Keith the new guy

by BRK   

New hire Keith readies himself for his first-day meetings with his new boss, but the twink receptionist is kind of distracting—and why does his shirt feel tight all of a sudden?

Keith fidgeted awkwardly as he listened to the twink receptionist informing Keith’s new boss of his arrival like a kid announcing to his friends that the ice cream truck had come. He honestly wasn’t used to the attention he’d started to get lately now that he’d finally managed to layer a few pounds of thin but noticeable muscle onto his heretofore stubbornly wiry frame. Swole guys at the gym who’d looked right through him before were now giving him nods and smiles… that quiet downstairs neighbor with the eyeliner and the bangs over his eyes kept looking at him whenever they ran into each other at the mailboxes… and this guy, a runty, pale-skinned, extroverted bundle of sunshine with a canary-blond Kriswell curl and shining blue eyes that almost seemed like they’d been bumped up just a tiny bit bigger in post, looked at Keith like he wanted to eat him. Keith almost didn’t want the guy to put the phone down because then it would be just them, and being in the same room with a guy who was even a little into him always turned Keith on so badly it was like he transformed into a beacon of male horniness so bright and powerful it could probably be seen from space and felt in the balls of every hot and randy guy from Zanzibar to Ultima Thule.

And that, bottom line, was a bad thing in most cases, but especially this one. Despite his flawless, terracotta-toned skin, reasonably handsome face, and classical proportions, Keith was used to being ignored—the only thing he’d had ever been noticed for was the size of his cock, and that was the one thing he didn’t want to be noticed for. He did everything he could to keep his thick, easily chubbed uncut tool from catching anyone’s eye—showering at home instead of at the gym, keeping his legs pressed together and his hands in his lap on the bus, never wearing sweats, that kind of thing—but all the precautions in the world didn’t help him much whenever that troublemaking, nearly wrist-thick beefstick of his managed to get itself all the way boned for all the world to see.

It was trying. Even now, it was trying. Fuck, he felt ridiculously horny right now, and that was after jacking off last night before bed and in the shower this morning. Was he that excited about being here and starting his new job? Or was it something else?

The receptionist hung up the phone and turned those hungry eyes on him full blast. Keith shifted nervously in his seat. The chair wasn’t uncomfortable—actually, it was an extremely cozy brown-leather armchair, part of a set with a matching sofa and loveseat, like this place was all about the contentment of employees and visitors alike. But Keith knew that he was creeping into the danger zone when it came to keeping himself from springing a huge, pants-tenting erection that would almost certainly ruin his job, his career, and probably his life… and he wasn’t sure what to do about it.

Shit, how much of this is showing on my face? I don’t want to look like a basket case on my first day, he thought. He offered the receptionist guy a shaky smile. The receptionist beamed back at him. “So,” the guy said, “you ready to come back to Conference Room B with me?”

Keith almost swallowed his tongue. A rush of hot arousal raced through him. “W-what?” he gasped. His white dress shirt suddenly felt tight across his chest and shoulders. I absolutely should not have worn a tie, he thought.

Receptionist guy smiled wide at him, like a mouse who’d somehow gained the upper hand on a cat. “That’s where your meeting is,” he said innocently.

“Ah,” Keith said, laughing nervously. He ran his finger under his collar. That was a real thing, apparently, and not just something you saw in old comic strips and sitcoms. His shirt definitely felt too tight now, almost like he’d grabbed the wrong size when he’d bought it. It had fit earlier, though. Weird what the mind will do when you’re nervous, he thought hectically.

The receptionist stood up and gestured saucily for him to follow, and Keith had no choice but to climb to his feet and trail after the man as they passed into the long hallway beyond the front desk and entered the interior of the sprawling corporate space. “I’m Josh, by the way,” the compact twink said over his shoulder.

“Uh, Keith,” he responded automatically, even though he knew he’d already given the blond cutie his name when he’d arrived. He was a little too distracted to think clearly, given that while Josh was skinnier even than Keith had been before his recent hard-won improvements (and a good five inches shorter—itself, unexpectedly, a bit of a turn-on for Keith), the man very unfortunately happened to have a sweet, round, and positively mesmerizing butt, and Keith just couldn’t look away from it. In fact, the rhythmic shiftings of Josh’s pert, perfectly-curved glutes against his tight charcoal trousers were, in that moment, threatening to completely derail Keith’s increasingly ragged ability to keep himself from getting achingly, and obviously, hard.

Josh looked back and winked at him as he walked. “I know who you are,” he sang. He cast his big, bright eyes quickly down Keith’s frame, making a long journey of it despite the elapse of barely a second before he turned to wave into one of the cubicles they were passing. “Hey, Billy!” he called out to the handsome, hairy-looking, tight-muscled bear within.

“Billy” looked up from his screen and grinned. “Hey, Josh-o,” he said in a slight Scottish accent. Catching sight of Keith he added, “Who’s the new meat? Something for us in accounting?”

“I’ll bring you something when I think you’ve earned it,” Josh tossed back teasingly as they passed. Holy lemon zesters, even the way this guy acted like he ran the place was hot, Keith thought. His shirt was decidedly uncomfortable now, straining across his chest and shoulders like it was legitimately too small. And now he was feeling it in his thighs, too—his pant legs felt way too tight all of a sudden from his groin all the way to his knees. Even his shoes felt too small. His imagination must be totally out of control, he thought anxiously. It was almost like his body was trying to convince him he was getting a hard-on all over—or, no, it was more like, that he was growing in proportion to his own arousal, which…

He looked down at himself and stumbled, his mind thrown into senseless confusion like a twenty-car pile-up on a fog-bound overpass.

His shirt really was too small—except the shirt wasn’t too small, he was too big. He was bigger. Somehow he was bigger. His pecs were… what? Instead of the thin slab of boneless steak his once-flat, then modestly improved pecs had been this morning, he had two shapes that looked like half-inflated volleyballs pushing out his shirt like they belonged there, the plackets bowing wildly between the straining buttons. His crimson tie was sort of falling off them like a cliff and dangling over the flat abs below. He felt his shirt sleeves pulling almost painfully at his upper arms, too, and when he looked over he saw that some kind of inexplicable growth had afflicted his biceps and triceps the same way it had his pecs. And it didn’t stop with his shirt. His cheap trousers looked and felt almost ready to split at the seams, and his already prominent bulge seemed to be hoping to dramatically test his zipper even without a full-blown hard-on behind it. Weirdest of all, the cuffs on his pants were showing a couple inches or more of his cobalt-blue dress socks—a corresponding length of wrist was exposed above each hand, too.

Suddenly unsure of his footing, he shot out a hand and pressed it against a nearby wall, leaning on it for support as his brain metaphorically blew its gaskets, sending exploding bolts and springs flying all over his cognitive space.

He was only conscious of two things in that moment: himself, and Josh. Josh was walking ahead, oblivious for the moment, but he would turn around any second and see him like this—so body-expandingly aroused he was somehow about to rip through his actual clothes from head to toe. The hell do I do—? The hell do I DO—??

He couldn’t burst out of his clothes. He fixated on that. That would be the worst thing. The growing didn’t matter, but his clothes ripping off him, exposing him, leaving him basically nude and hugely aroused deep inside the very heart of this beast, this office reality a million miles from reality—that would be an unbearable humiliation at a level approaching complete existence failure.

He squeezed his eyes closed. No, no, no, he thought, sending the plea out into the universe, everything else falling away. His mind filled with only one frantic thought, repeating over and over again. Not the clothes. Whatever I am, the clothes are my clothes. The clothes are my clothes. Whatever I am—

“Keith?” asked Josh’s voice suddenly. He felt a touch on his arm and he started violently, his eyes flying open. Josh was looking up at him, the lust in his eyes mixed with tentative concern. Keith stared down at him—how is he a foot shorter than me now? he wondered distractedly—then checked his own body in a panic. His clothes had… his clothes…

It didn’t make any sense, but he was grateful. His clothes… Somehow they had righted themselves in the past few seconds, conforming to his new configuration. He was still bigger, still swollen with muscle, and sized up like he’d had an entire second puberty in the space of the last two minutes; but his shirt, trousers, shoes, and even his tie all looked like they’d been tailored perfectly to his new frame, as if he’d been this big for ages and he’d been buying his clothes at Giant Hunk Warehouse this whole time.

He offered Josh a weak smile. “Sorry. Guess I didn’t eat my Wheaties this morning,” he joked.

Josh’s smile spread into a smirk. “Conference Room’s just around the corner,” he said. “Once I get you in there, do you want me to… bring you a muffin?” He actually wiggled his blond eyebrows, too, just to underline the ridiculous innuendo.

Keith felt another wave of wild arousal, his whole being feeling almost suffused with lust. “I think I’d be grateful if you did,” he laughed softly, his lips curving into a smile almost of their own accord. He felt very hot and very, very tempted to lean down and—and—

Wait, was he really that much taller now, or had Josh shrunk a little? He seemed a little more compact, somehow. Was that just Keith’s new perspective, or—? No, whatever was happening to Keith seemed to be spilling over onto Josh, too. The smaller man, though still skinny, was visibly slightly more buff now, almost like Keith had been that morning. And his face was more bewitching than ever, Keith was sure, especially those big blue eyes. Keith was almost afraid to see what his butt looked like now. If that ass had gotten any finer, it might just break Keith’s brain. Not that he was far from that happening now.

Josh grinned saucily up at him, and Keith felt yet another massive rush of hot, unsteadying arousal. “That’s the plan, then,” Josh said brightly, turning on his heel and resuming his brisk walk down the office passageway before vanishing around the next corner. Only when Josh was out of sight and Keith’s attention returned to himself did he realize his body had shifted again. For one thing, he was now leaning against the wall with two hands instead of one. Okay, that was… yeah. Okay.

He straightened almost in a daze, feeling light-headed and hugely aroused at the same time. His swollen chest now boasted two stacked sets of increasingly thick pecs—and not only was his nice white dress shirt still keeping pace with his new muscularity, it had even adapted to his sporting four powerful arms instead of two… though he felt an unaccountable urge to rip the sleeves off and expose his heavy corded arms to the world. Keith shivered, and suddenly unable to hold back his erection any longer he urgently reached into his pants with a hand chosen at random—one of his rights—and straightened out his insistent erection before it hurt itself trying to rip through his trousers.

No, strike that. Not erection—erections, plural.

Just the awareness of two monster hard-ons in his pants hit him like a truck, even before the extreme pleasure of them rubbing together in a confined space, physically hot and already slightly slippery, started to overwhelm his already reeling brain. With a guilty pang he remembered where he was, and quickly turned around to see if he was being observed. Sure enough, a cute-looking South Asian guy was leaning casually against the entrance to his cubicle, coffee mug in hand, enjoying the show. Keith quickly yanked his hand free and waved at the guy, who saluted him with a grin before retreating out of view into his workspace.

For a second Keith contemplated forgetting his new job and just fleeing the office altogether and, if possible, the planet. His landlord probably would like him to pay rent next month, though, and there was always the eating thing. Gritting his teeth and steadying his nerves as best he could, he squared his newly broadened shoulders and, pausing only briefly to sort out how to walk on four feet instead of two, started heading in the direction of the corner Josh had disappeared around.

As promised, Conference Room B was a few feet down the side corridor he’d turned into, but when he poked his head in Josh was nowhere to be seen. He went in anyway, uncertain what to do, and was relieved when the now-two-feet-shorter, gymnast-muscled receptionist appeared a couple of minutes later with a basket of assorted muffins, a folded piece of white plastic, and a couple of cartons of orange juice.

Keith was hungry—he suspected this body took a lot of fuel—but right now all he could see was the muffin of the stud variety currently eyeing Keith knowingly as he closed the conference room door and turned the glass walls facing the side corridor opaque with a flick of a wall switch by the door. He set the basket and the drinks down on the side credenza, opened up what turned out to be a big red-checkered plastic tablecloth to cover most of the smoked-glass trapezoidal conference table, and then slinked very deliberately toward Keith.

Their eyes locked as Josh closed the distance between them until they stood a mere few inches apart. Keith watched him, trying not to pant too audibly.

“Something tells me,” Josh began, lightly running a long finger down Keith’s deep, doubled cleavage, “that you’re a little too pent up to meet with your new boss just yet.”

Keith knew he wasn’t even capable of subtlety at this point. His whole body was throbbing with need, and he now had two huge erections shoving up past his waistband under his shirt and another two, bigger and even more randy and desperate, poking the backs of his thighs wetly from between his rear set of legs. He needed to cum more than any man ever, explosively and from as many cocks as possible.

“Can you help me?” he rasped. “It won’t take long.”

“It’ll take,” Josh said, firmly holding Keith’s gaze while unbuckling his belt, “exactly as long as I want it to.” Keith gulped as Josh got the buckle open and started undoing Keith’s pants. “Fortunately for you, Brian and Ramón are headed in here any minute…”

The prospect of being discovered caused Keith to feel another body-shuddering tidal wave of hot, consuming need, and he had to hold back a whimper. Josh, still looking at him, freed his three front cocks, each as thick and long as Keith’s own bodybuilder-thick forearms, and added, “So I’ll be quick… this time.”

True to his word, it only took a few moments of exuberant and quite expert ministrations with mouth and hand before Josh had Keith cumming from all six cocks, the rear ones shoving rudely between his front legs to blow their incredible loads. Josh drank some of it and deftly directed most of the rest of his tremendous jizz output onto the checkered covering he’d shrewdly laid out. When Keith was finally done climaxing and they’d calmed down with a long hug, Josh then folded the tablecloth up and set it aside to take out with him, mopping up the stray excess spunk with some premium napkins out of the credenza. Meanwhile Keith, simultaneously floating in afterglow and red-faced with raw embarrassment at his easy orgasm and the need for it in the middle of the office at his new job—on his first day, and before he’d even officially started!—fumblingly worked at making himself presentable again as quickly as he possibly could.

When he was done he realized Josh was in front of him again, staring up at him with wry affection. Keith gave him a crooked smile. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, heart still pounding from his stratospheric release and, just as much, from the hot look in Josh’s eyes that suggested a long future ahead of thoroughly mutual pleasure.

Josh gave him a droll smile. “I don’t know, you’re all the way up there…” he teased. Without letting him finish the sentence, Keith grabbed him with all six hands and lifted him easily so they were face to face, then kissed him soundly and thoroughly, letting his long, luscious, newly doubled tongues intertwine tantalizingly with Josh’s. This time, when they broke the kiss, it was Josh who looked a little dazed.

With a smug smile of his own, Keith wordlessly set Josh down, then puckered his lips down at him in a playful air kiss. Josh grinned, and, picking up the detritus of their encounter, headed out of the conference room with a wink. As he passed into the hall Keith heard him say, “Oh, hey Brian, hey Ramón. The new guy is all yours!”

Keith was alone in the conference room for what he knew might be mere moments. He swiveled around nervously, taking stock of the large rectangular chamber, with its smoked-glass trapezoidal conference table and its little army of castered office chairs and all. He expected the space to feel sullied, what with the twink receptionist Josh having messily sucked him off mere moments ago, extracting what felt like quarts of scalding-hot spend from his six still-chubbed monster tools before flouncing off as nonchalantly as though he’d merely been in here innocently dropping off juice and muffins and nothing more. The blond was gone but the feeling of his pleasuring remained across every surface of Keith’s body he had touched with hands, lips, and tongue—not to mention the implied promise of future service as needed that was still worming relentlessly through Keith’s dazed, uncomprehending brain.

But it was like nothing had happened. Everything looked exactly as it should be, uniformly pristine and as soullessly corporate as every conference room ever, from the perfect alignment of the chairs to the banal wall art, the leather sofa on the back wall, the low-maintenance Kentia Palm in the corner, and the gleaming glass tabletop, undebauched and somehow completely unsmeared with Keith’s smelly, copious gouts of cum.

Voices in the hallway. Frantically, Keith checked his clothes again. Somehow, it was all tailored to his strange new form. No seams were torn, no buttons were straining, and everything was as stowed away as it could be. How was he like this? How were his clothes like this? A little hysterically he found himself imagining advanced Malaysian factories producing high-quality affordable dress shirts for the discerning customer who happened to possess a triple-stacked chest and six arms thick and powerful enough to lift sassy receptionists off their feet with no discernable effort. He giggled despite himself. Even his tie was longer, now that it had to trail over the three rows of tightly-stacked pecs and what he uneasily suspected to be a ten-pack on top of that. And how did he even get into this four-legged alternate-universe version of his favorite dark blue cotton-wool dress pants? Was there a second zipper at his coccyx? How did you even design—?

“Mr. McKenzie, right? Sorry to keep you waiting.” Keith snapped out of his reverie to find himself addressed by a cruelly handsome Latino with riveting dark eyes, long lush silken hair, and a sinuous, tautly muscled body that filled out his fitted cobalt-blue and equally tailored dark trousers like an invitation to caress and claim. Instantly, Keith’s ungovernable and apparently highly excitable cocks started trying to swell and strain against the strange jock-like compression underwear he’d found himself wearing when he’d hurriedly fastened himself up, taking advantage of his momentary semi-flaccidity to force his multiplied, unruly junk into some kind of submission. His skin heated and his face burned as the criminally sexy man approached him convivially, hand extended like he wasn’t being loomed over by a multilimbed freak whose sweaty hair was just shy of brushing against the drop-ceiling tiles. Shit, my hair! Keith thought abruptly, horrified at what the mess it must be after actually having sex in the conference room five minutes prior must be telegraphing to his new boss. Well, that and blushing scarlet like a teenage boy caught masturbating by his mother barging in to collect the laundry.

The too-hot newcomer was offering him what seemed to be a genuinely welcoming smile, though, and the hand was still extended. Maybe he didn’t look as louche and depraved as he thought. Keith gulped and, taking a second to choose his lowest right hand (because it was closer to the much shorter hunk), reached out and took it. With a new layer of alarm he noticed his hand had a couple more fingers than usual, but it was too late to abort and he went through with the gesture anyway.

“Ramón,” the guy said, smiling a little wider as they shook. “I’m the lead on the development team you’ll be joining. I think you’ve already met Brian from HR?” he added as they disengaged.

He gestured behind him, and Keith gaped at the pink-shirted, auburn-haired apparition of almost inhuman physique he had somehow failed to notice, a thin accordion folder full of papers in his hand. Ramón’s sepia-hued buffness was more along the lines of a sleekly built fashion model than a big bulging fitness icon. The cute guy looking up at him now from behind him, though—Brian, Ramón had said… this guy was built. No, more than that. He’d started at “built,” and then every muscle that guys found sexy—his pecs, his delts, his upper arms, probably his ass—had been amped up a few stages past what even heavyweight bodybuilders normally achieved. The pecs especially stood out from his chest like a shelf. Keith was pretty sure the guy could not see his feet thanks to those things. His clothes fit him perfectly except for the buttons straining across his chest, like those muscles had thickened even more after he’d bought the salmon-pin button-down he was wearing now. Fuck, the overhead fluorescents were casting a literal shadow over his flat, no-doubt chiseled abs.

Wait. Brian? Keith had interviewed with a Brian, but this guy… well, facially they looked similar, but the Brian he’d interviewed with was like the “before” picture, lightly muscled but not impossibly swole this guy. Had he changed, too, like Keith had. The idea turned him on, sending forks of excited arousal through him. No, not good. Rein it in, dude! he told his libido anxiously.

Keith swallowed again and looked away, except his eyes were drawn back to Ramón’s radiant, cock-hardening allure like filings to a magnet. These guys were amazing and definitely a little unreal, which was… calming? Sure, Brian and Ramón were six-foot-something specimens of extremely compelling masculinity, Keith even more so. He towered over them by at least a foot and a half, sporting extra limbs and other modifications he hadn’t fully taken stock of (he rubbed his twin tongues along the roof of his mouth self-consciously). He was even more beyond normal, but they were all in the same boat, all anomalous together. Keith let his nerves settle, at least some, and tried his hand at a smile.

“Great,” Brian said, offering his own smile in response. His voice was so startling basso it seemed to thrum faintly in Keith’s belly, and Keith sucked in a breath. “We’ve got some paperwork to go through, then maybe we’ll do a little tour of the place before we get you started on training and—”

A new face appeared in the doorway, and Keith widened his eyes in shock. It was the guy who’d been smugly eyeballing him as he’d passed by a little while earlier, following Josh to the conference room. Only the guy now seemed to have three legs instead of the two he’d had before. It wasn’t just him that was changing! The guy scoped Keith head to toe, but not like he was cataloging Keith’s freakishness—no, his once-over smacked of an office Lothario who’d noticed the hot new guy and had decided to steal a second opportunity to ogle on the way to the coffee machine. Their eyes met and the three-legged lecher winked before sauntering off and disappearing down the hallway.

A shot of intense arousal coursed through him, and all at once he felt feverish and disoriented. He felt a smack against the crown of his skull as his head thunked against the ceiling tiles. “Oh, careful,” Ramón said, wincing on Keith’s behalf. “I guess we’re going to have to find larger facilities if we keep hiring guys as big as you.”

Keith gaped down at the much smaller hotties. “As big as—?” he repeated dumbly.

“We have an intern as big as you,” Brian offered. “Maybe bigger. There’s a few more close to your size, I think.” His brows drew together slightly. “It’s hard to keep track for some reason.”

At the thought of changes rippling through the office so much they were blurring the lines of what people remembered, Keith’s fever intensified and seemed to spread outward from him. Ramón’s eyes darkened with lust, and Brian’s stare became intense. Without a word he closed the door to the conference room, noting the still-opaque glass walls briefly before gazing up at Keith with unmitigated lust. Ramón stalked toward him like a panther, looking even more lithely muscled and mesmerically handsome. “One of the key tenets of this company,” Ramón purred as they closed in on him, “is how diligently we work to ensure that the needs of our employees are swiftly taken care of.”

Like a vicious cycle, the intense desire infecting Brian and Ramón only aggravated Keith’s extreme need, ramping his internal heat up exponentially. He felt his body being affected all over, every part of him transforming like cells undoing forced mitosis. His arms seemed to pop outward and suddenly he had four arms for each compressed row of pecs instead of two, the extra limbs crowding at his expanded shoulders front and back. New fingers flooded onto his hands. His abdomen ratcheted up a notch, then another, as he went from a ten-pack to a fourteen-pack in the space of a single crazed, febrile crash of his pounding heart. He was stooping, unable to stand in the high-ceiling room, and that was before more legs jammed out of him, lengthening and multiplying.

He fell to his knees, staring wildly at the two men as they attended to him, Brian unbuttoning his perfectly fitted twelve-armed dress shirt while Ramón knelt to unfasten his favorite multilegged trousers. “It’s corporate policy,” Brian was explaining, his enormous pecs shifting and bunching as he worked, “though some teams are more attentive than others.”

Ramón looked up at Keith with a wink. “My team is very attentive to the needs of its… members.”

Members. Oh, god. Fire was burning through his body, melting his brain like a slug under a magnifying glass. He had more groins than before, so many groins, and they were all packed with huge, uncontrollable, raging-hard cocks the size of these guys’ arms. They were all free, his compression underwear gone as if he’d willed it away. Cock after cock jutted outward or pushed between legs or jostled against other cocks in hot, cum-smeared places under him.

He found Ramón’s knowing gaze and pushed two rand hands through his hair, locking eyes with him. “Gotta cum,” he whimpered. He felt out of control, not least because his need seemed to be driving his transformation, and the changes were getting wilder and more extreme.

Brian was already stroking a few of Keith’s massive, extremely sensitive fencepost cocks with four of his strong hands, diligently addressing his responsibilities with gratifying zeal. Ramón, however, only held Keith’s gaze as he found his phone and lifted it to his ear. “Hey, Lorenzo?” he said into the phone. “I’m in Conference Room B. Can you get the whole team in here? We have a new regular group exercise to train everyone in.”

Keith was panting, staring into those hypnotic, arousing eyes. His call completed, Ramón dropped the phone and all at once their mouths were pressing together. His pleasure spiked, more arms and cocks popping out as a result, and Keith forced himself to focus on the simple sensation and not let his catastrophically elevated arousal crest any higher than it was. Focus. This kiss was huger and passionate but also beautiful and sweet, his three tongues wrestling with Ramón’s becoming more of a sinuous, rhythmic dance. Brian was kissing him too, now, and, okay, he had another head, but that was okay. Just focus on the stream of pleasure.

As they kissed, more hands found Keith’s hard, powerfully muscled body. More mouths found Keith’s needy, leaky, desperate cocks. He didn’t need to grow. He just needed to cum. To cum, and cum and cum—!!

An ocean of pleasure crashed through Keith and he blacked out. When he awoke, his naked body was being diligently cleaned by five or six sexy, shirtless guys with towels and damp cloths. They were mostly ordinary compared to him, he noted, though four arms seemed to be pretty standard. But then, Keith himself was scaled back from the irrational extremes he’d reached before, for reasons he would have to examine… later.

He got to his (six) feet, his colleagues still wiping him down as he stood, and considered himself. He fit in the room again, and guessing from the relative sizes of the furnishings he was “only” somewhere around nine feet tall. He still had the twelve arms, though, and rather more tingling, half-tumescent cocks than maybe he truly needed.

He swallowed, realizing belatedly that he did so with two throats, and wondered if he might be in the tiniest bit of trouble given his two rounds of profligate, unrestrained sex at the very inception of his employment here. He looked around uncertainly for Brian and Ramón, and after a moment spotted them curled up naked on the couch in the back of the room, making out sweetly.

He smiled in stereo, and thought that he might just be able to find his place here. If he could keep his focus, that is. Well, there were all kinds of training in the corporate world. He would find the groove he needed to come out on top.

He looked down at the topless, four-armed hunks happily cleansing him of his own ridiculous amounts of cum (and most likely others’ as well). “So,” he said in a low, smooth basso that was all the more sexy in his own ears for being doubled, “which one of you is Lorenzo?”

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MultiGeoff by BRK New recruit Geoff reports for duty on a gigantic space station and learns that his first task is to reshape himself—and not in a figurative sense. 2,556 words Added Aug 2023 4,588 views 5.0 stars (3 votes) No comments yet •Cock Growth•Huge Balls•Huge Cock•Public Orgasm•Multi-balls•Multicock•Boytaur•Four Legs•Lots of Legs•Multileg•Multilimb•Multitongue•Public Nudity•Merging•Space Travel•Complete•Stories with Images•Set in the Future •M•M/M

The blue pumpkin by BRK Dominic is sure his blue pumpkin jack-o’-lantern will be a hit. What he doesn’t know is what will be brought forth when he lights the candle within… 6 parts 8,774 words Added Oct 2020 14k views 5.0 stars (20 votes) No comments yet •Always Hard•Cock Growth•Huge Cock•Hyper Cock•Hyper Cum•Multiarm•Multilimb•Multitongue•Replication•Muscle Growth•Muscle/Strength•Stretchy•Getting Taller•Mouthcock•Incest•Twins•Selfcest•Merging•Supernatural•Halloween•Complete •M/M•M/M/M•M/M/M/...

The power of suggestion: Wetbar by BRK A night out at the bar leads to a series of changes to a very happy young clubgoer. 2,751 words Added Feb 2009 30k views 4.9 stars (16 votes) No comments yet •Cock Growth•Huge Balls•Huge Cock•Hyper Cum•Public Orgasm•Multi-abs•Multicock•Replication•Other Mental Changes•Muscle Growth•Muscle/Strength•Increased Libido•Getting Handsomer•Transformation•Plausible Size Difference•Size Increase•Age Regression•Mouthcock•Retcon•Suggestion•Brothers•Twins•Selfcest•Complete •M/M/M

Meta-mischief by BRK Detective Randy Trevino starts experiencing increasingly strange and embarrassingly sexy glitches in his morning routine, and he’s sure his precinct frenemy, the lean and handsome Detective Jake Rivers, is behind it. 3,569 words Added Apr 2024 4,181 views 4.9 stars (15 votes) No comments yet •Always Hard•Cock Growth•Huge Balls•Ball Growth•Huge Cock•Hyper Cock•Hyper Cum•Nipple Emissions•Public Orgasm•Multicock•Muscle Growth•Always Shirtless•Getting Handsomer•Gradual Change•Getting Taller•Plausible Size Difference•Size Increase•App•Retcon•Nonconsensual change•Complete •M/M

Twinmaster by BRK You can get lots of strange stuff on eBay—even a Twinner 3000. And if you’re obsessed with twins, you might just buy it even if there’s no chance in hell it could possibly work. 4 parts 3,500 words Added Mar 2004 11k views 4.9 stars (14 votes) No comments yet •Cock Growth•Huge Cock•Multicock•Replication•Muscle Growth•Muscle/Strength•Selfcest•Complete •M/M•M/M/M