I Was Born For That Body (Patreon)

This 1,692 word story was based off a prompt by patron Makeatori. Thanks for all the support and I hope you enjoy!

I could never put into words the feeling that lingered at the edge of my consciousness for the better part of my life, but things finally made sense when I first laid my eyes on Ryan Wessex. As I took in his muscular frame and handsome face for the first time, I was struck by a single undeniable thought: I was born for that body.

Finally all of the misery I had endured throughout my twenty-seven years alive made sense. I had only ever been unhappy because my spirit, my soul, my self, had been trapped inside an improper shell. The body I had worn every day up until that point hadn’t actually belonged to me; it was what Ryan was supposed to have. He was supposed to be the one standing at six-foot-five but without any muscle mass to speak of to offset that height. The body I’d been trapped in was a beanpole with stick-thin limbs and an almost gaunt quality to its face. I’d always disliked the vast plains of my forehead and considered the nose a little too thin. The ears poked out a little too much and the hair was embarrassingly thin for a man of my age. Wonky teeth, beady eyes, bad acne. There was seemingly no end to the faults.

I felt so much better about all those flaws knowing they were actually his.

Of course, he was blind to the fact that our bodies had obviously been displaced, and I wasn’t foolish enough to reveal the truth to him. He was so entrenched in his ignorance that there would no doubt he would fall into a state of denial and do anything within his power to stop us from gaining our true forms. After all, he’d spent his whole life thinking he was an alpha male. Learning that he was destined to be nothing more than a beta would be absolutely crushing for his psyche. He’d come to understand that it was his proper place once he was firmly tucked into the underwhelming husk of this body while I ascended to the status of alpha, my rightful place.

Organising things so that we could finally be deposited into our rightful bodies was a difficult challenge but while the physical form I wore was weak, my mental state was anything but. Once I had my mind set on something, I would always see it through, and I’d never undertaken such an important task before. There had never been anything more essential than getting into that body and settling into the life that Ryan Wessex had merely been keeping warm for me. As such, I was eventually to get a plan into place and although it came at a steep price, I thought nothing of it. My finances would soon be his, after all. I wondered how much he would struggle to adapt to the measly income I earned as a shelf-stacker at the local superstore, while he was flush with cash from his sponsorship deals as a fitness influencer. He’d got my body to a good position, that was for sure. While I bore no love towards him for keeping my rightful life from me for so long, I was at least appreciative that he had made such good work with it. I could not say the same for him, but given his status as a beta, his quality of life was of little concern to me.

It was through connections I had made on the dark web that I was able to set Ryan and myself on course for our destinies. As the exchange date approached I was sent a file detailing how I would be installed into my rightful body, and I re-read the document no less than ten times over the next few days to ensure that I was completely clued in to what would happen. The process was achieved by having the subjects wear helmets powered by some impossible mix of science and magic. How such a device came to be invented I wasn’t aware, but there were numerous testimonies from people who had undergone exchanges through the machine. Of course, there was every chance I was being duped out of my life savings, but I clung to hope like it was a liferaft.

On that fateful morning a heavily encrypted email arrived in my inbox and when decoded it provided an address in the heart of the city. I took off like the devil himself was hot on my heels, cursing the slowness of public transport throughout the  torturous hour-long journey. The address led me to an old office block that had been abandoned some years previously, where a tall woman in a sleek black suit waited. Upon confirming my identity, she led me into an elevator and then down to a sub-basement floor. Upon entering the surprisingly high-tech laboratory, I gasped involuntarily. In the center of the room were two steel chairs with bindings along the arms, legs and back, and in one of them, Ryan Wessex was struggling against the straps. One of the helmets was already firmly locked around his temple. His terrified gaze shot towards us and there was a flash of familiarity as his gaze met mine. Even from behind his gag I could hear his screams intensify. Nobody was going to help him though. For the first time in his life, he was completely powerless. How his life should have always been.

My heart thundered in my chest as I took the seat across from Ryan and allowed myself to be strapped in by the leather binds. I flinched at how tight they were but a little bit of discomfort was worth what I knew was soon coming. The helmet descended to sit on my head like I was a king being crowned, and then everything got very quiet. My eyes remained locked with Ryan’s and excitement rippled through every inch of my body, prompting a physical reaction that the apha impostor was all but forced to notice. I relished in his disgust. It would soon only intensify.

The activation of the system was announced by a humming noise from the helmet and gentle vibrations from the device prompted my body to tense up. Within seconds though the vibrations had escalated to such a degree that my head was throbbing in agony, as if my skull had been placed between two blocks of steel slowly pressing together and crushing it. The pain caused me to screw my eyes tight shut and mercifully just a few seconds later I was encompassed by a sudden sensation of weightlessness. I could no longer feel the constraints pinching at my wrists and ankles, nor the pressure of the helmet on my head. In fact I couldn’t even feel the clothes I wore, or the boots on my feet. I was still blind to the world but my brain attempted to paint a picture of what was happening. It seemed as if I had lost my corporeal form and was nothing more than an invisible presence lingering outside of space and time.

Then, as quickly as it had happened, it was over. I was once again reunited with a solid form but I could tell from the even tighter restrictions of the leather straps that it wasn’t the same form I had entered the lab with. It had worked.

Prying open my eyes, I stared across at the weak body across from me. It had always disgusted me to see such a disappointment in the mirror; now I would never have to again. Even as the gag and restraints were removed, my attention remained on the body I had thankfully given to its rightful owner. The new Frankie Politz thrashed wildly until one of the scientists approached him and stuck a syringe into his neck, pumping him full of a chemical that sent him into such a deep state of relaxation that his eyes rolled back into his head. I initially thought that the injection had killed him and expressed my disappointment as such, but they assured me that he was still very much alive and would remain in their care for some time in order to properly indoctrinate him into his new identity so that he wouldn’t attempt to cause me any troubles in my new life. I wasn’t concerned about that though. As if anybody would ever believe that a beta bitch like him could have ever been an alpha male like me!

It’s been three months since I was finally given access to the body and life that should have always been mine and it’s everything I anticipated it to be. There were of course a few close friends of “Ryan” who questioned the small changes in his attitude over recent weeks but they always back down when I challenge them, knowing that just being in my social circle elevates their status. My social media numbers have been on a steady incline and barely a day goes by without me introducing a new girl (and, when the desire strikes, a new guy) to my delightful body. They’re lured in by my dominant personality and kept interested by the huge muscles and jaw-dropping manhood. Simply put, they treat me like the god I’ve always known myself to be.

I don’t know what’s become of Frankie. I haven’t seen him since the exchange and I don’t suspect I’ll be seeing him ever again. There’s a part of me that hopes he does though, just so I can lord over him how he’d deluded himself into believing he was a real man when the truth was that he was nothing more than a hole to be used and discarded. I can imagine him now: tears rolling down his cheeks, painfully hard and desperately begging to serve. Maybe I’d let him, maybe I’d just kick his ass. They’re both fun possibilities.

Even if that never happens though, I know I’ll be content. Living this life for the past few months has proved that my initial thought upon seeing it was right after all - I really was born for this body!