Anger management

by Collan

A bullied high school senior turns the tables on his tormentor.

Added May 2022 9,601 views 5.0 stars (3 votes) 5,078 words

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“Give those back!” shouted a whiny, boyish voice. “You can’t do this! It isn’t fair! You have no right!”

The early morning sun felt warm and soothing on my bare torso as I stood by the side of the path near the old wooden picnic tables at the far edge of the park. My right arm was raised in the air, holding a small device and a pair of glasses in my hand, well out of reach of the much smaller boy who had shouted at me. We were both seniors in high school, but he looked years younger than I did, and even though I was already naturally tall, he was so short that I towered over him by almost a foot.

“Give what back, Georgie? These?” I asked nonchalantly with a false expression of concern on my face. I reached up with my left hand to pluck the glasses from my right and examined them briefly with a look of mild pity. “Shame you’re so terribly blind without these. I suppose it would be too cruel to leave you here without them. Here you go,” I said, and with an expert flick of the wrist tossed them far over his head to land in the still-wet grass behind him.

I took a moment to marvel at the dexterity in my left hand as I watched Georgie track the arc of his glasses to see where they landed. His short, pudgy body scuttled across the grass to retrieve them, and he dried them off with the hem of his over-large t-shirt before putting them back on and then turning to glare at me in fury.

“You fucking bastard! You know what I mean! That’s my body! Give it back, or I’ll…”

“Or you’ll what?” I interrupted, with a tone of quiet condescension in my newly low baritone. “What will you do, Georgie?”

“Stop calling me that! I’m Antonio, you little faggot!” The anger on his face looked oddly out of place on his rounded features. The expression just didn’t work on him.

“‘Little faggot?’” I asked him dangerously as I felt a surge of anger rush through me. In the immediacy of the moment, I hadn’t really allowed myself yet to settle into his mind, and the emotion caught me off guard. Damn, but this boy had anger issues, and testosterone to spare to fuel it. It almost overwhelmed me for a moment, but I managed to rein it in.

Still keeping the device out of his reach, I moved towards him with a little bit of a strut and an evil grin playing about my lips. I loved the way this body language felt so natural already. God, I wished I could see myself from the outside right now. I was probably sexy as fuck. Oh well, I had plenty of time for that later. I needed to stay focused on playing out this inevitable little drama and get it over with.

“You might want to calm down a little, Georgie. You’re starting to make a scene. You sound a little crazy there. I’m Antonio and you’re Georgie. I’m the tall, sexy Italian stud and you’re the fat little nerd. Just look at yourself,” I said with a note of disgust. “How could anyone confuse that with this?”

I deliberately teased him and pretended to give him the opening I knew he’d be looking for, lowering my arm and using the hand that held the device to gesture first to him, then to me. Right on cue, he made an attempt to try and grab for the device, but my reflexes were far too fast for him, and I whipped it instantly out of reach again. I knew he could never match me physically, since of course I knew his body’s capabilities, or the lack thereof really, far too well. It was truly a miracle I’d managed to pull this off at all, but the reward was definitely worth all the pain and suffering that had led up to it. I realized I was starting to drift mentally again and brought myself back to the moment.

“Ah, ah, ah!” I said and wagged my finger at him as if scolding a small child. “No grabbing for things that aren’t yours or you’ll have to go in time out!”

He shook his head as if to clear it and pressed his palms to his temples in frustration. “God, this is some kind of nightmare! It has to be!”

The opening was too good to pass up and I took it. “Yes, Georgie, it is a nightmare, and I’m guessing it’s just going to get worse for you.”

“How? How can it get worse?” he almost whimpered, as unbidden and unwanted tears started to fill his eyes. God, I was so glad I had left that uncontrollable urge to cry behind! It was time to take the gloves off, push all his buttons, and make him start to see the agony that I had endured at his hands.

“Because,” I replied, lowering my voice further so there was no chance of accidentally being overheard, “I can see that what is starting to happen to me is starting to happen to you too.”

“But what do you mean? None of this makes any sense!” he cried, sitting back down at the picnic table and burying his face in his arms.

“It will soon. Very soon now,” I said. “You’ll know it all shortly, so it’s time to drop the pretense.”

That caught his attention. He lifted his tear-stained face to look at me, and I almost laughed as he realized his crying had smudged his glasses again, and he had to take them off, clean them, then put them back on again to see me clearly.

“What I mean is this. Thanks to this little device here,” and I brandished it briefly as I continued, “I jumped my consciousness into you, and because we were both touching it when I pushed the button, you’ve retained your own consciousness and are aware of the switch. And let me tell you, setting this up and pulling it off was a total bitch. Letting you torment me every Saturday morning for weeks so that when the time came, you wouldn’t think it was strange that I was sitting here waiting for you. Practicing maneuvering myself so that I could click this little button while we were both touching the device at the same time. With your size, strength, and speed against mine it could have gone wrong at any moment, but it didn’t, thank god.”

He was looking at me incredulously, his mouth hanging open, but no words came out of his mouth.

“I could have just taken you over from a distance,” I went on, “and you would have turned into Georgie with no memory of ever having been Antonio. But I couldn’t have that. You had to know. You have to know! To fully know the suffering I’ve endured for years because of you! And you will!” My temper had risen again, stronger this time, and I was startled by the sudden violent urge I had to lash out and hit. Something, anything, him! This thing in front of me that had made my life a misery for so long!

“But it’s not possible!” he protested.

His statement surprised a bark of laughter out of me and broke through the growing anger. I shook my head in amazement. “How can you say that when you’re sitting there in that pathetic body? Really look at yourself, well, your new self.” I chuckled, but then grew serious. I began to direct him verbally, knowing from his crying moments before that his new emotions were beginning to take hold of him and an urge, a hunger, to obey me, to be dominated by me, his fantasy man, was lurking just under the surface.

“Look at your small, plump hands,” I told him. “Look at your pale, pale skin. Feel the limp, thin hair on your head. Feel the paunch at your belly. Look… Feel… Touch… Touch your bicep and flex it. Not much there to flex, is there? Now how can you say this isn’t possible?” My voice had fallen into an almost mesmeric cadence that I wasn’t aware I was capable of. A vaguely erotic thrill rose in me at the thought of the control I was wielding, as I watched my nemesis examine my former body, following every direction I gave him almost without thought.

When I finished, he hugged his arms to his body tightly and started to tremble as if it were the dead of winter instead of a beautiful late spring day. I suddenly realized what was coming and jumped back in time, noticing in passing how much farther back I had jumped than I had expected to and how easy it had been. He turned towards me and vomited, heaving violently into the grass where I had just been standing. I waited while he emptied the contents of his stomach out onto the ground in front of him.

“What’s happening to me? I feel like I’m losing all control of myself. Why are you doing this?” he asked hoarsely while he continued to cough and spit to clear his mouth as his sickness subsided.

I started walking towards the next table over, and I knew he would follow. It was as much to get away from the puddle of puke in the grass as to give him the opportunity to rinse his mouth out at the nearby water fountain. I wanted him paying attention to me, not the foul taste in his mouth.

I pointed him to the fountain, then continued. “What’s happening to you is that you’re in my body just as I’m in yours. I didn’t expect you to blow chunks like that, but I guess if I had gone from this to that with no warning, I’d be pretty repulsed too. Plus I’m sure the pile of greasy sausages I ate for breakfast didn’t help. I do love the taste, but they always do a number on my stomach. Well, your stomach now. A little welcome gift from me to you.” I snickered, and he glared again as he finished rinsing his mouth out at the fountain.

“You’re also starting to feel my mind, just like I’m starting to feel yours. The emotions are beginning to make themselves known, and the memories will start filtering in after that. As the integration accelerates, you’ll start living on my autopilot essentially. You’ll still be aware of having been Antonio, but your speech patterns, your body language, your emotional reactions, your wants and loves and hates and fears will all be Georgie. You will be Georgie. You are Georgie. That’s what’s happening to you.”

“It’s not fair!” he pouted, plopping himself down at the new table in a Georgie-like huff.

“No it’s not fair, but then, when has fairness ever entered into the equation where you and I were concerned? You never gave fairness a second or even a first thought. You know, you asked me why, but I have a why of my own too. Why me? I never said a thing to you ever. I never approached you ever. I did everything in my power to utterly avoid being seen by you, and yet despite my best efforts our paths would eventually cross. And every time that happened, another layer of pain was added on top of the old ones. A new layer of wounds to become a new layer of scars. Fairness? Ha!”

I felt the anger rising yet again. “My god, I keep feeling your anger bubbling constantly beneath the surface. And just standing here like I’ve been doing is misery! Now I get why you’re always in motion somehow. It’s just this side of impossible for you to remain still.” I started to pace up and down in front of him and felt a little better in doing so. I was moving again, and it felt right.

“Yes, the pacing helps me think now. Amazing! You’ve started to cry the way I used to. I had a bottomless well of sadness that would rise up and engulf me at the slightest provocation, and now the same thing is happening to me with your rage. How do you deal with this uncontrollable rage? How are you not in jail already? How much testosterone is coursing through this body anyway?”

The need to check myself out more closely came over me, and I glanced around quickly to make sure there was no one near. The park was strangely deserted this morning except for a dog walker far off in the distance. Feeling more secure, I stopped my pacing and positioned my legs in an “at ease” stance before reaching down to grab my package, then further under to cup my balls fully. I flexed my fingers a bit and lifted to feel the size and weight of them. The thought that I was groping myself where anyone could see me was beginning to turn me on, and I could feel my hefty penis starting to plump up a bit.

“Damn, you’re hung. I mean I’m hung! I can’t wait to check this bad boy out and see what I can do with it!” I said as I grinned down at myself.

“I hate you so much!” he said with a catch in his throat from choking back another sob. I remembered that feeling well.

“Yes, you do hate me,” I agreed with him, nodding as I moved in closer to him to loom over him as he sat huddled on the picnic bench. “Probably doubly now. You, Antonio, have shown time and again how much you hate me, Georgie. Your hatred is a palpable thing, reaching out from your eyes and your sneer to strike me even before your words or your fists can touch me. You know that hatred well, but now you’re learning the other side of that hate.” I did my best to control my new urges and instincts so I could get this through to him coherently. Even so, I could feel the threat of suppressed violence etching itself into every line of my body.

“Georgie hates Antonio so much,” I said with quiet intensity. “You can feel it, can’t you? Your tears tell me you can. Georgie’s tears, not Antonio’s. Georgie’s years that were endured of verbal and physical abuse at every opportunity. ‘Little faggot.’ A trip in the hall between classes. ‘Out of my way, little faggot!’ A hard shove into the nearest locker or wall. ‘I’m going to kick your ass, little faggot!’ A chase, a race after school that you know you can never win, followed by punches to the face, back, stomach, shoulders, chest. The despair that consumed you knowing there would never be a way to retaliate. You can feel it. I can see that you feel it.”

I stared down at him, knowing that he was trying not to react, but that he was losing the battle. He was hanging his head and hugging himself again, his shoulders hunched and tense. I went in for the kill.

“The exquisite torture of this, though, is that Georgie loves Antonio too. Can you feel that part of it? Can you? Your constant agonizing desire for me scourges your soul. You feel dirty and diseased as you lust for your tormentor, the one who brings you such pain. The love and the hate intertwine like the roots of two trees that have grown up side by side and become inseparable from each other. You look at this body with such longing, wishing you could be it and be with it at the same time despite the hateful creature that inhabits it.”

His expression was beginning to transform into one of lust and longing, and I knew I had him. I tilted my head back sensually, but kept my eyes on him.

“You want to touch this hair,” I murmured softly, turning the phrase into action. “You want to caress this cheek. To run a finger along this jaw from the ear to the chin, then move it up to run it across these sensual lips.” My own finger followed suit. When it reached my lips, I ran it slowly along my lower lip, then wet both lips slowly with my tongue.

“You want to lay a hand on this throat and feel the deep rumble as it rises out of it. You want to touch these shoulders, these arms, these strong, long-fingered hands. You want to breathe in the scent of a man.” I raised the hand that held the device and reached over with the other hand to caress the soft hair that was revealed. I turned my head into the armpit, nuzzled my nose in for a moment, and took a deep whiff of my new self. Before we switched, Antonio had just started his run through the park and hadn’t yet built up much of a sweat, but I could smell his deodorant still, something spicy and masculine.

I could hear his breathing quicken some as I did this. I knew he was responding to my display, and I realized I was starting to as well. I had dreamed about and imagined doing this for so long that the reality of it actually happening was beginning to really hit me where it counted. As I lowered my arm, I glanced down at my body, then quickly back up at him. He seemed to have fallen almost into a trance.

“Look at this chest. You burn to touch it. I know.” I placed my free hand flat on one pec, moved it slowly across to the other, then idly circled the nipple there with my index finger before moving my hand lower. I winced slightly from the sting of the mild abrasion Antonio had suffered from scraping against the old wood during our struggle earlier across the picnic table right before I activated the device, but I kept going. I brushed my hand down my miraculously flat stomach to my navel, placing my palm over it and splaying my fingers across the dusting of hair that led down into the black shorts that Antonio had dressed himself in before leaving his house.

“Antonio knows what’s down here,” I said with a smirk as my hand slowly moved lower. “Antonio knows, but Georgie has only imagined. Georgie has ached to see it, to feel it, to smell it, to touch it, to taste it, to experience it himself.” My fingers worked themselves under my waistband. I became intensely aware of the fact that I was standing out in the open in a public park with my hand down my shorts. A thrill of wild abandon shot through me, and my cock sprang to attention. Despite my earlier self-examination, I was forced to truly realize that I now had a member far larger than I had ever dreamed. I gripped it to reposition it more comfortably and gasped as I felt an erotic sensation far surpassing anything in my prior experience. The tip of my cock had slid out of my foreskin, an entirely new feeling for me. I was uncut! I could feel copious amounts of pre-cum leaking from my slit, dampening my fingers and the surrounding cloth.

Georgie was rubbing himself through his shorts now as he gazed at my display, lost in his desire. I had begun to breathe faster too. The exhibitionistic nature of having my hand in my pants like this was turning me on like nothing I had ever felt before. Someone could come by at any moment and see me blatantly stroking myself, and the thought of it inflamed my own desire. I suddenly realized how close I was to the edge, and with a gasp of surprise I abruptly went over it. Grunting almost animalistically, my balls tightened and shot their load through my steel-hard erection and into my underwear. That was enough to set Georgie off, and I could see him shudder as he came in his pants too with short, high-pitched moans.

I had expected my breathing to slow and my heart to stop pounding, but instead the sensation continued, and a door seemed to burst open in my mind. Without warning, my mind was flooded with Antonio, his whole life laid bare before me. It seemed like the orgasm had been a trigger, breaking down the barriers between my mind and his within my head. Now I truly knew everything. No more secrets could exist. All was known.

“Holy shit!” I whispered mostly to myself, still holding my dripping cock inside my shorts.

“Oh my god!” he exclaimed, then collapsed weeping onto the table.

I quieted my breathing, then took my hand out of my shorts, tugging my penis to scrape off and wipe up as much cum as I could before stepping over to the fountain to rinse it off. Damnation there was a lot of it– far more than my old body could ever produce on a good day. As I cleaned my hand in the cool trickle of water that came out of the fountain, I tried to mentally digest and assimilate as best I could everything that had just been revealed to me about Antonio.

“Well, I have my answer now, and I think you do too. The answer to ‘Why?’” I said as I turned back from the fountain to the table where Georgie was still sobbing.

“I’m a monster!” he choked out between sobs. “I’m evil! How could I not see? Not care? Oh my god! The pain! How do you live with the pain?”

“You asked why I did this. Now you know,” I stated flatly. “And now I know why you did what you did. You’re gay, just like me.” He nodded his head in his arms, gulping for air as he continued to cry. “Every time you saw me, it fed your fear that if you acknowledged your deepest desires you would turn you into me. I was a physical manifestation of your attraction to other boys, your teammates, your best friends. You could beat your feelings down by beating me down too.”

His crying seemed to have spent itself, and he sat limp and exhausted on the bench.

“I can see it, he said. “How did I never realize? It’s so clear to me now that you say it, so obvious.”

The intensity of my emotions seemed to drain away with his words. “You didn’t want to see it. You just wanted to be what was expected of you. You were held captive by the demands of others. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I don’t hate you anymore. I can see us both now, through our own eyes and each other’s, and I understand. I can’t hate you,” I said in wonder. “Up until a few moments ago, all I wanted to do was hurt you, to make you pay. And now it’s like it all burned away. I didn’t think it was possible.”

“I know,” he said sadly. “I feel the same way. I know you now in a way that is usually impossible for two people. Nothing held back, everything in the open.” He sighed.

“Which is how I also know,” he continued, “that this is really my life now. I’m stuck like this. You set the safeguards too well. I can tell from your memories. I’m never going to get my old life back. You’ll never let me,” he said with resignation.

“I’m sorry, I truly am,” I said. “I guess that makes me a dick, knowing all that I know now about you, but I still can’t bring myself to go back to being Georgie. You know you’d do the same.”

“I know,” he said again. “I deserve it though. And you deserve to have far more than what you had. You have it now. You have my life.” He sniffled a little, then gave me a brief, wan smile as he went on. “It’s funny. The hatred is gone, but the sadness isn’t. I’m you for good. I’m Georgie who is nothing. You’re Antonio who is everything. I, Georgie, hurt so badly, so deeply, and yet I, Antonio, caused the hurt, opened the wounds and poured in the salt. I don’t know how I’ll be able to live like this.”

I thought in silence for a moment before replying. “I think we need to put the past behind us. We can’t change what happened, but we can change what will happen. Maybe think of it like this: you’re Georgie, but with Antonio’s drive underneath. There have already been chances that I passed by because I was too afraid to try. You know what I mean.” He nodded.

“I think you’ll have the confidence to go for the opportunities that I would have let slip away. You’ll be a better Georgie than I ever could have been. You have my intellect now too, although,” I said in mild surprise as a particular memory of his surfaced, “I see that won’t be as much of a change for you as I thought it would be…”

“Yeah. I’ve tested out at genius level,” he said, blushing. “I just never let myself do more than the bare minimum, because smart people were pegged as walking targets– nerds, faggots, or both. I was such a stereotype– smart but not wise. God, why am I telling you what you already know?” He actually chuckled at that.

“Well it’s certainly a bonus for me. I was afraid I would have to fight to maintain my intelligence against the instincts of a dumb jock. Now we’re both double geniuses.” Another thought came around again, and now I grinned with elation and began to pace as the urge to move surfaced once more. “And we’re both gay! God, I’m so happy I won’t have to come to terms with being straight I could kiss you!” I said joyfully.

“Would you?” he asked quickly.

“What?” I asked, as I whipped around to face him.

“Would you? Kiss me?” His voice trailed off timidly, and he froze in his seat, waiting to gauge my reaction. I frowned slightly and drew a breath to speak, but he cut me off before I said the first word.

“Wait! Please wait. I need to say this before you answer that,” he said as he saw my confused expression. He drew a deep breath of his own and let it out again before going on. “I know I don’t deserve anything from you after what I did. You’re Antonio now. I may end up being a better Georgie, but with the strength you’re going to have in mind and in body, melded with Georgie’s compassion and depth of feeling, the Antonio you’ll be will blow me and everyone else out of the water. I can just tell somehow.”

He locked eyes with me, and I felt a lump of emotion rise at the back of my throat that I was afraid to name. I couldn’t turn away from him.

“You’re about to walk away and go live my life far better than I was living it,” he said. “You know what I’m saying is true, and you know why I’m asking this. You said it yourself. Georgie hated and loved Antonio. Well, the hatred has burned away. What else is there left for me to feel for you? For us?”

I couldn’t speak.

“All I want to take with me before you go is the memory of a fantasy fulfilled. The old Georgie wanted it so badly. God knows the new Georgie wants it too. Can you give me that much? Your arms around me? Your lips on mine? Please?”

My heart broke, for me and for him. I threw my caution into the breeze that chose to arise at that moment. I tossed the device behind me into the grass as I closed the remaining distance between us. He stood back from the table as I did so and moved his arms up to embrace me as mine reached down to surround him. My mouth lowered to his and his raised to mine. Antonio gave Georgie what he had been longing for.

We broke the kiss by unspoken mutual consent. My head and my heart were reeling from the emotional roller coaster I had been riding since I clicked the button on the device less than an hour ago and took Antonio’s life for my own. I closed my eyes for a moment as I held Georgie in my arms, then opened them as I stepped back out of our embrace.

“Antonio?” Georgie asked me, uncertain as to what to do next.

A slight smile flickered across my lips. “Goodbye, Georgie,” I said and turned to scoop up the device from where it had fallen. I marveled again at how small it felt to me in my new larger hand.

The breeze picked up some more, tossing the branches of the trees around us and caressing my bare skin. The urge to move was rising again, and now I could give in to it completely. I, Antonio, moved back onto the path, picking up speed, faster and faster, my adrenaline flowing, my arms pumping, my legs propelling me forward, as I continued with my Saturday morning run.

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