offered them to me, bowed and left the room.

I was baffled, had I just paid $1 for a pair of worn sneakers, why would I want them, I mean they were cheap but they were second hand and we're probably too small for me. Next, a man dressed as a scientist or doctor walked in he told me all I needed to do was wear the sneakers and everything would become clear, he looked strangely familiar. I tried to explain that the sneakers were marked with the number 40, if I was right that's a UK size 7, and they were never going to fit me. The man explained that no 17 was the last to wear these sneakers and that I would find the white socks he was also wearing inside the sneakers, putting these on would allow my adjusted feet to slip inside. Adjusted feet? I asked. Slip them on and all will become clear. That was all he said.

I picked up the sneakers, indeed there was a pair of crisp white socks inside. They were crisp and clean but had clearly been worn. They were slightly damp and still warm. As I picked them up I'm sure the skin on my hands and fingers became darker, I'm certain I noticed a playboy tattoo above my thumb, and my hands were also tingelling. I didn't think anything of it, I must have been imagining number 17’s hands. Then I put on the socks. I looked ridiculous they didn't even go over my ankles and we're more like sneaker socks. Soon though the tingling I had been feeling in my hands spread to my feet. The socks rode up my legs and covered around a quarter of my shins. Cool, self-sizing socks, I guess the sneakers do the same. That must be what I've bidder on!

I then went to put on the sneakers. As I did I'm sure I noticed some black stuff, possibly tattoo ink around my leg where the socks were touching me. I peered down the elasticated band of the socks and the black was no longer there. I put his sneakers on, weirdly they fit. Cool size changing speakers too. The scientist was still in the room. Grinning. He wisked away my own socks and shoes. He told me to sit down. It was then I noticed the room was a 360 mirror room.

The tingling I had felt in my feet and hands spread to my entire body. It intensified on my wrist, my neck, chest and ears. Looking around at all the mirrors I noticed I was now completely naked, I was more naked than no17 was. Then a watch appeared on my wrist, a necklace around my neck with a no17 on my chest and my ears became pierced and earnings hung off them. Nothing else was changing. But then the scientist tied the laces on the sneakers. Then changes started happening more quickly.

My hair grew longer, darker and curly, my body seemed to get shorter, my facial and body hair all but disappeared, I grew pecs and abs, my skin darkened and gained ink and then my cock stood to attention. Only it wasn't MY cock this wasn't MY body, it was no17’s body.

The scientist removed his white gown and cap, it was no17, I was a complete copy of him. I could smell the nicotine on my new fingers, taste the coffee on his breath and feel his desire from within. No17 gave me my bidding card, no40 it said on the back, with my name on the other side.

We are a match dude, you get my body for as long as you want. He slipped on my shoes and socks and I watched as he became me.

I, I, don't want this, I don't want to be you I want to be myself again.

Not possible I'm afraid, we matched. There was no way you could know my sneaks had a no40 on them, someone was getting my body today, but no one else would get to keep it, no one knew you'd have no40. The 40 although is my shoe size was to match us up. There's no way for you to go back to who you was. Enjoy.

He walked out of the room and I was whisked away for a promotional photo shoot.