A Twist of Fate (body swap)
by zulator
A story inspired by my good friend Booth.
The assembly announcement came over the schools Public Address system and teachers were instructed to have their student’s line up and head to the auditorium. I got my gym class together, dressed out still, and we proceeded from the gymnasium to the auditorium. The kids were anxious to find out what this was all about, and I have to admit that I was just as curious. Assemblies like this were only called if someone had died, and I was concerned that maybe the president was assassinated.
As the entire school filed into the room and took their seats, I noticed the large television screen lowered, and my stomach began to churn wondering what we were going to see.
Soon all the students were seated and the principle got up on the stage and walked over to the podium.
Students, faculty and guests, I am pleased to have you here today to witness a great day in world history! We will be showing you a miraculous event as it unfolds, live from Baghdad, and I wanted our students and faculty to witness this first hand.
With that the lights went down and the TV went on and it was a live feed from CNN from Baghdad, Iraq. Soon the announcer came on and announced that Saddam Hussein had been captured and we were going to see a live broadcast of him being brought into the Baghdad facility.
All across the room, I could hear cheers and whistles from the kids at that announcement and I was feeling really pumped knowing that we had finally captured this world leader who had caused so much death and terror in his country and around the world. For me, the surge of patriotism filled my body and I wasn’t paying attention to the hard on I was getting in my gym shorts as the pictures of Iraq were flashing in front of me.
Soon the announcer told us that we would be seeing the Dictator live and with a flash of pictures across the screen, there he was, handcuffed standing against the background of military men from the coalition forces.
A close up of his face was now flashed in front of our faces as they described how he was found and captured.
His face filled the large screen and you could see the sadness and humiliation in his expression as the camera focused on him. For a slight second my eyes seemed to lock on to his and I could feel this deep depression come over me, and the feeling of being a complete failure filled my body. My hard on got soft in seconds as I sensed what this Dictators humiliation and doubts for his future felt like. My skin was actually chilled at the thoughts that were going through his head at that moment and I could almost see a slight devilish grin on his face as if he knew I was getting these feelings.
Then the picture went back to the announcer and I seemed to be released from the feelings I was having, but I noticed that my tee shirt was drenched with sweat and the sweat stains had reached down into my gym shorts.
Holy shit I thought, that was some frightening scare. It was amassing that the sight of his face on live TV could affect me so much, after all I was patriotic, but why was I feeling such humiliation during his viewing? Why was I feeling anything but jubilation for his capture?
As the broadcast ended, the principle made a brief speech about it and then released us back to our classes.
On the way back, my class commented on how serious my face had become and many of the kids asked why I wasn’t as jubilant as they were. I told them I really wanted to be, but felt sadness for the former Dictator and what would become of him now that he was captured. One kid shouted, “Lighten up coach your not him so be glad!” All that day I was over come with the thought of a man so defeated and alone, and I couldn’t wait to get home and find something to cheer me up.
That night was terrible as my appetite seemed to have vanished and I felt nauseous and uncomfortable, not being able to get the face of Saddam out of my mind. I watched TV for a while, but whenever I saw his face, the memories of how I felt in the auditorium came back and I began to sweat again. I couldn’t manage to think of anything that would change my disposition and even trying to think of something sexual couldn’t get my cock to react. I was sure that if I could muster up some thoughts of hot sex, it would knock me out of this depression.
I was feeling so bad; I decided to showered and get into bed, hoping a good night’s sleep would cure me of my sudden infatuation with Saddam.
All night I was tossing and turning and as the sun rose, instead of waking up with my normal morning wood, I felt damp and my head was throbbing with pain. My head was filled with pictures of people being killed and the color of military green uniforms and the sounds of bombs falling. I grabbed my head to get a grip on it, and then my eyes focused on my room. Gone were the sports awards and posters I had displayed on the walls and in its place were the cold walls of a concrete cube with a toilet in the corner and bars on the windows. I felt my face and it was filled with thick heavy skin and my normally short hair was now thick and bushy. I got up from the small bed I was on and went over to the small mirror, noticing how achy I was and how different my body felt. With shock at first glance at the reflection in the mirror, I saw the face that I had seen just the other day in the assembly, and I began to scream and wail uncontrollably, hoping that I would wake up from this nightmare.
Back in Phoenix, in the bedroom lined with sports awards and memorabilia, the essence of a sick Dictator now inhabited the body of a 26 year old gym teacher. As he stretched in his new young body, he was grinning to find the bonus of his morning wood tenting his sheets and blanket.
He then sat up shouting “I have been saved”, and quickly went to the mirror to gaze upon the body he had captured from his live display on TV that played around the world. Of all the bodies he could have chosen, he chose the body of Mark Gordon, gym teacher from Phoenix, Arizona. As he looked at his new physique and marveled at his now young fit body, he became aware of his new libido and the urges that would now be filling his head. Gone was the guilt and feelings of humiliation and depression. Gone were the doubts of his future and the shame he was feeling. Gone was a life that was defeated and the dynasty that was filled with blood shed.
Now filled with the urge to only release his young load into his boxer briefs, the former Dictator began to rub his rock hard cock and threw his head back as he brought his body to climax. Within moments he filled the pouch of his gray Calvin Klein briefs with a rich bountiful load of creamy white seed, the seed of a young handsome muscular jock. Oh the possibilities he thought as he flexed and made his way to shower.
As he lathered and rubbed every muscle on his body, a shout of victory could be heard in his native Iraq language.
END