The toys that bind

by Alex Anders

Gottfried Icks has trouble focussing sometimes. Will the universe monkeying around in his life help or hinder that?

Gottfried Icks was sitting out in the park, enjoying the beautiful day and studying for his classes, when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Hoping it was a bird or a squirrel or some other cute critter, he was disappointed when a proper look revealed it to be a weird little mummified hand, dark and wrinkly and covered with hair.

Gottfried wrinkled his nose at the sight, but returned to his studies. It wouldn’t do to mess with monkey’s paws, after all. But now that he’d noticed it, the paw drew the eye, and the beautiful day, usually such an aid to his focus, was nothing but a grand distraction. It certainly didn’t help that Gottfried knew what he would wish for, and was confident that it couldn’t twist too far past his desires.

With a resigned sigh, he packed up his coursework and decided to go to the club he worked at. Hopefully he could manage the distractions better there. He passed several orgies, enjoying the beautiful day—and each other—to its fullest potential, and Officer Copper making his rounds, wearing nothing but his usual belt, hat and badge.

Gottfried sighed again, even more tempted to make that wish, but he had classes to study for and work to do. He went around the central plaza—the lovely statue there would have destroyed his dwindling resolve—and kept his gaze fixed on his feet as he passed the Strapp Shoppe—he still didn’t have the money to buy one of those fancy biorganic Jacques Strapps.

When he finally made it to the club, resolve tattered but intact, he signed in at the front desk then went to his room and carefully unpacked his things. At least until he brushed up against something dark and wrinkly and covered with hair.

“Jesus Christ!” he shouted as he pulled his hand out in shock, scattering his coursework all over the room. Once his heartbeat was back under control, he went back into his book bag and pulled out the monkey’s paw. “You little…” Gottfried muttered. “I must have swept you in without thinking. And now I’ve got to clean up this mess. I wish you’d leave me alone.”

Did his eyes deceive him, or did the middle finger twitch? No matter. Gottfried set the monkey’s paw aside and cleaned up the mess he’d made of his course work, then got ready for work. He slipped out of his clothes and into his uniform, set out his coursework, flipped the occupancy sign to ‘in’, and settled in to work.

Now, even with the free love laws on the books, there were certain activities that were best done behind closed doors. This included much of BDSM, but not for any prurient reasons. No, it was because the local cops were required to treat the universal safe words of “no” and “stop” seriously at all times. Or at least while on duty.

The point was, Gottfried Icks worked at one of several sex clubs in town that catered to the local BDSM community and was well known for his free use service where he let himself be fucked and fondled while doing course work and other important tasks. And thanks to a quirk of his brain chemistry, the sexual arousal from these activities actually increased his ability to focus on tasks. It’s the main reason he did most of his studying outdoors—the constant stream of cruising men was guaranteed to key him up, even if no one asked to fuck around with him specifically.

Or at least, it was if he wasn’t distracted by a maybe-malevolent, maybe-misunderstood, definitely-distressing wish-granting entity. And it didn’t help that the paw had followed him from the park. But actual sex? That would push all unwanted thoughts out of his mind lickety-split, monkey’s paw or no. And as luck would have it, one of his regulars found his way in.

“Hey Free Dicks,” he said.

“Rimshot, pleasure to see you,” Gottfried replied. “You’re in early.”

“I could say the same to you,” Rimshot replied, laying a hand on Gottfried’s ass. “What’s bugging you today?”

“I found a monkey’s paw,” Gottfried said. “Completely derailed my train of thought. Doesn’t help that it followed me here.”

“Really?” Rimshot said, looking around until he spotted a weird little mummified hand, dark and wrinkly and covered with hair. “Dear god,” he continued, picking up the monkey’s paw, “imagine the mayhem this thing could cause!”

“Here’s hoping it leaves me alone,” Gottfried said.

“Oh, you’re no fun!” Rimshot shot back. “Well, if you’re not gonna make a wish, I will. I wish I could fuck you with everything I’ve got. Whoa!” He was startled by the pointer finger of the monkey’s paw curling down, granting his wish. “I didn’t think that would work!”

“Dude!” Gottfried cried. “Ugh, now I know why it followed me here. Get in my ass and do what you do best, you deviant.”

“Now, now, Free Dicks,” Rimshot said, wagging his finger. “I’m the client, you’re the server. That means I’m the one in charge here.”

Gottfried rolled his eyes. “I know you, Rimshot,” he countered, “you pay good money to rim brats. It’s why I’m your favorite,” he added with a wicked grin.

Rimshot narrowed his eyes, then brusquely flipped Gottfried onto his belly. “You will stay put and stay quiet, or so help me, I will get Daddy Bondo in here to tie you down and shut you up!”

“Yes sir, mister Rimshot sir,” Gottfried said, displaying meekness, “staying put and staying quiet.” He mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key, then set to reading his textbook.

“You better,” Rimshot shot back, then started rimming his fuck partner in earnest.

Gottfried smiled. Rimshot was one of his best clients, and an expert rimmer. His freakishly long tongue coupled with years of experience meant he was able to find the prostate without fail every time, and his tastes meant he was particularly incentivized to find it as quickly as possible. If it were possible to keep Rimshot in his ass full-time, he wouldn’t hesitate for a millisecond.

After a minute or so, though, Rimshot was strangely quiet. Normally, Rimshot was quite loud in his appreciation of Gottfried’s ass, moaning and slurping and even saying a few things with a comically thick lisp. It was strange, especially since, if anything, Rimshot was more enthusiastic with his rimming, and Gottfried turned to look over his ass to see what was going on.

He found that Rimshot had somehow managed to stuff his entire head into it! “Jesus—Rimshot! Are you okay?” He tried to pull off, but Rimshot held on, trying to keep him in place. “For Christ’s sake Rimshot, red light! Red light! This is freaking me out!”

Rimshot stopped his struggling and pulled out of Gottfried. His head was much reduced and misshapen, looking more like a butt plug than a head, and also seemed to have a metallic gleam. His lips were compressed around his tongue, which was sticking all the way out and drooling onto the bed. His ears and eyes and nose were squished almost, but not quite, shut as well, and his neck was quite thin, his chin jutting out all the way around like a flare.

“What?” Rimshot lisped. “I want thith. And I know you do too. When I let you bwat out, you keep telling me to thtay in like the good little butt plug I am.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to freak out when it actually happens!” Gottfried shouted. “Jesus Christ, look at you! I didn’t think the monkey’s paw would go this far!”

“Well, it ith,” Rimshot lisped. “And I am gween as a new thpwing day. But ith you aren’t, I could alwayth find another ath to thill.”

“Don’t you dare!” Gottfried cried. “You are mine, and mine alone. Get back in this ass and finish the job.”

“I take it—”

“Green light, yes,” Gottfried cut in, forcibly shoving Rimshot’s butt plug head back against his ass. “Provided you still are, of course?”

“Oh yeth,” Rimshot lisped, and dove back into his new home. It wasn’t long before the rest of his body shrank away to nothing, becoming nothing but a flange to prevent embarrassing accidents. Its tongue didn’t let up though, and squirmed and writhed in Gottfried’s ass until the man was almost sent teetering into orgasm—almost, but not quite. Gottfried pulled out his new butt plug just before he hit the point of no return.

He looked it over. Its body and head were almost indistinguishable from a normal butt plug cast in metal, but its tongue was still as thick, long and juicy as it was when Rimshot was fully human. “Jesus, Rimshot, look at you! A fully biorganic butt plug vibrator, and you’re all mine!” It writhed its tongue for a little longer, then retracted it into its body, leaving only a pair of thin lips behind to tell of the secret pleasure within.

Then Gottfried realized something. “Oh Christ,” he started, “this is where Jacques Strapps came from, isn’t it? Someone wished to become a jockstrap, and now there’s a whole brand based around living underclothes!” He looked at the monkey’s paw, discarded by the door, and noticed the pointer finger uncurling before his eyes. “Jesus fuck, you rewrite reality so you were never used, don’t you? That’s why you made biorganic cloth a thing and the original Jacques Strapp’s dad into its inventor. And now that Rimshot here has wished himself into a butt plug, you’ve probably got his dad inventing them. Or maybe his mom. I shouldn’t assume. Christ, what am I going to do?”

The butt plug that was Rimshot opened its lips and stuck out its tongue again, licking the air to see if it was where it belonged again. Gottfried sighed and got the hint. “Yeah, fine, I’ll put you back in. Just don’t go too far, if I cum I’ll be useless until tomorrow morning. Jesus, I hope you can understand that.” He slotted Rimshot back in and it fit perfectly, its tongue immediately shooting out to lick and prod its owner’s prostate.

“Good little butt plug,” Gottfried moaned. “Yeah, that hits the spot.”

The door opened, and in walked another of Gottfried’s regulars, Dixon Chains, well known as a master of the edge, and another of Gottfried’s favorite clients. Less well known was the fact that he was Rimshot’s brother, and the two often worked together to drive Gottfried to distraction. Or try to at any rate, they never managed without Daddy Bondo’s help to tie him down.

“Free Dicks, you’re in early today,” Dixon said. “And I see you’ve brought your Rimshot.”

Gottfried blinked. “Your brother?”

Dixon laughed. “Well, my parents did create those wonderful devices,” he admitted, “but I wouldn’t go so far as to call them my brothers.”

Gottfried blinked again. “I see,” he said, shaking his head. It seemed the world around him had been rewritten, but had left him behind. He knew that finger had twitched! “Well, anyway, I’m here because I found a monkey’s paw, and needed a heavy duty distraction to keep me occupied. Doesn’t help that it followed me home.” He glanced at the paw, still sitting on the end table by the door, and Dixon followed his gaze.

“Really now,” Dixon said, picking it up. “Too scared to make a wish, are you? Well that just will not do! I wish I had absolute control over your little libido! Woah!” The paw’s pointer finger curled down again, granting his wish. “Well,” Dixon said, “this is gonna be fun!”

Gottfried grinned. “I sure hope so!”

And oh, it was. Now that Gottfried knew what to expect, at least the broad strokes, he was fully prepared to enjoy his client’s transformation into his sex toy. Buying biorganic toys? Rookie mistake.

Dixon started as he normally did, with his hands, but switched to his mouth more quickly than usual. Soon enough, it became apparent that his usual methods would not be satisfying him this time around. “Would you be… interested in fucking me?” he asked after some hesitation.

“I dunno,” Gottfried said, playing up his brattiness.

“Sorry, I said that wrong,” Dixon amended. “You will fuck me, or so help me I will get Daddy Bondo in here.”

“Yes sir, of course, sir where do you want me sir?” Gottfried replied, laying back and splaying out.

“Right there is fine, boy,” Dixon said. “Now hold still.” The edge master lowered himself onto Gottfried’s free, rock-hard dick, then plunged onto it, suddenly awash in the greatest pleasure he’d ever experienced, coupled with the sudden realization that he’d found his purpose. “God yes!” he cried as his transformation began in earnest.

The first thing to change was his anus, gaping wide to swallow Gottfried balls, then clamping down around the root of his cock. It hardened into a ring of biorganic metal, much like the shell of his once and future brother, and became a subtly flexing cock ring, perfectly tailored to keep its owner’s dick engorged without inducing a medical emergency.

Then Dixon’s limbs reduced, forcing Gottfried to sit up and lean over so his dick wouldn’t get ripped off. It wasn’t long before Dixon’s torso reduced too, becoming a sleeve of skin covering its owner’s cock, and then opening up into a set of fine chains to allow it to breathe. Speaking of, Dixon’s own dick shortened up, his cock slit disgorging its owner’s balls and the glans and balls merging and hardening into another biorganic metal ring, this time with a bit more heft to weigh the balls down.

The last to go was Dixon’s head, reducing to nought but his lips, which hardened into yet another biorganic metal ring and settled into the groove of Gottfried’s corona, flexing and bending to squeeze the urethra closed and cut off the flow of its owner’s pre.

Its transformation complete, Gottfried’s new Dixon Chain settled in to edge its owner. It pinched and flexed and squeezed Gottfried’s dick with—well, ‘practiced’ is the wrong word, but there’s nothing else that fits—ease, bringing Gottfried to new heights of pleasure never before seen. And then there was Rimshot, still licking and prodding and throbbing away in his ass. It was safe to say that Gottfried was in heaven! That Gottfried was in hell! That Gottfried was in the best and worst of all possible worlds! And he never needed to worry about his focus again, he had access to the perfect edge whenever and wherever he needed it!

“Fuck yeah, I’m so glad I didn’t miss this,” Gottfried cried. “And so glad the monkey’s paw picked me.”

“Monkey’s paw?” a man said. Another of Gottfried’s clients, and his true favorite, Arneson Strapp. He was a lovely care-dom, and an expert at reading Gottfried’s tells, keeping his other clients at bay when Gottfried himself was too keyed up to use his safe words. Which, now that he thought of it, was getting dangerously close to occurring with his new toys.

“Oh, um,” Gottfried said, “I found one. Or it found me, I’m not sure anymore, and it followed me here, and I may have bitten off more than I can chew because my last two clients wished themselves into my sex toys and they were some of the most persistent fuckers I ever knew and now I’m kinda trapped with them in my ass and around my dick?”

“Woah, breathe, Gott, breathe,” Arneson said, shutting the door and flipping the occupancy sign to ‘out’. “Let me get them off you, and then you can say all that again, okay?”

“Yes please! Green light all the way!”

Arneson made short work of pulling out the Rimshot and pulling off the Dixon Chain, and set them aside on the end table away from the door, the two of them writhing around trying to find their place on their owner. He massaged Gottfried’s aching hole and dick, red and raw from the edging onslaught his toys had put him through, and helped his sub get his breathing back under control.

“So,” Arneson finally said. “You want to run that by me again?”

Gottfried told him the whole sordid story. How the monkey’s paw found him in the park, then followed him here. How he wished to be left alone, and the paw had seemed to listen. How Rimshot and Dixon Chain used to be people, until they came in and wished to ‘fuck him with everything he’s got’ and ‘have absolute control of his libido’, respectively.

“And then you showed up and saved me from my folly,” Gottfried concluded.

“Okay,” Arneson said, “but Rimshots and Dixon Chains have been around for years now. Decades, even. I’ve used quite a few myself.”

“No, see, the monkey’s paw rewrites reality to make it so it was never used,” Gottfried explained. “It created the brands Rimshot and Dixon Chain in response to the original Rimshot and Dixon Chains wishing themselves into sex toys, and deciding to let them keep a spark of elan vital. I’m fairly certain that’s where Jacques Strapps came from too, but that wasn’t me.”

“Sounds fantastical,” Arneson said.

“So do biorganic materials,” Gottfried countered.

“Point,” Arneson conceded, and picked up the paw. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

“Arneson, no!” Gottfried cried. “I couldn’t let you do that! You’re one of our highest paying clients!”

Arneson smirked. “Daddy’s money, darling, and he’s a client too,” he said. “Besides, I’m tired of personhood. All I really want is to hang out with you, keep an eye on you, keep you safe from your own folly and focused on your task, whatever it may be. So, if you’ll let me?” He held out his hand, the one holding the paw by its pendant string, toward Gottfried, asking permission.

Gottfried bit his lip. Thought about it for a little while. “Green light,” he said. “Take good care of me, okay?”

“Always,” Arneson replied, taking the monkey’s paw back. “I wish I could hang out with Gottfried, keep an eye on him—keep him safe from his folly and focused on his task. Whatever it may be.”

The ring finger of the monkey’s paw curled over this time, and Arneson smiled and put the paw on the endtable by the door, right where he had found it.

“So,” he said, “let’s see how far this goes.”

“Green light, Arney, green light,” Gottfried said.

The two embraced, and Arneson’s transformation began, his body and limbs thinned into biorganic leather straps—or Strapps, as they are known—and his hands and feet shrank and hardened into metal rings, and then more Strapps grew out of his body, some with rings, most without. The mess of Strapps wrapped around Gottfried, and the Strapps without rings all grabbed hold of one, lacing together into a complicated pattern over his chest, down his torso and around his groin. The rings settled into place, one at the back of each shoulder, one at the side of each hip, one over each nipple, one around his cock—too loose to be a proper cockring—and one over his ass cleft—right where his anus was hiding.

“Put the Dixon Chain and the Rimshot into place,” Arneson said, his head just starting to transform into another Strapp. “I’ll keep them in line from now on, don’t worry.”

“You’re the boss,” Gottfried said, and slid the Rimshot back in his ass and the Dixon Chain back on his dick. Arneson grabbed hold of them with the nearest rings, and the biorganic metal fused together, forever bonding the sex toys to the harness that Arneson was becoming. Immediately, the toys calmed down, their will commanded by that of Arneson, but still ready to edge the fuck out of their owner.

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Gottfried moaned. “Just a light edge to keep me focussed, that’s all I ever needed.”

Arneson smiled as his lips hardened into the ring for the Strapp that was his head, and then the Strapp wrapped around Gottfried’s neck and threaded through the upper harness, becoming a collar with the ring settling at the hollow of his neck.

The last thing to change was Arneson’s dick, growing longer and separating into chain links, the glans link opening into a clip that fit perfectly in the neck ring, the balls becoming a short, wide Strapp with padding that was perfect for handling, and the whole thing falling off into a chain leash.

And just like that, the Arneson Strapp joined its brother Jacques on its father’s production lines. The perfect product to keep your subs in line, and your subs’ toys in line as well.

Gottfried got up and walked to the mirror in the closet to admire his latest acquisition. “God, Arney, you’re beautiful,” he said. “I’m gonna miss your scintillating conversation, but I can’t say I mind. And I’m definitely never taking you off. Something’s missing though…”

There was a knock at the door. “Free Dicks, you in there? I know you’re in today.”

Gottfried smiled, a wicked grin to end all wicked grins. “Just a minute, Suckers,” he called. “I had to take a break, but I’m fine now, and ready for more.” He opened the door, flipped the sign to ‘in’, and pulled Suckers into the room with him. “Boy am I glad to see you.”

“You and me both, Free Dicks,” Suckers said. “I’ve been fantasizing about those nipples all day!”

“Oh?” Gottfried said. “How so?”

“Well for one thing,” Suckers said, reaching out to tweak both nipples at once, “I wish I never had to let go of these beauties.”

Gottfired moaned in pleasure, Suckers always knew just how to press his cum buttons. “You and me both, Suckers. You and me both. What if I told you I could make that dream a reality?”

“Then I would love you forever,” Suckers said.

“Look on the endtable,” Gottfried replied, pointing at the monkey’s paw.

Suckers, not letting go of his fuck mate’s nipples in the slightest, turned to see a weird little mummified hand, dark and wrinkly and covered with hair. “What the—?” he said. “A monkey’s paw? You’re joshing me right?”

“Afraid not, sir,” Gottfried said. “All you gotta do is pick it up and make a wish.”

“Fuck, no way,” Suckers said. “But hey, what’s the harm?” He let go of one of Gottfried’s nipples and picked up the paw, then told it, “I wish I never had to let go of Free Dick’s fabulous nipples.”

The pointer finger of the monkey’s paw curled, and Suckers dropped it back onto the end table in surprise. When he turned to face Gottfried, he was already grinning, and latched back onto his nipple with a vice like grip. “Oh, this is going to be fun!”

“Ooh, yes,” Gottfried said, already regretting it. Suckers may be good with cum buttons, but he had his own ideas of where the line between pleasure and pain actually lay. It’s a good thing he already had Arneson in place.

Suckers immediately started dwindling, his body reducing to a fine chain with remarkable speed as his hands became the suction cups themselves. They formed into thin, biorganic metal plates, pulling and sucking at Gottfried’s nipples and embossed with little bumps to nip at them, and immediately fused with the rings of the Arneson Strapp already in place there. Like the Dixon Chain and the Rimshot before them, the Suckers’ will was commanded by that of the Arneson Strapp, their appetite held at bay to ensure a pleasant, focus-enhancing edge, not a rampant, focus-destroying rut.

Gottfried sighed as the chain of the Suckers twined around the chest strap of the Arneson Strapp. It didn’t fuse in the same way as the metal did, but it did tuck away, preventing it from being an extra handle to pull on. He walked over to the endtable with the monkey’s paw on it, and picked it back up.

“We make a great team,” he told it, “and I love the toys you made for me, but I’m running out of pleasure points, so I think it’s time I made that wish. I wish that focus dysregulation was a recognized disability independent of ADHD, and thus protected and accommodated by the law.”

The middle finger finally curled over, and life started to settle into a new normal. Memories flooded in, memories of getting his diagnosis, of speaking with the registrar, of getting his accommodations, the Arneson Strapp and the Dixon Chain, and later buying his Rimshot and Suckers and installing them in, of Daddy Bondo coming into the room.

Wait…

“Daddy Bondo, what brings you by, sir?” Gottfried asked, actually meek. The club owner, Daddy Bondo, was notorious for being… let’s go with ‘cavalier’ with the idea of consent. Gottfried was convinced that he was at least half the reason BDSM could only be practiced indoors—the red light/green light system was fairly well standardized, but Daddy Bondo was, quite frankly, a bad dom who often ignored it, especially with his employees.

None of which bode well for why he was in the room right now. Case in point: “It’s come to my attention that you’ve been in this room for over an hour, and have served no clients,” Daddy Bondo said.

“My sign’s set to ‘in’!” Gottfried protested. “You saw it! It’s not my fault none of my regulars are in today! At least not this early.”

“Uh huh,” Daddy Bondo said. “You know the rules, Free Dicks. If you’ve been unused for an hour, you go to the common room and pick someone up. And what is that disgusting thing in your hand?”

“It’s a monkey’s paw, sir,” Gottfried replied, holding it up. “It grants wishes.”

“Really now?” Daddy Bondo said, snatching the paw from Gottfried. “I’ll take that, and you’re following me to the common room, you little brat. I don’t care if you have ‘tests to study for’ or whatever excuse you use to get out of work.”

“Sir!” Gottfried said. “Focus dysregulation is a real disability, and mine is managed by sexual arousal! We’ve been over this!”

“We’ve also been over the fact that I don’t care,” Daddy Bondo countered, grabbing hold of the chain that came with Arneson. Fortunately, Arneson complied with its owner’s desires and immediately unclipped, falling limp to the ground. Daddy Bondo growled. “God, I wish I could just tie you down and make you work!”

Gottfried gasped, and his face drained of color.

“What is it now?” Daddy Bondo said.

“The monkey’s paw is real, sir,” Gottfried said, voice strained with worry. “If you don’t believe me, look at its fingers.”

Daddy Bondo did so, pulling the paw up to his eye level, and noticed the pointer finger was curled down. He humphed, and said, “Good, maybe now I can actually keep you in line.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, sir,” Gottfried continued, edging around to the doorway.

“Oh?” Daddy Bondo said, stepping forward menacingly. “And how does it work?” Suddenly, his knee gave out, his leg beginning to transform into a biorganic Strapp.

Gottfried took the opportunity to turn tail and flee into the hallway.

“Get back here!” the club daddy yelled, reaching out and literally throwing his hands to catch Gottfried before he slipped away. His forearm wrapped around Gottfried as it transformed into another Strapp. “Huh, that’s new,” Daddy Bondo said. “Can’t say I disapprove.” He threw his other arm, wrapping it around Gottfried too, and pulled himself after the wayward sub to wrap around the rest of him.

“Jesus fuck, this is a nightmare,” Gottfried said. “Red light, sir, red light! You know I don’t like getting tied up! At least not if I don’t bring it up!”

“And you know I don’t care,” Daddy Bondo replied. “Now settle down before I-iiii…” At this point, the rapidly diminishing Daddy Bondo made contact with the Arneson Strapp and fell under its command. Daddy Bondo’s head transformed quickly after that, and then the rest of him molded into Strapps and was incorporated into the Arneson. They writhed and wrapped around Gottfried’s limbs, but didn’t bind them—the windings were both too loose and wrapped each limb separately.

Gottfried sighed in relief, and stood up to brush himself off. “Thank you, Arney,” Gottfried said. “I’m glad you were able to take control of him. But now the question is who’s in charge of the club? And where’s the paw?” He looked around, but was interrupted by Daddy Bigman, a giant of a man almost thirteen feet tall, but surprisingly gentle in bed.

“Free Dicks, are you all right?” the club owner asked. “You had a bit of a tumble there.”

“I…” Gottfried started, trailed off, shook his head and started over. “Sorry, sir, I guess I was a bit distracted. My Bondo Strapp has a bit of a mind of its own sometimes, and decided to trip me up. I’m honestly not sure why I got it.”

“Ah, okay,” Daddy Bigman said. “Why don’t you go home? We can’t have it getting in the way of safety, sanity or consent.”

“Yeah, probably for the best,” Gottfried conceded. “I haven’t been able to get much done in the past hour anyway, studywise or workwise. See you tomorrow, sir.”

“Right back atcha, Free Dicks,” Daddy Bigman said. “And tell Andy to check his texts, unless he wants me to beat down his door again.”

“No promises, sir,” Gottfried said, a bratty grin on his face. “I love watching you beat down doors.”

Daddy Bigman sighed and rolled his eyes fondly, but let it pass without comment.

Soon enough, Gottfried was packed back up and heading to his dorm, none the worse for wear and perfectly content with his new toys and the new life that came with them.

And unbeknownst to everyone, the monkey’s paw stretched out, stood up, and scurried off to find more realities to ravel.

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The price by Mikeytron Anthony’s husband, Tom, has just turned 40, and is in despair that his body will never become what he wants it to be. Anthony feels powerless to help, until a mysterious entity gives him the opportunity to rewrite Tom’s past– but there is always a price. A dark but hopefully redemptive story about desperation, time travel, and love. 5 parts 19k words Added May 2022 Updated 18 Jun 2022 17k views 5.0 stars (35 votes) No comments yet •Cock Growth•Other Mental Changes•Hyper Muscle•Immobility•Muscle Growth•Gradual Change•Retcon•Time Travel•Supernatural•Complete •M/M

Teacher’s testimony by Six Pecs A teacher testifies to having been part of the inner circle surrounding a young man with godlike powers. 6 parts 23k words Added Aug 2024 Updated 14 Sep 2024 9,875 views 5.0 stars (22 votes) No comments yet •Cock Growth•Cock Shrinking•Huge Balls•Ball Growth•Huge Cock•Hyper Cock•Hyper Cum•Extra digits•Multi-abs•Multicock•Multiarm•Multilimb•Replication•Other Mental Changes•Straight to Gay•Hyper Strength•Muscle Breast•Muscle Growth•Muscle/Strength•Man Scent•Hyper Anus•Feeding•Foot Growth•Gradual Change•Transformation•Voice Deepening•Getting Taller•Giants•Plausible Size Difference•Size Decrease•Size Increase•Age Progression•Age Regression•Human to Inanimate•Hair Growth/Getting Hairy•Mouthcock•Age Difference•Incest•Father/Son•Selfcest•Nonconsensual change•Absorption•Merging•Shared Body•Possession•Mind Control•Shapeshifting •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

You and I: The greatest fuck in the world by Also Known As Has the world-altering protagonist, the self-proclaimed most perfect and most powerful man in the world, met his match? 3 parts 17k words Added Apr 2019 Updated 1 Jun 2019 13k views 4.9 stars (12 votes) No comments yet •Cock Growth•Huge Cock•Other Mental Changes•Muscle Growth•Muscle/Strength•Suggestion •M/M

Next level love by Eclipse Dylan gets an app that claims to bring him closer to his soulmate, but he’s not prepared for the consequences. 7,202 words Added Aug 2020 12k views 4.8 stars (24 votes) No comments yet •Cock Growth•Huge Cock•Hyper Cum•Other Mental Changes•Straight to Gay•Muscle Growth•Muscle/Strength•Size Increase•App•Retcon •M/M