HunkTech heist

by YellowJester   

A savvy, ragtag group plans a heist of HunkTech’s extremely secure facility. What they are after isn’t money. 

“It can’t be done.”

“Oh, come on.”

“It can’t be done,” Lyle repeated as the pair made their way through the crowded market. Hastily constructed booths and stalls lined either side of the street streets, ready to be disassembled at the slightest sign of the authorities.

In this dusty sea of a city, the two men were noticeably out of place in their nice finely pressed suits and squeaky-clean loafers. They made their way through the maze of a bazaar, talking softly enough to not be heard but not so quiet that they would draw attention. Lyle munched on a giant pickle he had bought from a greasy woman in a truck, the phallic imagery lost on no one.

“It can be done, and we are going to do it,” the second man said to Lyle slowing his pace.

Lyle took the bait. “You’re insane, George. You would need 50 guys and a few million dollars.”

“Five guys, 20,000 dollars.”

Despite his better judgment, Lyle’s interest was piqued. “You have thought about this a lot then?”

“Not a ton else to do in there,” George answered pulling Lyle to the side and pointing to a vendor. While most of the sellers on the block were offering knock-off designer bags or cheap toys, this man had what looked to be a makeshift chemist set hooked up to an old fruit stand wagon. Amicably he chatted with a young kid whose face was pock-marked by acne. While the talked the vender idly swirled a green and pink liquid in a test tube. The kid said something with made the vendor smile and nod. He pulled a lever on his cart that caused the chemistry contraction to activate. Steam rose and sparks flew as chemicals were mixed and concentrated into a single drop of liquid which rose through the windy system of tubes before being caught by the vendor in the liquid he had been swirling. The liquid smoked and turned a deep red color, the vendor poured the concoction into a plastic cup. The vendor handed it to the kids and took a $50 bill in exchange.

“A snake oil salesman?” Lyle asked incredulously.

“Just wait,” George said pointing back to the kid. The kid downed the contents and winced at the taste. Lyle watched as the acne on his face lost its color and then flaked off creating a snowstorm of imperfect skin to drift down to the dirt street, leaving the kid with skin as smooth as a baby’s. Lyle turned to make some sort of comment to George then started as he saw his companion was gone, already half the way to the rickety cart.

“Zane! Good to see you, man,” he said locking hands with the vendor and bringing him into a quick hug.

“It’s always a pleasure, mate,” the vendor, Zane, responded. He saw Lyle walking over and connected the two suited men. “Brought a friend have you?” He examined Lyle with a critical eye. Lyle was attractive enough, lean build, a handsome face, and sandy blond hair he kept cut short. He was striking if not unforgettable.

“Let me guess, you want some height. Or some meat on the bones. Or junk in the trunk. I can do it but it’s gonna cost you mate.”

George raised a hand to stop Zane. “We are here about a job. A big one.”

“You gonna have to get a bloody bit more specific man,” Zane replied, now with a cautious air studying George. Lyle studied this Zane in turn.

Zane was tall and skinny as a stick, although come to think of it he probably weighed more than George now. His hair was wild, sticking out in a mushroom cloud about his head, Lyle even thought he saw several pieces of science equipment tucked inside. With dark skin and a down-under accent, Lyle guessed he was Aboriginal Australian.

“You ever sample your own merchandise?” Lyle asked probingly.

“Crikey, never mate.” That was good. It was well known that a chemist in their business who got high on his own supply was less than worthless.

“How would you like it if you could, the full treatment? Paid for entirely by Wayne Westin,” George asked casually.

Zane just barked a laugh. “And pigs will fly and shit gold I suppose?”

“Not yet although neither are out of the question.”

“Last I heard you and Wayne weren’t exactly on the best terms. You two make up or something?”

“Not exactly. That’s where the job comes in. Let’s go somewhere else and talk. Just hear me out, I think you will like what I have to say.”

“I don’t know mate,” he said hesitantly tapping his foot nervously.

“Hey! You got a license for that” A police officer entering the ally yelled at Zane.

“On second thought I’m in mate. Let’s go,” Zane said hurriedly pushing his ramshackle cart away. In the process, a few different vials fell to the ground smashing and spilling their multicolored contents onto the ground. Lyle and George followed Zane. Behind them, they heard the police officer scream as a rat running over the spilled chemicals grew to ten times its normal size and developed a temper and taste for human flesh.

“What about Micky?” George asked Lyle.

“Got busted a few months ago.” The two were seated at an outdoor cafe; Lyle had just finished off a particular messy pastry and spoke in between licking each of his fingers clean.

“Smokey?”

“Deep in Wayne’s pocket, and probably his dick too”

“We need grease,” George said somewhat exasperated.

“There is always Soother.”

“What the old man? He’s in his 60s. I hardly think he’s going to want to squeeze through air ducts,” George said doubtfully.

George leaned back in contemplation before turning to the construction site across from the cafe. Men in fluorescent orange vests moved busily, the extreme physical demands of their jobs manifesting in powerful shoulders and strong legs. Lyle wondered if George felt any envy towards those men after what happened.

“There,” George said pointing at a particular member of the construction crew. He was of average height with a messy mop of sweaty brown hair, a decently muscular build, and a bit of a beer gut. His face was unshaven and Lyle could distantly make out what had to be a mustard stain on his garish orange vest. “He’s perfect,” George said proudly. Lyle just raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not sure he’d fit in many air ducts.”

“No, not a grease. He’s our man on the inside. Trust me, that’s exactly his type.”

“I suppose you would know,” Lyle said. “Can he be trusted? We both know how it can be in there.” The rest didn’t need to be said. George had explained his hair-brained scheme to Lyle at least a hundred times and each time this part had seemed the most insane.

George didn’t answer, instead, he drained the last of his coffee and tossed the paper cup into the waste can before standing and buttoning his suit coat. “More than a bunch of crooks I would wager.”

With that, he made his way across the street before ducking under a line of yellow caution tape and calling out to the man. Lyle just stayed seated. Lyle had some charm of his own but no one could convince him like George, even without the body he once had.

Sure enough 20 minutes later the man George had pointed out, he had introduced himself as Jack, was seated at their table looking just as surprised as Lyle. He warmed his hands with a mug of black and listened as George quietly laid out some of the details.

“You ever heard of Wayne Westin?” George asked leaning back casually his suit now unbuttoned.

“The guy on TV. Yeah, I heard of him,” Jack answered with a thick Boston accent.

“And what do you think of him?” George asked probingly. It was frustrating when he got like this. He was like the schoolteacher asking questions they already knew the answers to.

“I mean the guys a F—” Jack caught himself before he offended these strangers. “The guy’s flamboyant. I always thought he was a scam. Not that what I think matters,” he admitted. “He only works on the mega-rich right?” Jack smelled of dirt and leather and not a small bit of sweat. He was a far rougher folk than Lyle was used to working with, despite the illegal nature of his work. George didn’t seem to be put off by the change in company, however.

“You correct on all counts Jack. Wayne Westin is gay and only works with the mega-wealthy and powerful. You see we want to change that, we want you to be an ambassador of sorts. A representative of the working class in the ranks of Wayne’s clients.” Lyle couldn’t help but smile, an expression he hid by turning away slightly and covering his face with a hand. Putting a moral spin on a heist was new, but judging by the look on Jacks’s face it seemed to be appealing to him. Lyle supposed everything George said was technically true although of course there were other motives at play.

The TV ads Jack had been referring to were infamous at this point. They featured Wayne Westin in all his glory, a sharp handsome face, shirtless muscular torso, and a prominent manhood covered only barely by a speedo with the logo of his company, HunkTech. The ad was more of an infomercial, a lost art in the 21st century, showing how for a small sum (enough to buy a Scottish castle) HunkTech could turn you from Joe Blow into a walking wet dream. Some of these ads only showed pictures but the ones that truly stuck in the brain had live demonstrations of HunkTechs efficiently.

Most still thought HunkTech was an elaborate scam. The customers were few and mostly obscure billionaires known only by money-worshiping sycophants. There were whispers online about how these frail titans of industry suddenly looked 30 years younger and 30 times sexier. These rumors had yet to reach the mainstream however it seems.

“And yes,” George said darkly. “Wayne is the real deal” a fact George knew all too well.

“If you say so, man. I don’t know anything about being an ambassador though. You sure you got the right guy?”

“We’re sure,” George said sliding the man his business card and a hundred-dollar bill to Jack. “For your troubles.” George stood to leave. “Think about it then give us a call. I think you will find you have a lot to gain.”

Three days later George and Lyle stood in a converted wear-house with Jack, Zane, and a short, brown-skinned man who couldn’t be older than 19. He was the crew’s new grease, Kabir, recruited after both Lyle and George had found their wallets missing at a train station. The two had had to chase the kid halfway across town and through some active sewer pipes. They had only traced the kid down because they promised him all the money they had on hand and a job.

The wear house stood just three miles from HunkTechs facility be it in a less nice part of town. A large monitor showed the plans of the building which all five men were studying intently.

“HunkTech is the most secure compound in the world. More than the Pentagon, any prison, or any bank. The building itself is 100 stories tall with 24-hour surveillance, the most advanced laser detection system and constantly changing codes.

“Oy mate so we are walking into the dingos nest with our pants down,” Zane interjected.

George ignored the comment and continued. “It’s not what’s inside the building we are after, it’s what’s underneath. 400 feet of hard-packed earth with only one entrance accessible with a DNA sample of Wayne Westin. A very specific DNA sample mind you. And we are going to get it.”

The crew was silent for a moment, either thinking about the task at hand or thinking about how to back out of this suicide mission. George let them sit on it before laying out his plan, at least most of it.

Lyle watched George work, telling each member about their specific role. In three days the crew would either be set for life or in jail for life. He trusted George and yet this job had him on edge. Once George had finished and the crew had been sent off to do their various tasks Lyle asked his friend for a word.

“Left out a few key details there didn’t you George.”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them?” his friend responded.

“And me, are you telling me everything? I know you and Wayne have a history, I just—I don’t want your vendetta with him getting us all busted.”

George was silent for a moment, then his hands balled into white-knuckled fists and his voice lost its easygoing tone “He took everything from me. Everything! And then he locked me up to rot. I intend to be there when he falls,” he said coldly. Lyle knew the anger wasn’t directed at him but still felt a chill. He hadn’t been there when everything had gone down with George and Westin but he had been able to piece together some things.

George had been a partner of Westins, a co-founder of HunkTech. Together they had developed the amazing flesh-altering technology that HunkTech used to transform. Wayne had been the visionary and George was the template. Before Wayne Westin, George had been one of the most attractive men on earth. Tall dark and handsome to a fault, George drew every eye in the room with his charm. George and Lyle had used that to their advantage in quite a few jobs. Then he met Wayne Westin, a nerdy little sleaze with words that wormed their way into George’s head. George had broken ties with Lyle and told him he was going clear, going legit. Together they built HunkTech, George had wanted to make the company’s services widely available to the public, lowering costs and expanding the business. Wayne, it seems had disagreed, seeing the most money in the business by keeping prices high and only serving the wealthy.

Lyle wasn’t sure exactly what had happened. All he knew was George got booted from the company somehow, losing all his shares before being arrested on trumped-up charges. In his mugshot, Lyle had hardly recognized George. 90 pounds soaking wet with boils on his face and a broken nose. Wayne had used their technology against his former partner and lover. In prison, George had been able to go from malnourished back to average, get rid of the horrifying lumps on his face, and his nose had healed somewhat crooked giving him a rugged look, still, he was a shadow of his former glory. The worst part. Wayne Westin, the dorky no-one was now an Adonis made flesh, showing off his body and face on every TV.

Lyle knew that must gaul George to the core, he had no delusions that it wasn’t a motivation for the heist. Still, when they had worked together before it had never been personal like this, they had been in it for the money or the power but never for revenge. Lyle hoped the anger would motivate George rather than get them all killed.

George seemed to read his friend’s thoughts as his face softened and his voice lowered. “Nothing is going to go wrong, Ly. Come on, I want to be there to make sure Jack gets in place.”

Lyle didn’t respond, instead, he opened a bag of chips from his desk and followed his friend to the waiting car, a cold feeling in his gut.

Twenty minutes later George and Lyle stood in an alley between a vape shop and a sports bar watching from a safe distance as Jack bent down to tie his work boots. Jack had been drilled by George extensively on exactly how to behave, although it was clear immediately that acting was not his strong suit. Confusion and helplessness looked more annoyance and contempt on the gruff man’s face. Even so, George seemed to have no doubt that his plan would work.

Sure enough, it took only minutes of Jack loitering for a black limo to pull up. Lyle was too far away to hear exactly what was said but words were exchanged and then Jack entered the vehicle.

“Was that him?” Lyle asked.

“Oh, that’s him, all right.”

“But how did you know that would work?”

“I know Westin better than I know my own mother. He’s predictable in his… appetites. Even before he turned traitor, he always had a type and a specific hunting ground he frequented. Jack matched it perfectly. Unrefined, dirty, heterosexual but with some meat on his bones and a pretty face. It’s Westin’s kryptonite.”

“How do you know Jack is straight?” Lyle asked.

“Oh I don’t but he has the appearance at the very least. Westin doesn’t actually care he just likes the notion. He will do the same either way to his prayer.

Lyle shoved a handful of chips in his mouth “Jack will be safe right? Westin isn’t doing anything to him is he?”

“Oh, I imagine Westin will do a lot to him. He should be safe though, at least for a few days. Wayne Westin likes the thrill of the hunt more than the kill itself.”

Inside the car, Jack very much did feel like a man being hunted. It was a feeling he wasn’t used to. This Westin guy creeped him the hell out.

Jack was used to being around other dudes. Growing up he played sports, football, and baseball, and had no issue hanging with and changing in front of the guys. Sure they had messed around a bit, jerking each other off a few times and comparing dick sizes but his bros had never looked at him like this man was now. Hungry. Come to think of it it wasn’t much different from the way George had looked at him, sizing you up and deciding how best to use you. These rich people were fucking freaks he decided.

When a charismatic stranger approached him at work spewing promises about the job of a lifetime he had accepted. It wasn’t the altruism bullshit, Jack could see through that. He may not be college-educated but he wasn’t stupid. He, like the other members of the crew, was in it for selfish reasons. The money was one, construction was grueling work, with poor pay and little free time. With the money he was promised Jack could live in comfort for the rest of his life without lifting a finger. Yet it was the other boon that Jack craved. The opportunity to reshape his body was what really excited Jack. It wasn’t for the same vain reasons that the rest of the crew craved. He had never much cared for his appearance. His bulky build and crude yet masculine face were never an issue when it came to women. It wasn’t until the bedroom that his glaring flaw became evident. His dick. Jack had once been blessed with quite the package, a manhood fitting his appearance. That was until a freak ski accent led him crotch-first into a pine tree. Three weeks in intensive care had saved his life but not his dick. He wanted it back.

He had followed George’s instructions—”Wear tight revealing clothing”—to the letter. His grass-stained white beater and some shorts a few inches shorter than he would ever otherwise. Stand there looking helpless.” Well maybe more angry than helpless, but he was a grown man what could they expect? It had worked though. After 10 minutes of standing around a black SUV had pulled up all spy style. The driver in a suit and sunglasses had gotten out and opened the door to the passenger’s side, revealing Wayne Westin himself.

“Want a ride?” Wayne said in his best approximation of a seductive drawl, Jack thought he sounded more like a cartoon villain. In-person, Wayne Westin was even more outrageously attractive. His face mapped perfectly onto the golden ration in a way more mathematical than sexual, and his bronzed sculpted muscles lacked any of the real strength, just balloons of flesh marked by 3D printed veins.

Jack got in, deliberately twisting the buckle of his belt as instructed.

“Tell me, Jack,” Westin said once the two had settled and had swapped introductions “What is it you want?”

Jack thought for a minute. Then decided to play coy. “Nothing more than a roof over my head, and food on the table Mr. Westin.”

“Yes yes, very humble. Care to dream bigger though? What if you could have more, the perfect body the perfect life? All this” At that Westin gestured, Jack couldn’t tell if it was to his body or the lavish interior of the car, probably both.

“Well, that sounds great sir. But I don’t get the money for all that.”

Wayne scoffed. “Don’t you worry about money? I like to think of it as charity work. Driver let’s stop by my office,” he said as if the car had not been heading there the whole time. “I want to show you something.”

Twenty minutes later Jack followed Wayne and a team of security into a lavish building in the middle of the city. Blown glass hung from the ceiling in a darling display throwing beads of red orange and yellow light in every direction. The crowds of passing executives all nodded to Wayne or stopped to give him a greeting.

“Lift up to your office, sir?” a clerk asked from the front desk.

“I’m going down actually” The security guard glanced at Jack then nodded with a knowing smile. “Right this way.”

He led them past a bank of elevators to a more sleek-looking one at the end of the hall. The guard swiped a key which opened up the doors to the elevator. Inside were a thumbprint and renal scanner both of which the guard used to enable the descent to the lowest level. Jack made sure his belt buckle had a clear view of the whole scene, his heart started to beat faster. Suddenly he felt very alone. Jack was a big guy but compared to Westin and the team of security, all of which were easily seven feet tall and built like brick walls, Jack felt like a plaything. The elevator doors slid open and the group filed in, the security guards forming up around Jack, preventing any escape should he back down.

The elevator descended fast, there were no buttons; evidently, it led to only one place. “I own this whole building,” Wayne said casually as they stood there. Jack, Wayne, and six security guards. “Turns out I didn’t own the earth underneath though, belongs to the government. A few well-placed HunkTech appointments with some key city officials were able to fix that. You see there are people who want what I have Jack, people who want what I’m about to give to you. I’m not too keen on giving it to them. And they are not too keen on asking nicely”

Ding!

The elevator doors opened. Gone was the opulent luxury of the building above, the tunnel before them was military sleek devoid of all but what had function. Steel walls lined with electrical cables and one door at the end of the hall. It looked like a safe vault with titanium ribbing every inch and magnetic locks securing both sides. Wayne walked up to it, polished shoes clicking on the floor. There was no keypad only a hole beside the door about the size of a beer bottle. Jack watched in astonishment as Westin unzipped his pants in front of his security guards and took out his dick. It truly was massive, even soft it was a python, thick as Westin’s palm and as long as half the length of his thigh. Jack was simultaneously disgusted and intensely envious.

Wayne placed his dick into the hole in the wall and threw his head back. With a start, Jack realized the hole was jerking him off. It only took a few seconds, but Jack couldn’t help but feel awkward as he and the guards watched Wayne be pleasured. Then with a moan Wayne’s balls began to pump and the door creaked open.

Inside there was yet again an alien world. Through the walls were still bunker-like in their bareness beyond the door was a cavernous room filled with futuristic-looking machines. Jack could see a few men and women in white coats scurrying around carrying clipboards or escorting naked people, some of whom were skinny and scared others muscular with chest held up proudly.

“This my dear boy, is where wishes come true.” Wayne had adopted a sort of Wonka-like air as he watched Jack look around in wonder. “I like to think of it as my Santa’s workshop. What you see here is the research branch of our operations. Will be wanting to my personal transformation deck. So do stick close. Wouldn’t want a handsome man like you walking around alone down here. No telling what these scientists might do.”

Jack tried to ignore the veiled threat. “Do all these people access this place the same way?” Jack asked hesitantly as they walked past a bank of computers displaying various parts of the male anatomy.

“Oh heavens no. Only I have access, everyone else lives down here full-time for… security reasons. No one comes in or out without my express permission. You weren’t thinking of running were you, Jack?”

“Haha, of course not,” Jack said with a forced laugh.

“Very good.” They kept walking. To his right Jack saw a stack of caged hairless rats. A tall woman in a lab coat plunged a syringe full of purple liquid into one of the rats causing it to squirm. Then with a squeal, Jack watched as hair grew all over the rat’s body, spiky and coarse. The woman in the lab coat reached out the touch it only to draw her hand away quickly and give a short yell in pain, blood dripping from where her fingers had touched the rat’s now spiky exterior.

“Pay them no mind, experimentation can be a dangerous thing. Yet we have already perfected so much here. Ahh, we have arrived.” They had arrived at the back end of the bunker, the part that seemed the cleanest and most technologically advanced. A series of pods stationed in a semicircle lay in front of a control pad. “This is the transformation bay, the one I use for personal use that is.”

Jack felt himself shoved roughly forward by the security guards. “Strip” Jack slowly began to remove his shoes, he sped up at another shove from the security guard. His shirt came off revealing a meaty chest and a slight gut with the outline of abs, both covered by a medium layer of light brown hair. Pants came off next, Jack tried to position his belt so that it faced Westin, but the garment was snatched up by one of the security guards. His legs were decently toned and covered in a layer of hair. That left him in just his underwear.

“Those too, dear boy, no need to be shy,” Westin purred.

Jack hesitated then with a deep breath pulled them down so they hung around his ankles. There was silence then Wayne Westin barked a laugh.

“A Ken doll,” he said, examining the nothingness that was his groin, smooth skin with the slightest of holes to pee out of. No balls, no shaft just synthetic skin that couldn’t even grow hair. “Now this will be fun. Get him in the tube.”

Jack’s naked body was hoisted by two security guards into one of the waiting tubes. He didn’t fight it. The whole process felt dehumanizing. Only the plan George had explained and the little vial of amber liquid Zane had made him swallow before gave him strength. All he had to do was play his part.

The glass walls of the tube slammed up around him, muffling the sound from the outside but not completely cutting it off completely. “Dr. Gwendavier is all ready?” Wayne asked the small hints of warmth in his voice completely gone.

“We are. Scanning him now,” a shriveled man in a lab coat answered, presumably Dr. Gwendavier said. Jack noticed with some trepidation that one of the doctor’s eyes had been replaced by a bionic one with techno-bionic flesh covering that side of his face. These people weren’t just crazy, they were psycho.

“Will do the full treatment, you know how I like it Dr. Gwendavier.”

“Of course, Mr. Westin. Preparing the subject for transformation.” The doctor typed something out on the control panel and a pink mist began to fill the chamber. Jack held his breath but the mist wasn’t intended to be swallowed. Instead, Jack watched as every hair below his neck turned gray and then fell off his body like flaking ash. Jack felt the chill in the air, he hadn’t had a bare chest since he was fifteen.

Next, a series of tubes emerged each attaching deep into a different part of his body. Jack looked to see what these freaks were injecting into him but instead saw quite the opposite. The tubes were extracting every pocked of fat from his body, pumping the yellow slimy tissue into tubes leading out of the pod.

Skinny and hairless Jack stood naked in the tube, completely at Waynes Westin’s mercy. Wayne seemed very much to enjoy that fact, he had again unzipped his pants and removed his impossible dick, stroking it reverently as he watched the process.

“Yes yes, keep going, Dr. Gwendavier.”

More typing from the one-eyed doctor and needles emerged this time, each stabbing deeply into the now lean parts of his body. This time he expanded rather than deflating, each muscle growing exponentially larger. His workman’s body became that of a bodybuilder, one meant to be peacocked rather than used. It felt wrong to Jack like he hadn’t earned this body. It would all be worth it, to get back what he had lost.

Wayne began to stroke faster obviously enjoying the sight of Jack’s growing pecs and arms, and the way his thighs now formed a meaty wall of brawn.

“This case is rather anomalous,” Dr. Gwendavier said eyeing Jack’s diskless groin. “His condition allows for modifications that might otherwise not be possible.”

“How fortuitous,” Wayne said excitedly. “Let’s push the bounds then shall we, for the science of course.” He turned to address Jack for the first time since the transformation had started. “I’m sorry Jack. I do imagine you were hoping for your dick back, but see I rather like being the biggest in the relationship. So how about I give you something else instead.”

Jack saw in the pod next to his a 3D printer hummed to life. Flesh started to mold itself into some new organ. Only that wasn’t a dick, no it almost looked like a butt. Two cheeks, a crack, a hole. That was an ass, a huge one. Jack started to pound on the glass with all his new strength. It might as well have been concrete. He watched with dread as the butt finished being constructed and started to make its way into his tube. Metal arms held him still as Jack felt a burn and the butt attached itself to his groin. A new sensation rushed through his body as he felt the weight of it. Wayne Westin began to laugh at the two-assed pet he had just made.

Jack began to cry.

Wayne rolled his eyes. “Oh god, that is rather annoying. Will you fix that Dr. Gwendavier?”

Soon a helmet dropped down over Jack’s head and started to play a series of images. Five minutes later Jack wasn’t crying anymore, he was smiling wide telling Wayne how much he loved having two holes with which to please his master. He grabbed the billionaire’s arm as the two made their way out of the vault and to Mr. Westin’s private rooms above.

“Any update?” Lyle asked for the hundredth time that hour as he resumed his pacing.

“Exact same answer as the last time,” George said, annoyed. The camera installed on Jack’s belt buckle had been Lyle’s idea and it had worked for the most part. The crew had watched as Jack got into Wayne’s car and was driven to HunkTech’s building. Once Jack got on the elevator the signal was weaker. Still, they had seen Wayne open the door to the bunker, seen some of the research going on inside, and even up to when the security team had asked Jack to strip. After that, the camera had gone dark, either destroyed or placed somewhere with no signal.

“We have done everything we can for Jack, it’s up to him now,” George said calmly.

“And the rest of the preparations?”

“Kabir is getting in place now,” George said.

“I’m ready too,” Zane called from under the gas mask he wore, standing over a vat of chemicals he called his caldron. “Essentials are all mixed, and made some extra nastiness just in case.”

“And you, George, are you ready?” Lyle asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” George had still not filled Lyle in on what exactly they would be doing while the rest of the crew was engaged.

“I’m worried.”

“Don’t be.”

“Easy to say.”

“Easier to do.”

“Don’t flirt with me, George.”

“Don’t act so cute.”

“Can you two bugger off?” Zane said annoyed. “We got a job to do.”

Being small wasn’t so bad. Sure someone like Wayne Westin might beat him in Basketball but he would love to see the brute squeeze through an elevator shaft.

Woosh

Kabir flattened himself against the wall as an elevator shot by like a speeding bullet. The wind of its passing threatened to dislodge his tenuous grip from the shaft but he held steady. Only a few more stories to go.

HunkTech had cameras stationed in every hallway, and laser detection on every door. What they didn’t have was security in the elevator shaft, however. He ripped the claws from his left hand out of the concrete wall of the shaft and sunk them back into above, hoisting himself upwards.

It had been easy enough to sneak into the lobby, from there all he had to do was crawl into an air duct that led to the elevator shaft. Now just a quick hundred-story climb and he would reach Wayne Westin’s penthouse.

Kabir had to admit despite his skill he couldn’t have done this on his own. Zane the mad chemist had handed him a bottle of green liquid that looked and tasted like radioactive sewage. Short fingernails began to elongate and sharpen until they became sharp strong claws he could use to scurry up the elevator shaft.

Still, it was far from easygoing. The elevators were fast and ran frequently. There was only the smallest of auditory warnings before the elevators would come screeching in, forcing Kabir to flatten or be flattened. Still growing up dodging metro cars police officer Kabir had the reflexes and daring to attempt it.

There. If he counted correctly, no guarantee, he should be on the 87th floor, Wayne Westin’s private residence. With a sharpened fingernail, he slashed at the vent covering, dislodging the nail and causing the grate to fall. The metal covering spun until it disappeared into the darkness and still no sound, a long way down.

Then—crash!

He threw himself into the tight confines of the vent and the army crawled his way forwards. He and George had studied the blueprints of the building extensively. Two left turns then a right then went straight until he reached Westin’s bedroom. Thought the cracks in the vent Kabir could just make it out. A gaudy thing, cream and brown print wallpaper, a rich purple carpet, heart-shaped bed. And on the bed, that was Wayne Westin for sure in all his naked glory. He lay sleeping on another figure, oversized muscles, hairless body, he lay face down ass exposed. Only no Kabir could see his face, was that Jack? Dear god, what had Wayne done to him?

With one claw Kabir carefully unscrewed the nails securing the vent, then fished around in the pouch on his belt for the vials Zane had given him. Wincing once again he downed the concoction. No claws this time, instead he felt a strange sensation on his rear as a nub poked out then became a full tail, complete with a barbed end. Neat. He looked at the other potion Zane had given him. This was the part of the plan he liked least. Still, the lanky alchemist had sworn it would work. He downed the potion. Kabir latched his tail around a pipe and lowered himself out the vent. Flexing the new muscles in his tail felt simultaneously foreign and completely familiar.

Kabir slowly inched his way down getting closer and closer to Jack and the sleeping Wayne Westin. Jack made no sign that he saw Kabir and just stared at Wayne with a look that could be love or hate.

Poor Jack, the construction worker had been turned into Westin’s sex pet. That body wasn’t good for anything but pleasing the CEO’s perverted sexual fantasies, just as George had predicted. If everything went according to plan Jack would have obtained a sample of Wayne’s sperm that the team could use to open to the door. All he had to do was get it and then deliver it to the rest of the waiting team. He lowered himself down a little further until he was right above the two men.

A hand shot out.

Kabir’s eyes went wide as he looked at the oversized hand clapped around his neck. With a twisted look on his face, Jack squeezed Kabir’s neck and used his new strength to slam his former teammate to the bed, dislodging the hold of his tail. Kabir found himself unable to breathe, he clawed weakly at Jack’s hand.

Wayne Westin sat up. Not sleeping. “Very good, my pet. I knew I heard a rat crawling around my building.” From his pocket, he took a syringe of purple liquid and shoved it into Kabir’s arm. The world went black.

Lyle stripped off his shirt. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw George give his tanned lean frame and treasure trail of dirty blond hair a once over. On went the blue HunkTech security uniform. Zane did the same. George still wore his customary black suit, he looked nice in it now but not nearly as good as he once had. A shame that.

“See you on the other side.”

“Not if I see you first!”

With that they left the ally in which they had dumped their clothing and split up, Zane and Lyle heading towards the HunkTech building and George heading god knows where. Lyle entered the lobby confidently, giving nods to the various office workers and security guards. They approached the bank of elevators and Lyle bent down to pretend to tie his shoes. Kabir should be waiting for them with the sperm sample he got from Jack, yet Lyle couldn’t see the small Indian man anywhere.

“Old dogger was supposed to be here,” Zane said, nervously as he looked around. The security guard at the front desk glanced their way.

More time passed, and the security guard looked at them again. Lyle started to tie his other shoe.

Another few seconds. They didn’t have time. “We go on without him.”

“What about the bloody plan? Without the sample from Kabir, how are we going to”

“Excuse me,” Lyle called out to the security guard who was full-on staring at them. Lyle took a deep breath. Time for the charm offensive. “Did it hurt?”

The guard looked at him quizzically. No one else in the lobby seemed to be paying the conversation much attention.

“The augmentation, I mean. Did it hurt when they did it on you?” With nice green eyes, a dimpled chin, and a decent build the man was handsome enough but clearly not HunkTech augmented. Even so, the guard seemed to fall for the bait.”

“I… I’m not augmented.”

“You are kidding. So you’re just naturally that sexy?” As he spoke Lyle stepped forward and popped open the lid to a canister on his belt with his thumb causing a pale yellow mist to rise up. Zane recognized his handiwork and held his breath. The guard on the other hand was less aware and so got a lung full. His body language quickly shifted from caution to very much intrigued.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Thirty seconds later the two were passionately making out against a wall in a private office. While his tongue ravaged the other man’s mouth for saliva Lyle turned a butt squeeze into a fish in the pocket. The guard intensified the kiss and started to unbutton Lyle’s shirt. “I want to fuck you.”

“Sure you do buddy,” Lyle said pulling away and pressing a wet patch onto the guard’s skin that quickly dried up as the liquid entered his blood supply. Instantly the guard collapsed, unconscious.

Fixing his hair and rebuttoning his shirt Lyle left the office and rejoined Zane. “Shagging on the job?” Lyle just rolled his eyes and used his card to open the elevator door. Inside the rental and thumbprint scanner barred their entry to the lower levels. “Cut off a thumb and an eye by chance?” Zane asked hopefully.

“Hardly,” Lyle said sticking a cotton swab into his mouth and swirling it around. “I did however get a hefty sampling of his DNA. Think you can work with that?”

A minute later Zane had assembled his portable chemistry kit and makeshift 3D printer and had created up a pair of green eyes and an adult man’s right hand. They would have looked like Halloween decorations if the eyes didn’t look around every few seconds and the hand twitched. Pressing both to the appropriate scanners the elevator began to descend.

“Kabir was supposed to get Wayne’s spunk from Jack. Aren’t you worried something might have happened to him? Besides, without it how are we going to get into the lab.” Lyle didn’t have to answer to either question. He was saved from answering as the elevator doors opened and revealed the long hallway leading to the impenetrable door. The impenetrable door that stood wide open.

Zane looked at the door mouth agape but Lyle just shrugged and strolled forward. “Seems they forgot to close it.”

“They left a two-ton vault door open?”

“Seems it? Our lucky day.”

Zane followed Lyle cautiously through the door, then seeing what was on the other side lost all his inhibitions. “Crikey, this place is amazing.”

The cavernous room was massive and full of the most high-end and cutting-edge equipment in the body modification field of science. “I think that’s a real-life particle transfuser, and that right there is a pheromone generator.”

“If we do this right this could all be yours,” Lyle said coming up beside the amazed scientist. “No time to gawk now though, we have a job to do.”

The two made their way through the facility, Lyle occasionally having to drag Zane away from a particularly mesmerizing machine or experiment.

Zane had always had a passion for chemistry if not the funds for it. He made do with second-hand chemistry sets and what he could buy from the black market. Still, he had been reduced to pimple elixirs and the occasional love philter. With this machinery, he could reshape men’s bodies, no why stop there, he could create bodies from scratch, edit the human genome, and make new species. With limits, of course, Zane loved science but he didn’t love Wayne Westin. Given the same tools he wouldn’t become the monster he had, hopefully.

At last, they reached Wayne Westin’s personal transformation bay at the back of the facility. Strangely none of the scientists doing various experiments had given them even a single glance, so much for the smoke bombs Zane had cooked up.

“This has to be the most amazing equipment in the place,” Zane said reverently looking at the row of pods in front of a large monitor. “This thing has every piece of body-altering technology known to man.”

Lyle leaned over to examine what Zane was describing.

Clap

Clap

Clap

Clap

Suddenly three figures appeared ten feet away from Lyle and Zane. Their skin changed from translucent to visible like a chameleon in camouflage. Wayne Westin in all his full naked glory, slow clapping with a smug smirk, flanked by equally muscled guards with blank looks on their faces.

“I should congratulate you on your brazenness, or is it stupidity? Trying to con a con, now that takes gumption.” Wayne said, voice dripping in condescension. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice an obvious plant on the inside? Or the grease climbing around my tower like a jungle gym? Well, it matters little, they have taken a new line of employment,” Wayne jested to the man on either side of him and Lyle and Zane went pale.

Only skin color really differentiated the two hulking guards flanking Westin. The one with darker skin must be Kabir while the other must be Jack. What had Wayne done to them, grotesquely muscled and with what looked like asses on both sides of their bodies?

“You see your friends were just telling me how much they loved me, and showing it too I might add. I stripped their manhoods from them, no need for my play things to have those. I can’t wait for you two to join them, and George too, I suspect he is here too somewhere in the building sulking around and thinking himself a mastermind. He was never anything but a pretty face with delusions of making the world a better place. That’s why it was so easy to steal the company from him, take away all his good looks, and frame him for various crimes. Now I’ll take his crew as well and make him watch as you lick my feet. I want him to feel powerless as I mold your bodies to my whim. Jack, Kabir, bring me your friends they can be my new bodyguards, or maybe my playthings.”

Kabir and Jack lumbered towards their former team members hands outstretched.

Clap

Clap

Clap

“You two can stop the act now, I got what I needed.” Kabir and Jack instantly froze then dropping the look of glazed zombie look walked over to join George who was walking towards the transformation bay, slowly clapping his hands in an imitation of Westin.

Westin sputtered in surprise. “Slaves seize him, seize all of them!” Jack and Kabir only look at him with hate in their eyes and satisfied grins on their faces.

“You know what your problem is, Wayne?” George said rising to the stairs to stand with Lyle and Zane, Jack and Kabir joining so that Wayne Westin was facing down all five members of the crew. “You were always so focused on the prize—” George flipped a coin and Wayne’s eyes moved up to follow it’s assent into the air. “—that you could never see the other shoe drop.” George lunged forward, taking the moment of distraction to shove a syringe into Wayne’s neck.

Wayne staggered for a moment, his prodigious size giving him the strength to resist for longer than he should have been able to. Then the serum took effect and started to shrink and shrivel all his synthetic muscles and plastic bones seeped from his pores until he was what he had once been, a small pathetic man that even George towered over.

“I know you, Wayne. You were always small in all senses of the word. When you got a chance to finally be big you used it to make others feel like you had. I used that to take you down, Wayne. I sent Jack in knowing you would try to make him your sex slave. Little did you know we had him laced with a tonic that would prevent any alterations to the mental faculties? You were too caught up in playing god to notice. When Jack told you our plan was to have Kabir steal the sperm sample you believed him. We knew we could never get inside this bunker ourselves, but if you thought you had won, you would never resist a chance to have a dramatic confrontation. You opened the vault doors so you could gloat. Well, let me gloat now, we won and it was all thanks to your arrogance. I’m taking back my fucking company.” George spat the words out glaring down at the pathetic man who used to be his partner and then his nemesis. Now he was just a worm.

Even on the floor Wayne still had enough pride to laugh. “And how do you think you are going to do that? I took you off everything. This is my company!”

“I was rather counting on that.” George pulled out a packet of documents from his suit jacket. “You see, only having one owner on the document makes it much easier for you to sign everything over to me.”

Wayne began to laugh. “Why would I ever do that?”

“I’ll tell you why. Back when we were running this place it was all about transforming the body. You have been a busy boy since though, haven’t you? Moved into the mind in a rather major way. Well, it seems only right that if you took my body when you kicked me out, I should take your mind.”

Lyle started in surprise. “George, this was not the plan.”

George turned back to Lyle, a wintry cold in his eyes. “This was always the plan. Load him up into one of those pods.” Jack and Kabir hoisted a flailing Wayne into one of his transformation pods.

Wayne Westin pounded on the glass as George started to type on the monitor. “Oh, don’t look so blue. I’m giving you your old body back. Call it service rendered for taking your company.

Before their eyes Wayne Westin reinflated, muscles sprung from bony arms and slender chests. Abs popped up like gophers from the grassland of his stomach. His face, previously made gaunt by one of Zane’s more powerful serums now chiseled and full again. He wasn’t quite as overly muscular or handsome as before which made him look sexy rather than cartoonish. George kept typing.

Lyle watched on with a small pit in his stomach. He trusted George and loved him but at that moment he was also afraid of him. He wasn’t the monster Wayne Westin was but Lyle also had no delusions that he was a saint. There was a reason George and Wayne had gotten along so well in the beginning. Transformation to them wasn’t a choice, it was inevitable. Lyle wondered where this would end. Not with Wayne Westin to be sure.

A helmet defended upon Wayne’s head. It was the same mind wipe/reprograming Wayne had tried on Jack and later Kabir. Thanks of Zane’s elixirs, both their minds had been protected from Wayne’s influence. Wayne was less lucky. Over the years Wayne had given himself many permanent resistances to mind alteration. This was why George had stuck him with the serum draining away all his augmentations. George had given Wayne his body back but not the protections to his brain.

“Loyalty, a trait you so lack. I think I’ll give you it now.” George said and he made adjustments on the computer. “And a willingness to follow orders of course. Yes, add in a good dose of horniness for good measure and—”

The tube opened and Wayne stepped out. The crew watched him waiting, for him to attack or run. Instead “There were some documents you needed me to sign?” he asked pleasantly if a little dumbly. “I am glad the company will be in good hands… sir.”

George smiled and then turned to his crew. “Now that that is done, I do believe I promised you all the full treatment on Wayne Westin’s dime. I think he’s willing to deliver.”

Paul Tesle, security guard by day, was used to seeing beautiful men. Positioned in the lobby of HunkTech Paul was privy to all manner of enhanced billionaires and influential politicians. Most notable of all was HunkTech CEO Wayne Westin. Tall, intensely muscular, and intimidatingly handsome Wayne Westin always struck a compelling presence. Now though he didn’t hold a candle.

That may be because he was slightly smaller. Wayne seemed to have gone from some inhuman superhero to a man who was definitively muscular if not to the exclusion of all else. Paul thought this change made Wayne look somehow more attractive, however. No, the reason Wayne Westin was no longer the most sexy man was due to the company he was now in.

Flanking Wayne Westin on his right, a tall, brown-skinned man with a thick head of tawny hair and a matching majestic beard. His build was beefy yet something in the way he moved lent him an air of grace and flexibility.

On Wayne’s other side was another gorgeous man. This one was white, with stubble on his handsome cheeks, and stocky build, and a core that was both toned but also full. He walked differently from the men around him, more casually, relaxed yet still manly. On his rear was a tight ass, and in his front a sizable bulge that showed he undoubtedly was well endowed.

Pushing Wayne forward from behind a dark-skinned man sporting a wild frizz of curls with seemed to hold science equipment in its depths. The hair complemented his tall frame and square chiseled face that housed intelligent eyes.

Then there was the man in the lead. Tall, with corded muscles of steel and hair of brass he was munching happily on a soft pretzel as he looked back at the men behind him.

It was the most beautiful collection of men he had ever seen. Or so he thought until one last figure emerged from the elevator bank. Tall, dark, and handsome didn’t scratch the surface. He was breathtaking, mesmerizing, awe-inspiring. He was-

“I’m your new boss.” The man said addressing the crowd in the lobby who had turned to stare at him. Mutters emerged from the crowd. No one questioned his words, not when he looked like he did. “I intend to run this company a little differently. Over the next few weeks, I will be implementing some big new changes.” The mutters from the crowd intensified.

He laughed. Sexy and deep and rich. “I’m not firing anyone.” He reassured them. “You will all be needed for this new era. HunkTech is about to get a lot, a lot bigger.”

Pop

George’s dick emerged from Lyle’s mouth with a loud pop. “You’re moving too fast.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.” Lyle wiped up some cum from the corner of his mouth with a finger then sucked it. Yum. Blueberry. Lyle appreciated Zane’s new innovations that George had adopted. Still, it wasn’t enough to derail him from his tirade. “These Hunkwashes require infrastructure we don’t yet have, Washington is breathing down our necks about the Berlin fiasco and what’s this I hear about you putting Jack on TV?”

“The Hunkwashes are perfectly on track, Washington is in our pocket, and Jack is going by Hunk now, his new show,So you wanna be a Hunk,is a huge success. George pushed Lyle back onto his dick. Normal refractor periods didn’t apply to either of them anymore.

Lyle sucked for another few moments before pulling off. “Fine I’ll admit you are right about the Hunkwashes and maybe the show is pretty hot too, but I still think we should move forward with my plan for the president.”

“All in due time. We don’t want to play our hand prematurely.”

Lyle continued to suck while he thought of a response. George was nothing if not convinced of his infallibility and stubborn to a fault. His contemplations were interrupted as George came again in his mouth. Roast beef, ick.

George laughed as he watched his lover’s face scrunch up at the lunch meat-flavored cum. Giving him the ability to alter the chemical compound flavor of his cum was supposed to be sexy but George most of the time used it for pranking purposes.

Lyle looked at his lover and his boss. “It’s about the witches isn’t it.”

George’s face lost its mirth, and his voice adopted a darker tone. “It is.”

“So you think they are a threat.”

“I know they are. They have been mobilizing, gathering strength. The houses have united for the first time in maybe ever. They are preparing for something.”

“I still don’t understand,” Lyle said exasperated. George had tasked him with leading the force investigating these witches but refused to tell him why. “What are they preparing for?”

George stood there for a moment. He looked like a god, with a body of perfectly proportioned microplastics and chemical testosterone, face a network of silicone bones to form an angled face, a dick, long and hard, a cyborg of meat and technology. He was a man of science and a man made of science, the very pinnacle of the human race with plans to bring his species to his ascended level. One would think there is nothing that could strike fear into the heart of a god such as this. And yet as he stood there Lyle could see it in his eyes, he was afraid.

“They are preparing for war.”

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