Read aloud 2

by BRK   

Barry’s habit of listening to gay erotica on his shift watching monitors as a security guard at a high-tech installation leads him to try the new read-aloud feature on his favorite website.

Barry had a secret that no one else knew. His airpods weren’t exactly for listening to music or mundane, mainstream audiobooks as he wiled away his long, quiet overnight shifts watching the wall of cutting-edge flatscreen security feeds at the Mojotech Solutions restricted-access compound, the source of untold iterations of classified and beyond-classified technology. Like much else around here, his ear-phones served a more clandestine purpose.

He had, it was true, listened to regular audiobooks at first. But Barry liked a challenge, and his current test of his own mettle was to spend his entire eight-hour shift listening to all kinds of explicit, sultry gay erotica without once succumbing to the need to break out his heavy, flat boner and relieve the tension he’d been amassing in his balls throughout the whole, wonderfully excruciating night.

So far, all that built-up lust meant that his eight a.m. end-of-shift, super-intense jerk-offs in the one-seater bathroom off behind the south conference room were more than awesome—some of the best solo orgasms Barry had ever had, in fact. Which meant that Barry was hell bent on continuing his experiment as long as he could get away with it.

As he fiddled with his iPhone one rainy Thursday night, however, periodically glancing up at the monitor to check on his partner making his rounds in the otherwise empty building, he ran into a problem. The new update to his audiobook app was conflicting with the new o/s update that had autoinstalled overnight, causing the app to crash immediately after launching. Barry sighed, frustrated. He was already seriously chubbed in anticipation of his usual night of marathon self-tantalizing aural stimulation, but now he was stuck for dirty listening material.

Unless…

Quickly he pulled up his browser and opened his favorite erotic stories site. Yes! There was the notice of the new read-aloud feature he’d seen a week or so back and made a mental note to check out sometime when he was between smutty audiobooks. This, he thought, was clearly that time. He pulled up the latest story from an author he liked—it was called “Who Guards the Guards?”, he noted with a little smirk—and cued the read-aloud feature before setting the phone aside on his desk and settling back into his chair, his cock already swelling toward full hardness.

A relaxing, professional-sounding voice began speaking, and just the warm timber and reassuring confidence of its tone turned Barry on, resonating deeply inside him as if it were sinking into his very muscles and bones. Barry let out a little sigh. He was fully hard now in his dark uniform pants, his hands clasping lightly onto the arm-rests of his chair as a reminder for them not to wander as he watched his partner, Nicandro, prowled the long laboratory spaces on the seventh floor—it was his turn tonight to make the full rounds, then they’d switch the next night. The guard uniforms were pretty snug, especially in the seat, and Barry enjoyed the crystal-clear HD view of Nicandro’s round, firm ass as he walked away from camera 7J03.

“You love your job,” the voice was saying, seeming to speak from a comfortable and homey spot somewhere near the very center of his mind.

Barry smiled. He really did. He hadn’t expected a second-person-pov, and he was really curious to see how well the action in the story would line up with his own semi-erotic, if somewhat passive, reality.

“You love the way you can be totally aroused at work and it doesn’t matter,” the voice continued calmly. “Other people can’t bone up at work, but you can sit there with a big, stiff, aching erection in your pants from clock-in to clock-out.”

Barry smiled wider. Spot on so far! he thought, though the boost in his pulse and the blush of warmth he was feeling reminded him he needed to pace himself if lasting until clock-out was really going to be an option. If this story got good it might just be more of a challenge than usual. Barry was ready though. Bring it on, he thought, his cock twitching with excitement.

He watched as Nicandro appeared in camera 7J05. The security cams were mounted a close to eyeline in most of these sections, with one a few overhead, birds-eye vantages here and there, so Barry was getting a good, full-on view of his partner. The blue security uniform short wasn’t as snug as his pants, but it was still pretty clear Nicandro had a fit, flat-bellied runner’s physique under there, he moved with a natural grace, almost a saunter. He was good-looking in a Jim Morrison kind of way, too, an ordinary guy with a rock star’s stunning blue eyes, alluring lips, and perfect cheekbones, and Barry sometimes teased him about growing out his hair to look even more like he was ready to take to the stage and make love to a microphone.

“You’re harder than ever now,” the voice said (Tell me something I don’t know! he smirked back at it in his head). “It’s a thrill being totally turned on as you do your job, watching your handsome coworker as he passes from screen to screen, totally oblivious to your lust-filled state.”

Wow, I picked the right story, Barry thought. It really is about guards! He settled a little more into his seat, his eyes on Nicandro as he slowly patrolled the labs.

“You’re so aroused,” the voice was saying, “that your imagination is on overdrive. You’re starting to see what you want to see on those screens, not just what is. And that stokes your arousal even more.”

Barry hummed to himself as he watched Nicandro walk slowly toward the camera, as if he were making a livestream modeling work uniforms. His imagination did indeed feel powerful, as if pumped into heightened potency by his thudding pulse and bone-hard cock, and he let himself see exactly what he’d joked about and pictured many times before: as he watched, Nicandro’s nearly black hair started to gradually unspool out of his head, until, after mere moments had passed, the man had a sexy, leonine mane of wavy, inky black hair falling on the shoulders of his baby blue uniform shirt. Nicandro even shook his head a little, shifting his long hair into position—though that was in his head too, Barry knew, as none of this was actually happening to the real Nicandro patrolling the eerily abandoned facilities six floors above him and on the other side of the complex.

“Your first efforts at imposing your imagination onto the screens only whet your appetite,” the story continued (as accurately as ever, Barry thought). “You’re emboldened to set your desires free, to alter what you see even more.”

Actually it seemed to Barry that he had already started escalating his perception even further. Nicandro’s body had shifted along with his hair, but it was clear from the now body-hugging uniform shirt and still-snug pants that the guy’s already handsome rock-star face and newly acquired rock-star mane topped a body that, even through the clothes, was obviously less Jim Morrison and more Zac Efron or Tiger Shroff. There was a significant bulge pushing on the front of those trousers, too, that definitely hadn’t been there before.

“Your whole being is rippling with the gratification of seeing your fantasies up there on the screen in vivid clarity,” the voice narrated. “You can’t get enough of how strong your imagination feels, ratcheting up your arousal. It feels like it’s having a physical effect on you, making your blood just a bit hotter and your cock just a bit thicker.” Barry couldn’t argue with that—his cock felt like a warm iron pipe against his hip, pressing against the fabric of his own uniform trousers. His inner vision felt so real and so powerful, he could probably make it even bigger just by picturing it lengthening and thickening in his mind. But his attention was almost entirely focused on Nicandro, who was now walking away from camera 7J06 and about to turn a corner and pass through the secure door into the top-secret quantum biotech labs.

“Your ability to picture transformations on the screens before you seems to be getting stronger, freeing your innermost desires,” the voice said, just as Nicandro turned the corner and passed out sight on 7J06. He flicked his gaze to the next screen in sequence—7J21, which looked through the glass wall across the corridor leading to the biotech labs with the secure door set into it. Barry shuddered. Just as the story had said, he’d pushed his fantasy version of Nicandro to a new level. He was still handsome and sculpted with that thick shoulder-length hair, but now those blue-clad shoulders were level with the top of the glass door, and Nicandro himself was inches from having to bend his head under the looming ceiling of the passageway.

“Your body responds with such gratitude at what you’re seeing, you want to give it more,” the voice was saying. “It needs it all to be more than pretend, more than just what you’re seeing. You want it to be real, to know that what you’re watching isn’t just in your mind but is a real video feed showing what truly is.” A cold thrill ran up Barry’s spine. The possibilities of a statement like that! There was no way it could happen, though, even with his fantasies having become so impossibly strong… right? “And then you realize,” the voice continued. “Your imagination is so intense now, so commanding and potent as it reaches out from your fevered mind, filling the room and everything around you, that you could actually find a way to make what you see become what’s real. All you have to do is think of the way.”

Barry watched in fascination as the Nicandro on the screen had to crouch, almost to the point of kneeling, to show the ID hanging from the lanyard around his neck to the reader positioned next to the handle. Fuck, he wanted Nicandro to be really doing that, not just looking like he was in his imagination. He looked around the darkened room, taking in the banks of monitors and beyond-bleeding-edge technology hinted at on every screen. If it was possible anywhere…

“You know what to do,” the voice was saying. “You know how to make your fantasy real. The only question is: will you take the risk?”

An idea formed in Barry’s mind that caused a slow smile to spread across his face.

“You make the choice,” the voice said from its home deep inside his mind. “You see the way and you take it without question.”

The little notch-shaped light on the reader turned green. Nicandro pushed open the glass door and stooped under the door-frame into the ultra-classified quantum biotech labs.

What no one else but he and Nicandro seemed to have discovered was that there was an unnoticed and undocumented side-effect to whatever experiments they were running in that particular sanctum—or perhaps it was the conflation of unknown and conflicting side-effects from multiple experiments. What the two guards had discovered was that there was some kind of powerful, unfelt field in that section that allowed HD-video observation, when combined with a powerful observing imagination, to shift, fold, and remold reality at a quantum level. What that meant for Barry was that when Nicandro straightened up after having to duck deep under the doorway, he was glaring directly into camera 7J21, because Nicandro being a seven-and-a-half-foot, long-haired, aesthetically muscled fitness god wasn’t all in Barry’s mind anymore. A wash of unadulterated joy spread through Barry, and his two footlong cocks strained desperately at his pants—these being the result of Nicandro’s first try at “quantuming” Barry the night before after Barry’s accidental discovery of the effect had unexpectedly vanished Nicandro’s shirt the night before that.

Nicandro raised both of his middle fingers to the camera, and Barry laughed aloud. Then Nicandro’s shirt was gone again, whisked to a quantum never-never between blinks, exposing his smoothly tanned, upgrown, Shroff-worthy chest and uncanny almost-ten-pack. (His ID on its lanyard still in place, now resting incongruously against a slightly hairy sternum.) But Barry wasn’t done. As he watched through the monitors, heart thumping loudly against his chest, a new set of heavy, corded arms folded into being just under his partner’s originals. These Nicandro, after briefly reacting to them with almost comical stoicism, immediately used to raise four middle fingers to the camera.

Barry huffed another laugh. He was just barely holding himself off from climax, though the truth was he was quite enjoying the difficulty of keeping his orgasm at bay even in the face of such perfect stimulation.

The voice, half-forgotten now, was speaking the end of the story. “You’ve given yourself a new outlet for your desires,” it was saying. “Watching is no longer just watching, and the end is only the beginning.”

Nicandro was reaching for the walkie on his belt with one of his hands, still giving him the finger with the other three. Barry took out his airpods and set them aside, picking up his own walkie from the desk just as Nicandro raised it to his face on screen and pressed the button, causing Barry’s to crackle to life—all while Nicandro continued to give him the triple obscene gesture.

“Come on, seriously?” Nicandro’s pleasant, faintly accented voice came through the little speakers. “You’re going to make it so I can’t fit through the doors?” He sounded exasperated, but he was also stealing a curious look down at himself as he spoke, and Barry could tell he was impressed. That wasn’t making the middle fingers go away, though.

“You can fit through,” Barry responded good-naturedly into the walkie. “Keep giving me the fingers and I’ll turn ’em into dicks.”

The three fingers became more emphatic, but then Nicandro frowned as all his middle fingers abruptly doubled, so that he was giving Barry two middle fingers on each hand. Nicandro visibly sighed and dropped his long, sexy arms to his sides, except of course for the one holding the walkie. He seemed to be eyeing Barry through the security camera, though Barry knew that he couldn’t actually see him. “You realize I’ll just get you back tomorrow,” Nicandro said.

Barry smiled. “I dunno, buddy,” he said, watching as Nicandro’s deliciously muscled arms suddenly multiplied into four on each side, front and back as well as above and below. “I think I got a better handle on this power of imagination thing than you do.” His dicks, which were straining against his work pants so hard they felt like they might rip through the heavy fabric, reminded him Nicandro wasn’t entirely clueless in this particular skill. But that only made Barry relish the challenge more.

Nicandro pretended to ignore his sudden explosion of arms. “Come on, make me shorter,” he pleaded.

Barry waited a second before he pressed the button to reply. “Nah,” he answered. “I want to watch you do the rest of your rounds like you’re on patrol in one of those tiny-house things.”

Nicandro glared at him, eyes slightly narrowed, though one of his hands was subtly adjusting the erections pushing against his crotch. “Okay, it’s on,” he said into the walkie, his eyes glinting. “Tomorrow, your ass is mine.” Then he deliberately lowered the walkie without waiting for a response and reholstered it before walking past the camera as if he were totally done, though Barry could see his lips quirking as he passed.

Barry grinned as he set his own walkie back on the table, extremely aroused and happy to be playing this game with his buddy. Just for a parting gift, in recognition of the “ass” comment, he focused on Nicandro’s butt as his extra-tall, extra-armed partner strolled away from camera 7J22 toward the exit door leading out of the lab. A long, tufted lion’s tail folded into being from the base of Nicandro’s spine, emerging through a special little hole in the man’s trousers, its fur dark to match the shoulder-length mane above. Nicandro kept walking as if nothing had changed, though he swished his tail behind him like it had always been meant to be there.

Barry watched him duck out of the lab area and continue on his rounds with a rush of warm, intoxicating pleasure, and he almost—almost—touched his cocks through the fabric of his pants. He settled back in his chair, shivering with anticipation. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow night.

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