Harold dropped and felt the enormity and girth of his new body. He felt like a new man, because he was. Soon his beautiful new girlfriend was at his side.
"So how does it feel to do that many reps?" She took his bulky, sweaty arm in her hands and led him away down towards the beach.
"Incredible! You are a godsend!"
"Oh now, I'm nothing of the sort. You gave up your entire life and that's not a trivial thing."
"I don't deserve you. You're a goddess. Just look at these muscles! I feel like I could take on the world! I feel amazing! I've never felt like this! And I have only you to thank."
Harold had been a sixty five year old on the cusp of retiring from his job in a warehouse, well, edged out by younger competition, even though it was a desk job. The new economy meant he had a lot less than he would have years back. And then he met Priscilla.
She had been interested in his schooling, in his interests, in his old sports days, in his many adventures in the military. Mostly, it was nice just to talk to someone again. His first and only wife had left him in his 30s and he had never remarried. Never had kids. But he had been taken advantage of plenty. He had had bad luck, and been swindled. A menial, ordinary life that had descended into the nightmare of being old and poor.
But Priscilla had told him, upon a first, and unbelievable night of lovemaking that she was a lot...older than she appeared. She had a way of switching the minds of people. She had inhabited several bodies in her lifetime, and she was...well she had stopped counting after 2500 years. The way she did it was a secret for now, but all she wanted was Harold's companionship. His...permanent companionship. Her partner of a thousand years had died falling off a cliff and it was not possible to do a switch if you were dead. She had mourned her lover for decades before finding a new soulmate.
As for the victims, they were always the perfect match. Priscilla researched tirelessly to find a completely immoral man with whom to switch Harold's ailing old frame. The man, whose name was Grant (and now that is my name Harold had to keep telling himself) was a former Wall Street banker turned retiree bodybuilder. His actions, though legal, resulted in the loss of jobs of thousands and the loss of life savings of tens of thousands. This man had no remorse, no guilt, and no right to continue screwing over the innocent.
It didn't take long to convince Harold, though he had had some inevitable ethical concerns and tortured himself about it until Priscilla arranged a meeting between the two. She had made a date with Grant and Harold posed as a man collecting trash. Grant made fun of him in a way that was both disgusting and unnecessary. After Grant made many more remarks about the homeless and how lowly they were, and how the rich deserved everything they got, Priscilla had agreed with him, saying "You have no idea."
She took him to a fancy hotel suite and knocked him out with a special lipstick. It was just like a spy movie. Grant went to sleep and so did Harold and when they woke up they got a massive freak out, with the new 65 year old screaming at the top of his lungs. Priscilla took over while Harold watched mildly as she threatened the hell out of him and told him to go to his new home.
The new Harold was horrified and wound up, well, trying to enjoy his retirement on such a limited budget. I'm Grant now, Harold thought as everyone stared at him, at his beauty. All those eyes on him, all of the time...
He swept his new love into his massive arms and carried her down into the waves, laughing as he played with her, intoxicated by his new godlike body.
It was a whole new life. He just hoped that the endless sex he'd been having would be enough to satiate him. After all, just one slip up and he could wind up in an elderly body again! He flexed for his new girl and she fawned over him, and he marveled for weeks at the new limits he could force this body to go to. He never had to work again and he had the body of a young, muscular buck. What more could he ask for? He thought, watching the many, many eyes of beautiful women lusting after his frame as he ran on one of his daily jogs.
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