Pikesburg PD, ch. 7 (Patreon)

Greg stared in impotent horror, helpless to do anything other than watch from his disembodied vantage point.  He saw himself from a distance of a few feet above, floating like an invisible cloud while someone, or something, wore his body like a set of clothes.  He wanted to scream, to fight, but he was little more than a speck of awareness, and a small one at that.  

“Don’t worry,” the unwanted hijacker purred in his mind.  “This doesn’t have to be unpleasant for you.  I’m just...borrowing...your physical form for a bit.  And what a form it is.”  

Greg watched himself run a hand across his firm pecs and down his stomach to give his bulge a quick squeeze through his pants, feeling every second of it.  He didn’t know if he should be relieved or terrified that he could still experience what was happening to him even though he wasn’t behind the wheel.  

From his elevated vantage point he could see Johnny on the other side of the floor, his stocky, naked body still writhing in time to the pulsing music.  His friend’s stout, thick cock was rigid again, bobbing and wagging like a tail as he popped his hips and twerked his plump cheeks.  He was still stunned by the older man’s reaction.  He’d rushed to the bar expecting to find Johnny terror stricken like Tank had been, not resigned to the point of eagerness.  

“He was always talking about men like these, wasn’t he?  Don’t you think a part of him was always a little jealous?”  The voice rang through Greg’s awareness in stereo, circling around him like it was stalking prey.  Greg was desperate to give voice to even one of the countless questions and protests coursing through him, but all he could do was float.  “You get used to that after a while.  The bodiless sensation, I mean.  It has its advantages, but...”  Greg watched himself roll his head on his shoulders and take a deep breath, obviously scanning the room until he landed on the shirtless brunette from earlier.  “...the physical can only be denied for so long.”  

The disembodied young man wished that he could shout a warning.  He tried to force his perspective down, to zoom in close, to somehow signal the unsuspecting hunk that he was in danger.  The only response was a soft chuckle and a strange tingling sensation from where his palm should have been as his body stepped up behind the man at the bar and rested a hand on his lower back.  

“Am I in trouble?” the handsome young man asked.  He’d watched Greg’s approach in the mirror behind the bar and turned to face him with a smug, expectant grin.  

No longer distracted by the urgent search for his friend, Greg noticed just how striking the other man actually was.  Beneath the expertly styled, chocolate hair his face was framed by sharp cheekbones and a lantern jaw as it sat on top of his muscular shoulders.  The other man’s prominent pecs were almost perfectly round and covered in what looked to be a carefully maintained smattering of wiry hairs that spread down his tapering, washboard stomach.  On either side hung a pair of large, solid arms that balanced out the thick, sturdy legs straining against his fitted jeans.  

“Billy, right?  I think you wanted to touch this earlier,” Greg said, grabbing Billy’s hand and pressing it against his own stuffed bulge.  

The handsome brunette grinned and gave a squeeze.  “So is this a felony?”  Greg’s floating consciousness lit up as his body stepped forward and pressed its lips against the other man’s.  He felt Billy tense up in surprise before relaxing into it, their tongues wrestling for dominance.  

Greg was overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.  Instead of muting the sensations, the lack of a physical body seemed to magnify them, his floating awareness turning into a cloud of ecstasy with the slightest touch.  

“My place is only a few blocks away,” Billy panted, his sculpted chest heaving when they finally broke off the kiss.  

“Lead the way,” Greg heard himself say.  From above, he could see that all eyes in the bar had focused on the shirtless stud and the handsome police officer as they hurried out, hand in hand.  He was whisked along when they climbed into his cruiser.  Floating behind the caged divider in the backseat like a prisoner while Billy’s strong hand kneaded his stolen thigh, Greg couldn’t help but notice the irony.  

There was no conversation when they reached Billy’s apartment.  Before the door had even finished closing, Billy was on him.  The still-shirtless brunette’s tongue felt like it was swallowing Greg’s consciousness whole as he ran it along his neck.  The being that had taken over his form wore a predatory grin while it let Billy undo his shirt, then his belt and pants, until he stood in nothing but his tented boxer briefs.  

Billy took a step back and looked Greg’s leanly muscled body up and down with hungry eyes.  “I thought you redheads were supposed to be smaller than that,” he laughed, tugging down the front of Greg’s underwear to let the aching rod spring free.  

“I’m just full of surprises,” the stranger in his body said, grinning directly up at Greg’s hovering vantage point as Billy dropped to his knees and wrapped his soft, full lips around his rigid cock.  Greg heard himself let out a prolonged sigh just before his world exploded into a rainbow of pleasure.  Each dart of bliss caused his perception to swirl in kaleidoscopic fashion until Billy’s apartment had melted away to a psychedelic landscape of melting and blending colors.  “I forgot how nice this was,” the stranger purred, running his hands through Billy’s thick brown hair.  

The kneeling hunk grinned up at him and gave Greg’s solid bubble a squeeze.  “Just wait til we get to the best part,” he said, standing and pulling Greg along behind him by the spit-slick rod.  When they reached the bedroom he pushed the ginger officer down onto the bed and slowly undid his jeans, swaying his hips as he pushed the tight denim down to reveal the throbbing beast underneath.  

“Impressive.”  Even through the overwhelming tides of pleasure, Greg could feel the hunger in his hijacker’s voice.  That hunger only grew when Billy tugged his briefs down and let his thick, eight inch club stand eagerly before him.  The bodiless young officer tried to hold on, but he was having a harder and harder time telling where his awareness ended and the stranger’s began.  Looking at the striking adonis in front of him he knew he shouldn’t want the other man so desperately, but he felt a longing that bordered on painful.  

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Billy said, climbing on top of Greg and grinding their aching members together as they kissed.  The sensory input was more than the addled ginger could handle.  Each prickly hair on the other man’s muscled thighs felt like a live wire as his stolen hands ran over them, and the long, thick hose digging into his stomach was like a battering ram.  The voice in his head chuckled again, laughing at a joke that only it knew.  “I don’t...want to...brag…” Billy said between mouthfuls of Greg’s tongue, “...but you’re...in...for a good...night…” 

Greg couldn’t decide if it was excitement or terror that filled him when he felt himself roll over on the bed with Billy lining up behind him.  He knew what was coming, but nothing could have prepared him for the senses-shattering intensity when Billy worked himself inside.  Greg had just enough time for a rush of humiliation at the sight of his toned body on all fours being entered from behind by another man before being swept away.  Each of Billy’s deep, forceful thrusts felt like they were penetrating his entire being.  The steady pumping of the other man’s hips was the motion of the cosmos, the clockwork rhythm that moved the stars and planets above them.  At least at first.  

Little by little, Greg felt his newfound enlightenment slipping away.  Billy’s abdomen slammed against his tight rear with the same force, but the blissfully full sensation was increasingly absent.  

“Something wrong,” Greg heard himself ask as Billy’s pounding fell out of synch.  

“Sorry,” the other man said awkwardly, his ample behind dimpling as he thrust again and again.  He blushed and paused to catch his breath.  “I don’t know what’s going on...this has, uh, never actually happened before.  Maybe we should switch...positio…” 

Had he been able to, Greg would have gasped at the sight when Billy pulled himself free.  Instead of a thick club, the gorgeous stud had a small nub, no more than a few inches at most, poking out from between his solid quads.  

“What...this isn’t…” Billy stammered, his brow furrowing as he clutched at his shrunken equipment.  

“Isn’t what?  Yours?  Of course it is.”  From his unwanted vantage point, Greg could actually feel the world warp around them.  A hot wind washed over him, exploding out from the necklace that he now understood was never meant to protect him, leaving a different reality in its wake.  

“No!”  Billy cried, his eyes wide with shock.  “I’m the best top in this goddamn town!  I…”  

“With that little thing?  Then what’s with those?”  Greg’s arm pointed over at the array of variously sized vibrators that had suddenly appeared on the nightstand.  One was even mounted on the wall not far from the bed.  

“I...those aren’t...mine?”  Greg could tell that Billy was trying to hold on to the dual memories filling his mind.  His burly arms inflated as he clutched at his head, a position that only accentuated just how much his miniscule cock had lost.  

“What about that?” Greg could hear the amusement dripping from the stranger’s voice as he pointed over at the pile of clothes next to the bed.  Billy’s granite body went red with embarrassment, then pale with fear, as he looked at the altered clothes.  Instead of his usual briefs there was a tiny jockstrap, but more jarring was the large, open hole on the back of his jeans.  The handsome stud’s eyes widened when he suddenly remembered himself walking around with his large, solid rear on display for everyone.  And not just at the club, but everywhere.  

“No...no...that’s not right…”  he said in a hoarse whisper.  “This isn’t possible…” 

“ANYTHING’S possible,” the stranger said, slipping a hand between Billy’s cheeks and laughing when the other man spasmed.  

“OOHHHH!”  Billy groaned, arching his back and clutching at Greg’s shoulders.  “Wha...what the fuck was that…” 

Greg smiled and let go, shifting around behind Billy and plunging inside in one agile motion.  The chiseled adonis in his arms howled like a beast as he fell forward on the bed, clutching at the sheets.  

“Oh fuck...oh fuck...oh fuck…” Billy whimpered again and again, falling in time with Greg’s thrusting without realizing what he was doing.  Before he’d even lifted his head from the mattress the handsome stud had taken control, working Greg’s cock like he had a third hand.  “What am...what am I doing…” he gasped, surprised by both his own expert actions and how natural everything felt.  

“What you’re...best at…” the stranger grunted.  

Billy groaned again, whether from lust or horror Greg couldn’t tell.  He knew the other man was wrestling with the knowledge that, despite all evidence, he really wasn’t a micro-dicked power bottom.  He could clearly recall being a hung top, and yet there he was, working his muscled globes like a pro while his aching little nub and barely-present balls oozed uselessly between his strong thighs.  As with Tank, Greg knew that Billy was trying to wrap his head around the idea of strutting through life with his altered body on display, regardless of how impossible that should have been.  Another mortified flash ran across Billy’s face when he finally came, his little new rod spurting out a few pitiful drops at best.  He thought about his friends while Greg finished, unsure whether he was really the cocky stud lording his size over all of them, or the eager hole constantly begging to get fucked.  

“Ooooof, I needed that,” Greg heard himself sigh contentedly as he looked down at the still-stunned Billy.  “I see why everyone says you’re so good at that,” he added, knowing it would only further confuse the altered stud.  

Greg wondered if Billy knew he was responsible.  The way the other man looked up at him with pleading eyes, he hoped not.  “But I’m...not?”  Billy stammered, looking down again at his mostly absent package.  

“I’ve got a shift to get back to,” the stranger said, ignoring the other man’s obvious confusion.  He clapped Billy on the thigh as he stood.  “I’ll see myself out.”  Greg had time for one last look at the chiseled stud whose now-soft member was barely visible in his chestnut bush before he was back in the kitchen watching himself get dressed.  The hunger he’d felt radiating off the stranger earlier was gone, replaced instead by a smug satisfaction.  

Just as Greg felt his hand close around the handle of Billy’s door, gravity seemed to find its hold on him once more.  Everything went dark as he plummeted, hurtling through an inky void until all at once the world snapped back into place around him.  

“Guuhh!”  Greg gasped, finding himself once again in control of his body.  He was behind the wheel of his cruiser back in his usual section of town, far from Billy’s apartment.  His hand shot towards the necklace to tear it free, but as soon as he made contact his fingers refused to cooperate.  

“Not so fast,” the stranger’s voice echoed in his head.  “We’re not done yet.”  

“Who...what...are you?!”  Greg asked the empty car.  “Why are you doing this?!”  

“You’ll learn the answers in time,” the voice said, its tone casual.  “All you need to understand is that you now work for me.”  

“The fuck I do!”  Greg tried to will his hand into motion as a searing, white-hot pain lanced up his arm.  

“Just once I’d like to meet a host who doesn’t have to be taught a lesson,” the voice sighed.