An Interview with a Succubus (muscle theft)

Power can be fun, but when abused, it loses its shine. It becomes a burden and then a dead weight. But then again, it can be a whole lot of fun as well.

It's fun to walk into a gym, pick your unsuspecting victim, wait for the right moment and then just do it. Take it away, take all he was and change it in an instant. Well, not quite that quick but hey, seems like an instant sometimes. I can do it to a guy in five minutes--that's pretty fast. I think that's the record time. I'm not too sure anymore. Like I said, I'm getting pretty bored here.

I remember this one guy I got. It was sooo cool. He was like so into himself. He thought he was the shit and I guess he really was. I mean. Hell, I was impressed. He did look good, too good for his own good that was. He was this model guy. His name was something like John Powers. I think that was it. Come on, was that a made up name or what? Anyways, I saw him one day and he was talking away about a shoot he was going to be in, a shoot to help Levi's get back on top or something. I mean, he was cute, good-looking, well-built and would have been a good model for them but I stepped in and did what I always do and I ruined it for him. I don't know why I do these things. I just do.

I guess I better tell you a little about him, no? He was really cute. He was about like 6' maybe and really tightly built, I'd say 175 lbs., maybe 180, somewhere in that area, but well-muscled. I remember when he took his shirt off. I was like, Man, FUCK ME DUDE! I was impressed. I loved it. (You would have too.) I mean how could I not like that! His hair was perfect. It was just ever so curled and thick. It was an off-brown shade, almost blonde, I guess you'd say. When the wind caught it, it blew so easily with it. Long beautiful bangs draped down and danced in his eyes and touched that cute sloped nose of his. Deep blue, that was the color of his eyes dude. Deep, deep blue like the sea.

But that body--it was the shit, dude. It was perfect in form and shape. It was the shit dude; truly the shit! I think I feel guilty about this. I think I'm feeling for the guy... I... I... Got to stop for a second... gotta get my bearings here!

Ok... Ok I'm back! I'm back.. Ok. Where were we? Oh yeah. The guy's body! The guy's body was like perfect, man. Ok, I mean his legs did justice to his jeans; I mean, they really did. I could see he worked out! AND A LOT too! They just filled his jeans legs to capacity and every well-trained muscle showed big time from his quads to his calves; they were a smorgasbord for the eyes.

Well, now that you know what he used to look like, here comes the part where you hate me! The part that tells you and your readers to hate me right. The part where he gets changed--the good part! I sometimes have to be in contact with the guy I'm doing but not always. Sometimes, like this time I was able to do it from a distance. He didn't even know I was there. I watched as he paraded around every tight muscle reacting so well to his every movement. His pecs and slightly hairy chest reacted to his twists and turns. His biceps reacted and tightened to firm mounds of muscle with just the slightest of actions by his well-muscled forearms. I'm hot just thinking about it... sorry, I was saying?

Oh yeah. I looked at him and began he to change ever so slightly. At first his big chest, the one he was so proud of, paid the first price; it shrank down noticeably in minutes but he wasn't aware just yet. We could see it had shrunk in size and his delts weren't as wide as they were. His whole torso looked almost plain now. I let others notice it; that's always fun to do. I took from his arms' musculature. Next, they dwindled to match his now almost straight up and down torso. He still had a bit of his broad shoulders and broad back but I took that next and now as walked around looking fairly average. I took his legs mass quickly. I took it without remorse and thought his jeans started slipping down as wrinkles filled in the areas where thick muscles used to be. He was thinning fast and now he knew it. He struggled to keep the embarrassment of exposing himself from our eyes although I think his mind was somewhere else at that moment. He looked down as he was forced to hold up his jeans. No doubt he saw his own ribs were all he had for structure to his torso. Now his waist couldn't have been more then 26" around now and bone thin legs held up his torso of equally bony structure.

Needless to say, he didn't get that modeling job. I remember he stumbled around in very baggy-looking jeans; he was so skinny and so confused. I couldn't help but laugh. Well, this interview's over. There are other tales to be told. All you need to do is contact me and ask for them. Bye.

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