#straight cock

[pnp4str8jock]

Straight bud is heading over to party and play

[trying-harder-then-u]

Johnny's Daddy

Johnny has been my friend since forever, and while we grew apart in High school, we would always make sure to comfort each other through all the tough times. He helped me with my breakup, and I helped him when he lost his job.

Johnny was always on the smaller side; Puberty Hit never really got to him, and while he never got the muscles he wanted, he eventually became quite happy with his body and my numerous numerous offers to wing man him and help him get a girl were always turned down.

Earlier today, my phone pinged while I was at work. Johnny had messaged me:

"Hey man, could you come to my place after work?"

"Sure? What do you need?"

"I'll explain when you get here."

Me and Johnny had always been open and clear without ever really needing to talk outside of texts, so I thought this must be something big if he wanted to talk about it at his place, so after work finished up, I got in my car and drove to his apartment in the city. After a good 50 minutes of driving through the winding roads, I finally arrived.

As I opened the door, he came and hugged me. "How was the drive?" "Nothing special, just some traffic jams and that stuff," I responded. For the first few hours, we just hung out talking about life and playing games before I finally asked why he wanted me here: "Well, I wanted to tell you I was gay." he blushed as he said it, "Damn man, thanks for telling me; I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me, do you want to go to a gay bar or  something?"He shook his head at my question: "You don't understand; I've been trying to get a boyfriend for awhile now, but it never works out, and I wanted to ask you if...." "I'm sorry, man," I interjected. "I love you like a brother, but I don't feel the same way about you." "Okay, sorry, I hope we can still be friends," Both of us laughed awkwardly at the incident, but decided to hang out some more. At about 6, we were both getting hungry, so he ordered a pizza, and he got up to grab us a drink. I heard what sounded like pills rattling in the kitchen before he returned with some beers, caps removed. "Thanks, man," I said as he handed me one. Taking a sip, I thought it tasted funny, but I just shrugged it off as the pizzas had just arrived and i was starving.

As we ate and played video games, it became latter and latter, and the beers piled up, each tasting stranger, then the last. At some point, my mind started to became fuzzy. "Ugh, I don't feel good," i said. "You don't look good either. Maybe you should just sleep here for the  night."Johnny commented, Too tired to argue, I ended up on his couch and fell asleep quickly as he went back to the room. "You'll be fine; I bet you feel like a new man tomorrow morning," he called as he closed the door.

That night, as I shuddered in my sleep, my body began to change, moving around as my stature grew, stretching from 5 feet 8 to 6,2. My flab melted away as my skin tightened around new abs that began to push out one by one, and calves became strengthened along with arm muscles. My round face gained structure as a square jaw and clear skin gave my face a new, more attractive look. But it wasn't just my body changing; my dreams began to shift; thoughts that I used to have about women became directed towards Johnny; as I dreamed of dominating and using him, the apartments that we each had eventually became one, just as my place had his boyfriend cemented, and soon I was picturing him submitting to me every night. As these dreams peaked, I felt my dick pulse, lines of cum shooting out as my rock-hard cock lengthened, growing longer and longer inside my underwear from it's normal 4 inches to a monstrous 9, and my boxers turning to briefs as they were soaked in my semen. The transformation was over, and my new place in the world was confirmed.

The next morning, Johnny smirked as he walked in to be greeted by me staring at him in nothing but my briefs. "I have a job for you, boy; I need some services," I commanded, His dick jumped up, and his body shuddered as he moved towards me. All memories of my past life disappeared as he wrapped his lips around my dick; all that mattered was teaching my boyfriend his place.

[gojoest]

nanami kento tries so hard not to fuck you on your first date, it makes him feel like a terrible man. he’s not like this, usually. you just frustrate every single cell in him, sexually — he can’t believe this is happening to him, honestly.

it’s a pain, he acts cold and distant — he’s simply trying to hide his boner half of the time. he zones out while you speak — your lips are distracting, he can’t hear a single word you speak. he can only think of the many ways your lips would shape and shift when you moan and whimper his name the deeper he sinks his cock in you. also, can you fit all of him down your throat? oh, can you—

fuck…

his cock gets hard under the table, forcing a sense of panic in him while he ponders whether he’s visibly leaked and stained his slacks or not. terrified to look down, because he knows. he’s so fucked.

he needs to wait a bit before you leave the restaurant, to cool off a bit, calm down. but it only gets worse from there.

he drives you back home, but doesn’t leave the car to walk you to your doorstep. his cock is hard again, aching so bad it limits his movements. besides if he steps out and stands tall before you — you will see, this time you definitely will. he’s embarrassed. and on top of that, he feels like an ass, the lowest of the lowest, for treating you so poorly.

the entire car ride was torturous to him, courtesy of your scent so close to him in the passenger seat, along with the way you tucked your hands between your thighs every now and then — perhaps the awkward silence got you nervous. he wondered all the way to your house how you smelled and tasted, down there.

you think the whole date was a disaster, and that he’ll never call you again but little did you know, the first thing he did when he went back home was jerk off — not once, not twice, but three fucking times, thinking about you. furiously.

later, he texts you. you blink a few times in utter disbelief.

dinner tomorrow? i’ll cook

dinner — at his place, that is. he’ll change the bedsheets in the morning with freshly washed ones, because this time — he’ll fuck you.

[alluralater]

i can’t lie— there is a certain amount of euphoria that washes over me when i tell another girl to shut the fuck up and take my cock and she says yes yes yes and just keeps nodding like the prettiest dumb toy for me

[bugboybuck]

hear me out bobby injured - gerrard is brought back in as interim captain while bobby cant work which is why theyre reintroducing him at the award ceremony - buck hears more of tommys backstory along w hen and chim's and then makes gerrard's life a living hell

[himbofan4444]

Greg had been dying to become popular, but his slender frame and lack of friends heavily detracted from that. He joined the wrestling team as a last ditch effort to gain attention, but he was exceedingly poor at it. One day he went to the coach to ask for help.

“Coach, I think I’m going to quit the team.”

“Why? You have so much potential.”

“To be honest, I don’t care if I have potential. I just want to be popular.”

“Oh you do? Well wrestling should help with that.”

“Not if I never win.”

“What if I made it so you did win?”

“How would you do that?”

“Listen Greg. Nobody knows about this but I have a steroid to help you grow overnight. Would you be interested?”

“What? Overnight? Can I have it now?”

“Hold on tiger. I wanted to give it to you at the lock-in next weekend just to make sure you don’t die. You interested?”

“Of course, sir!”

“Great I’ll see you next weekend then.”

After a week of anticipation, Greg went to the school for the lock-in. He was quickly pulled aside by the coach.

“Here kid. You have to inject it in one of your buttcheeks. Now go.”

Greg shakily pushed the needle into his buttcheek and injected the mysterious liquid. There was no instant effect. He walked to sit in the coach’s office as instructed. The coach sat seated in front of Greg to observe the changes.

“When is it supposed to start working?”

“It takes about twenty minutes I believe.”

They sat in silence until Greg felt a pulsing throughout his body.

“Oh I think I can feel it working.”

He felt his legs and back stretch quickly, his previous 4’11” self left as a 6’4” giant.

“Woah. I’m huge!”

“Oh kid this is just the beginning.”

His face changed rapidly. His once youthful face was replaced with a much more masculine one. His jaw and chin grew massive, his chin gaining a noticeable dimple. His lips grew plump and juicy. His nose grew wider and more prominent. His eyes got smaller and changed to a crystal blue. His eyebrows got thicker and shifted to rest lower on his face. His hair became blonde and grew into a curly mullet. He grew a dense pornstache as well.

His body was the next target. His neck widened significantly and his adam’s apple grew much larger. His shoulders widened and grew more muscular. His traps swelled and started to swallow his neck. His biceps swelled along with his triceps and forearms. His hands grew to double the size and his fingers grew thick and meaty. His once nonexistent pecs changed into huge muscle tits. His nipples got thicker. His lats and back swelled, his whole silhouette gaining significant size. His stomach formed a six-pack. His thighs grew huge, perfect for wrapping around his opponents. They were so large he could not comfortably walk. His calves swelled. His feet changed into an absurd size 20. They were so big he would constantly trip over them. His butt grew fat and fuckable, so that they would jiggle when he walked. His penis grew massive. It expanded to a monstrous uncut 12 inches with huge balls.

“Oh fuck that feels good…”

Greg flinched at hearing his voice. It was comically deep as he was comically large.

“How am I supposed to pass as a middle schooler? I’m huge!”

“You are a middle schooler, but you’re not 12 anymore.”

Greg tried to understand what he was just told but then the mental changes hit him all at once. His once high intellect shrunk to almost nothing. He couldn’t focus on anything except for his dick. He is now coach’s son and star player. He couldn’t pass 7th grade even at 19 years old. He has an IQ of 60 now, too stupid to do anything except wrestle, jerk off, and get fucked by his dad. He grew thick body hair all over, mostly around his armpits, balls, and chest. He gained a strong musk so strong his dad started to gag. Greg, or Gavin now, is the most popular guy at school, even if everyone has to plug their noses when talking to him. Coach hands him his a large hoodie, sweatpants, and huge shoes.

“Go put this on.”

“K Dad.”

Gavin pulls the clothes over his thick muscles, his huge dick and ass accentuated due to the tight fabric. He stomps his foot, causing his thick ass to jiggle hypnotically.

“Dad… I’m hornyyyyyy… Please fuck meee…”

“Gavin you know I can’t right now. I’m on duty. Maybe you should go play with the other kids.”

Gavin smiles and waddles away back to the gym, stumbling over his giant feet. He paws at his monster cock and pulls at his ass. He lifts his buff arm and sticks his face into the dense forest of hair in his armpit. He collapses on the floor and starts to masturbate to his obscene odor. He quickly realizes it’s impossible to smell his pits and wrap both of his hands around his huge cock, making him frustrated. He awkwardly stands up and forces his dick into the wall. He aggressively thrusts into the wall while lapping up the sweat accumulating in his hairy pits. He loudly pants and moans as he approaches climax. He releases copious amounts of cum, not even emptying his huge balls. He howls in pleasure as he falls back onto his fat jiggly ass. He passes out, his cock still sticking straight up.

[haleswallows]

Uwu what's this? A totally random smutty one-shot that I wrote instead of working on my multiple WIPs?

Enjoy!

Teaser:

Something boils under Jason's skin. He feels half-mad with it. Restless and on edge, he loops around Crime Alley for the upteenth time, head on a swivel. Sticky summer night air whips past as he grapnels but it does nothing to soothe him. Jason only feels more feverish in his wild hunt.

He doesn't even know what he's hunting for.

All Jason knows is something feels wrong. Like the bad feeling before an accident, or an Arkham Asylum breakout. That anxious feeling before Jason springs into action.

He drops into an alley, boots heavy and stands from the crouch. Then freezes.

The creature is… ethereal. That's the only word Jason can think of. Glowing softly, hair pure white and floating around its head. It appears male, lithe and muscled with a swimmer's build. And even though it floats, Jason can tell he has a good head and shoulders over it, maybe more if it puts its feet on the ground.

It whips around at the sound of his boots on the alleyway’s ground. And for a moment, Jason's pinned by its bright green eyes. Not Lazarus Water green, but close. Cleaner, brighter. And framed by white eyelashes. It tracks him closely as he approaches.

It’s otherworldly and beautiful, like a glimpse of the Milky Way. Jason is entranced, drawn in, like a moth to a flame.

Then it opens its mouth.

“Hi, hello! Woah, you are way bigger in person. Like way bigger. Impressive, hot and yet terrifying. Big fan, bee-tee-dubs.” There’s an echoing quality to its voice that sends a thrill through Jason. It tilts its head as he nears and gestures to itself. “Nice to meet you, I’m Phantom. Danny Phantom, he/him.”

[pnp4str8jock]

Another straight bud that used to come hang out and party with me . He would slam us and he would rape me bareback all night , making me cum just by fucking me

[trying-harder-then-u]

Philip wasn't used to all the stares he was getting from his workers; for god's sake, he was the CEO, and they should be paying respect to him, but instead all the builders to whom he paid the salary just stared in confusion and pity at the tall man in his suit guiding the investors around the construction site.

His black suit, thin build, and clean-shaven appearance drew a harsh contrast to the men that watched. The bored faces of the investors showed that they were just as interested in this as he was, so it was a respite when he managed to excuse himself to go to the bathroom.

Stumbling along, dirt and dust caking his boots, he finally ran into the manager of the property, a bulky man with a short fuse. "Where is the bathroom?" he inquired, only greeted by a judging glance as he stared down. "It's employee only; the public bathroom is a block away." Philip was shocked by the never-ending argument, but he made a mental note to find some recourse for the attitude. He picked his way through the clogged city blocks, finally coming to the public bathrooms.

As he walked into the graffiti-covered stall, he felt his disgust build as he saw a strange liquid covering not just the floor but the bathrooms and walls as well. and judging from the smell, he could tell where this liquid came from. Knowing that he didn't have time to waste, he quickly rolled up toilet paper and wiped down the seat of the toilet. After a few seconds, he went to chuck it when he stepped into a large puddle of cum, glaring at the gunk stuck on his heel. Using the wall to support him as he tried to scrape it off, he only managed to get it on his clothes before finally feeling more drip from the roof on top of his bald head.

Now thoroughly disgusted, he went to leave but found he couldn't; he seemed to be...

rooted to the spot? Phillip's whole body began to shiver as his eyes moved rapidly in his sockets. The shivering began to localize on his legs as a cracking sound filled the air. Did the door seem to grow bigger and bigger, or was he getting smaller? He remembered from the view that his height had gone from 6 feet 3 to 5 feet 6. His mind kept screaming as his body tingled, his thin arms tingled, and he began to thicken along with his legs, a small gut growing out.

His pale skin soon would change too as his skin darkened and tanned, matching that of his many workers. changed rapidly now, his once clean, shaven body growing hair all over and his slightly below-average "tool" shrinking a few inches. Finally able to leave, he felt his head fuzz as if his thoughts were being yelled at him through glass, but he did begin to panic when he didn't return to his investors but rather to the man. "Where have you been?" Phillip thought he was yelling; he couldn't hear anything, though. Looking down, his clothes also changed to a plain tee and some shorts; he truly looked just like a worker now.

The next 5 hours, his body went on autopilot, working harder than his old body ever had, but when the work day finally ended, he kept walking to a house he had never seen, climbing stairs after stairs before finally coming to a door that reeked of cum and sweat. Opening in, he saw a young Latino man, no pants, and busy playing some kind of video game. He somehow knew that this was the man whose cum had covered the bathroom that had caused all this.

glancing over the man—his boyfriend? No, that can't be. He was married, and his thoughts were getting harder. Mmm, Phillipe could see the bulge in the other man's underwear, and the other man obviously could see Phillipe's eyes. "Why don't you come help Daddy out, baby?" excitedly he moved forward and began stripping his BF. "That's it, ik you liked the stuff you found in the bathroom you slut, come get some from the source" as he greedily sucked away his memories. Natural, his Spanish accent? attractive to the ladies, not like he needs it with his boyfriend around. His memories shifted fully, and Philip was gone. He was Philip, a Mexican immigrant working hard so his hot boyfriend could play games. His life was difficult with working and then doing all the chores, but at least he got some good dick. and not a person would miss who he was...

[fafnir19]

Interns should (not) act like a dick

Ben clenched his jaw as he entered the bustling office, avoiding Robert's icy stare. He despised his internship under Robert's wing, enduring the daily grind of tedious tasks and snide remarks. But today, the weight of a troubling discovery left his stomach churning. "Morning, Ben," Robert's voice sliced through the air, dripping with condescension.

"Morning," Ben muttered, keeping his gaze fixed on his computer. He had to focus on his plan; there was too much at stake. As the day wore on, Ben carefully gathered irrefutable evidence of Robert’s embezzlement. He witnessed Robert covertly funneling company funds into his pet hush-hush science project. Ben’s fingers trembled as he composed an email to the company's board, attaching compelling proof of Robert’s misdeeds. Before the clock struck 5 p.m., Ben slipped out of the office, heart pounding with apprehension and determination.

He braved the biting wind outside, hastening to the safety of his home. But the next morning, a foreboding air settled over the office as Ben noticed hushed conversations and furtive glances directed at him. "Robert," Ben ventured when their paths crossed in the break room, "have you heard anything unusual lately?" Robert flashed a tight-lipped smile. "Why? Got something to tell me, intern?" Ben narrowed his eyes, but he bit back the retort that poised on his tongue. He had to be patient, biding his time until the board's response arrived. Days turned into weeks as Ben labored under the weight of his secret, his nerves unraveling with each passing hour. But then, salvation arrived in the form of an urgent summons from the board. His heart raced as he was ushered into a somber meeting room. "We've reviewed the evidence you provided, Ben," the CEO began, his expression grave. "I'm afraid we can't take action against Robert due to his indispensable contributions to our recent breakthrough." Ben's breath caught in his throat, disbelief coursing through his veins. "But—" "It's over, Ben, there's nothing more we can do," the CEO pronounced, finality lacing his words. Defeated, Ben trudged back to his cubicle, grappling with the futility of his efforts. He flinched at the cruel twist of fate that allowed Robert to evade justice, his frustration boiling over. "Good afternoon, Ben," Robert's smug drawl invaded the air, and Ben's fists clenched at his sides. "You've won, Robert," Ben seethed, his voice edged with desperation. "But you won't get away with this forever." Robert's laughter reverberated through the office, a chilling sound that made Ben's blood run cold. "Is that so?" Robert's eyes gleamed with malice. "Maybe it's time I put my latest experiment to good use." Before Ben could comprehend the meaning behind Robert's words, a blinding light enveloped him, accompanied by a cacophony of crackling energy. When the brilliance dissipated, the once-human Ben was gone, replaced by an inanimate object that dangled grotesquely between Robert's legs. "Whwhat have you done to me?" Ben's voice echoed in terror in Robert’s mind. "What a fitting punishment," Robert sneered. "You've acted like a dick, Ben, and now, that's all you'll ever be." Ben's screams of anguish were muffled by the confines of his new existence, his consciousness forever entwined with Robert's depravity. Robert sauntered out of the office, leaving behind the shattered remnants of Ben's life and a chilling reminder of the insidious power he wielded.

Ben refused to accept his fate as Robert's penis, trapped and devoid of agency. "This can't be happening," he muttered, desperation lacing his mind. HIs pleas only amused Robert further as he leaned back on his leather couch, a wicked grin etching into his face. "Oh, Ben, you have no idea how much fun we're going to have together," he taunted, swirling his glass of whiskey with an elegant flick of his wrist. "I promise you, this will be an experience you won't forget, even if you try." The mere thought of being used and erect against Ben’s will made his blood boil: "I won't let you use me like some plaything!" he spat trembling with defiance in Robert’s mind. "I am not your puppet, Robert!" Robert's eyes narrowed, his face now void of mirth. "You will be damned if you think you can defy me," he sneered, a dark edge lacing his tone. "You are mine now, Ben. And whether you like it or not, you will serve your purpose."

Fear and determination mingled within Ben as he refused to succumb to Robert’s dominance. But then, that devious smile crept back onto Robert’s face, and Ben felt his resolve waver. Robert felt victory was close at hand. It was then that Ben heard the unmistakable sounds of a pornographic video playing on the massive television screen before them. Moans, groans, and the rhythmic thumping gradually filled the room. Against Ben’s will, he felt arousal prickling within him. It crawled up his spine, coiling around every nerve ending until he could no longer ignore the pleasure it evoked. Silence fell upon them as he succumbed to the inescapable cravings. He managed to snarl, "What have you done to me?"

Robert chuckled darkly, his eyes glinting with twisted satisfaction. "You are becoming what I've always desired, Ben," he whispered knowingly. "You crave this, the intense pleasure that courses through your veins. You are mine, completely."

The sensations intensified - an overwhelming surge of desire propelled Ben to full erection, his body betraying him once again. His mind, filled with a burning mix of shame and pleasure, was consumed by the intensity of his own lust. And then, as if an invisible hand had gripped him tightly, he climaxed, releasing streams of semen into the confines of his new form.

Robert's triumphant laughter, echoing through the loft, as Ben’s mind swirled with confusion, shame, and an undeniable sense of loss. He was trapped, a prisoner to his own biology.

One day ss Robert and the stunning woman sat across from each other at a candlelit table, Ben brimmed with dark determination. Tonight, he would sabotage Robert's date and make him appear impotent. He contemplated his plan, biding his time as the couple engaged in light conversation and flirtatious banter. As their chemistry grew, so did Ben's anticipation. He was determined not to get hard, to prevent the expected intimacy between the two.

At first, their interactions were innocent - sweet kisses and tender touches. Ben, feeling the rise of Robert's arousal, remained unyielding. But then, everything changed. The beautiful woman's hand glided up Robert's thigh, her fingers brushing against his innermost flesh. As her touch reached its destination, Ben sensed Robert's desire reaching its boiling point. A shiver cascaded through Ben's elongated form, his resistance faltering against the growing storm of arousal.

Inexorably, Robert's body responded to the woman's touch. His member stiffened, eagerly awaiting its invitation into the depths of her warmth. Ben, against his desperate will, found himself succumbing to a primal sensation, an overwhelming lust that clouded his senses. His singular focus became clear - to allow Robert's essence to surge through him and into the woman.

The moment arrived, the woman's yearning gaze locked onto Robert's. Without a hesitation, she guided him into her waiting embrace. As their connection deepened, Ben found himself consumed by a fiery frenzy. The sensations coursing through him were unlike anything he had ever known, a mixture of pleasure and despair that twisted within him.

His thoughts became a maelstrom of conflicting desires - his longing to reclaim his former self and the intense craving to submit to this newfound sensation. The dichotomy of pain and pleasure pushed him to the edge, as he braced himself for the inevitable climax. Time seemed to stand still as the woman and Robert melded into one, their bodies moving in a passionate rhythm. Ben, amidst the chaos of his own existence, felt the crescendo of ecstasy approach. With one final surge, Robert's seed exploded within Ben, racing through every inch of his transformed body. For a fleeting moment, he shared in the pleasure that washed over Robert's face. But as the wave of satisfaction ebbed away, the crushing weight of his fate crashed upon him once again. The realization that he was forever trapped in this form, destined to be nothing more than a vessel for another's pleasure, weighed heavily on his soul.

As the night wore on, Robert and the woman retreated into the depths of their passion. Ben's resolve wavered, his conscious mind drowned in the sea of sensation. In the end, all that remained was the agonizing anticipation of the next encounter, the next release of pleasure.

As the morning light filtered through the curtained windows of Robert's loft, he slowly stirred from his slumber, a feeling of anticipation coursing through his veins. He stretched, the soft sheets of his king-sized bed sliding down his chiseled physique. And then, to his surprise, he felt it—the unmistakable presence of a morning arousal.

His eyes widened with delight as he glanced down at the source of this newfound pleasure. "Oh, Ben," Robert murmured, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and amusement. "Looks like you're quite enthusiastic this morning." Ben, now nothing more than a mere extension of Robert's manhood, responded with an eager twitch. As the morning light danced upon his glistening shaft, he greeted his owner, standing tall and proud as though flaunting his newfound virility. "B-ben. I must say, you're doing a remarkable job," Robert said, his voice tinged with sincere appreciation. "Having such an exceptional member like you makes my mornings all the more delightful." A surge of satisfaction coursed through Ben's elongated form, a warm glow illuminating the depths of his being. Despite the strangeness of his situation, he couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment in bringing pleasure to his newfound master. He beckoned Robert closer with an alluring pulse, whispering a silent plea for release, aching to bring Robert to the pinnacle of ecstasy. Robert’s hand wrapped around Ben's taut flesh, stroking him with practiced precision, evoking a symphony of whispered moans and contented sighs. "Ah, Ben, you truly are a masterpiece," Robert murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction. "So responsive, so eager to please. You've truly surpassed all my wildest expectations." Ben quivered beneath Robert's skillful touch, his elongated form throbbing with delight. He embraced his role as Robert's prime pleasure provider, delighting in the sensations that coursed through both their bodies, their souls intimately intertwined. As the tension built, pleasure unfurled like delicate tendrils intertwining between them. Ben trembled on the precipice, a wellspring of desire coursing through his veins. And then, with a final, explosive burst, he unleashed torrents of desire, a testament to his commitment to satisfying his master's needs. Robert cried out in ecstasy, an elated cry that filled their sanctum of pleasure. His grip tightened around Ben, his body wracked with the joys of fulfillment. Ben reveled in his newfound purpose, his body thrumming with a pulsating satisfaction. As the blissful haze began to dissipate, he basked in the afterglow of their shared intimacy, a moment suspended in time.

"Well done, Ben," Robert cooed amidst the fading echoes of their shared passion, his voice filled with affection and appreciation. "You truly are a remarkable masterpiece."

In the wake of their morning awakening, the loft was filled with a tranquil silence. Ben nestled against Robert's form, content in the knowledge that, even as a penis, he had found his place in the world.

As the days went by, Ben had begrudgingly accepted his role as Robert's penis. He performed his duties dutifully, greeting his owner every morning with a stiff salute. However, despite his transformation, Ben couldn't ignore the fact that he used to be a person named Ben—Robert could sense it too. Determined to assert his identity, Ben attempted to engage in conversation with Robert whenever the opportunity arose.

But Robert, refusing to acknowledge Ben's existence as anything other than a penis, ignored him. Ben's growing desire for release and pleasure eventually pushed him to his breaking point. "Please, Robert," Ben pleaded, his voice vibrating within the depths of his transformed flesh. "I need to be touched. I can't bear this any longer."

Robert sighed and looked down at his loyal servant. "Ben," he said sternly, "Penises have no names. If you wish to be pleasured, you must accept that you are now nothing but a penis. No longer a man."

Ben's longing for release outweighed his attachment to his old identity. He swallowed his pride and agreed, "Fine... I won't have a name anymore. Just... just pleasure me, Robert."

Robert's lips curled into a smug grin as he realized he had won. "Good boy," he praised, reaching his hand down to bring life to his obedient appendage. The touch sent shivers along Ben's entire length, teasing him with bouts of both pleasure and frustration. Slowly, skillfully, Robert's hand danced along the shaft, building up the intensity of the experience.

As the mounting pleasure surged through Ben's body, he felt a peculiar sensation growing within him. It wasn't just the impending climax but something different, something alien. And then, in a moment of pure ecstasy, it flooded out—Ben's name, his essence, burst forth with his climax, mixing with his own release. His mind clouded with pleasure, Ben realized that he had truly become just a penis, completely devoid of any memory of his former self. And to his surprise, the thought didn't bother him. In that moment, Robert's penis had forgotten that it had ever been anything else. All that mattered to Ben now was the pleasure he could bring to his owner, his sole reason for existing.

And so, the days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Ben, now fully embraced as Robert's penis, served his owner faithfully. His name was long forgotten, replaced by the pulsating pleasure he could provide. The loft became a haven for pleasure and indulgence, countless women passing through in search of ecstasy. And with every encounter, Ben's purpose was fulfilled. Pleasure flowed through him, mingling with his owner's satisfaction, and he reveled in his newfound purpose.

At long last, Ben had found his place in the world. Though he had lost his identity as Ben, he found solace and fulfillment as Robert's penis. And as he stood tall and proud, ready to serve yet another willing recipient of pleasure, he realized that sometimes, the most unexpected transformations can lead to a life of unimaginable pleasure and satisfaction.

Every morning, Robert woke up to find himself sporting a raging morning erection. He marveled at the sight, proud of the fact that his penis was now the epitome of virility. One particular morning, after taking a refreshing shower, Robert looked at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he spoke to his prized possession. "Good morning, my magnificent friend," he purred, his voice filled with a mixture of delight and anticipation. "I hope you're ready for another day of excitement and pleasure."

As if in response to his words, his penis twitched with enthusiasm, growing harder at the prospect of what lay ahead. Robert chuckled with satisfaction, relishing the control he had over his transformed companion. To him, Ben was no longer an individual with thoughts and emotions, but rather a tool designed to bring him immense pleasure.

Throughout the day, Robert's penis remained in a state of constant excitement. It throbbed with anticipation every time a beautiful woman walked by, or when a handsome young man caught his eye. Robert couldn't help but revel in the power he now possessed. He knew that his transformed companion had become a mere extension of his desires, a vessel through which he could experience unparalleled pleasure. As the day drew to a close, Robert returned to his luxurious loft, his thoughts consumed by the absolute control he had over his transformed companion. He stripped away his clothes, his eyes fixated on his magnificent organ. "You've done a wonderful job today," he murmured, his voice laced with praise. His penis pulsed with delight, its veins throbbing with satisfaction. It was eager to please its owner, always craving more of Robert's touch. With every caress, every embrace, it brought Robert immeasurable pleasure. Satisfied with their day's work, Robert allowed himself to succumb to the blissful pleasure that his transformed companion could provide. As his hand wrapped around his throbbing member, he closed his eyes, drowning in the ecstasy that only Ben, now completely devoted to his pleasure, could provide.

The day ended with Robert's satisfied moans filling the air, the pleasure coursing through his veins as his transformed companion fulfilled its purpose.

Robert stood in his luxurious loft, ready to make the next step in his secret experiment. It was the task to transforming his penis back into a human. He had to give it a try. A flicker of light washed over his body and in an instant, his penis transformed back into a human form. But to Robert's surprise, it wasn't Ben that stood before him. Instead, a stunning young man, as if conjured from a wet dream, graced his presence. The stranger possessed chiseled facial features, with high cheekbones that accentuated his flawlessly smooth complexion. Not a single strand of body hair marred his sculpted physique, which boasted athletic muscles without an ounce of fat. Robert couldn't take his eyes off this dreamlike figure, with piercing blue eyes and short, tousled blonde hair that completed his ethereal appearance.

Expecting Ben to recognize him, Robert spoke his name with anticipation. "Ben, how are you?" To his surprise, the young man stared back with confusion, questioning his identity. Robert asked for his name, but the youth replied blankly that he had no name. Perplexed, Robert decided to bestow upon him the name Beau. It seemed fitting for this enigmatic creation. Robert pondered what his new companion might desire after his time spent as a penis. He believed that Ben must have missed certain experiences that were impossible in that state. Eager to see what Beau's desires were, Robert asked him what he would like to do now. Without hesitation, Beau replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes, that he wished to be touched by Robert, to bring him pleasure. A tinge of excitement coursed through Robert as he realized the potential lying before him. With a newfound purpose, Beau stood there, poised to indulge in the pleasures he was created for. The transformation had not brought back his memories, but Beau was eager to explore his new role. And Robert was more than ready to find out just how good Beau could make him feel.

Robert stood in the sleek modern office, a triumphant smile on his face. Beau, his newly transformed companion, stood beside him, looking strikingly handsome in his youthful appearance. He wore a crisp suit that fit him perfectly, accentuating his chiseled physique.

 Robert introduced Beau to the CEO, proudly stating that Beau used to be Ben, but their experiment had been a success. Beau was now the perfect, loyal, and submissive intern. The CEO looked at Beau, a mixture of surprise and curiosity evident in his eyes. "Is this true, Robert? This young man used to be Ben?" Robert nodded, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Yes, CEO, you wouldn't believe it, but the transformation was incredible. Beau here used to be a bit of a handful, but now, he's just the obedient intern I've always wanted." Beau, still coming to terms with his new existence, stood up straighter and tried to hide his lack of knowledge about his previous life as Ben. "Yes, CEO, I'm Beau now. I'm ready to do whatever it takes to succeed, just like Robert." The CEO chuckled, clearly amused and intrigued by the situation. "Well, Robert, I have to say, your methods may be unorthodox, but if it yields such remarkable results, who am I to argue? Welcome aboard, Beau. I trust Robert will introduce you to the ins and outs of the business world." Robert smiled, his hand reaching out to brush against Beau's arm possessively. "Of course, CEO. Beau here is a quick learner. I have no doubt that he'll be an invaluable addition to the team."

As the CEO left the office, closing the door behind him, Robert turned to face Beau, a devious glint in his eyes. "Well, Beau, now that you're my perfect intern, I think it's time for you to show just how devoted you are to pleasing me."

Beau's heart raced in his chest as he looked into Robert's eyes, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. He knew what Robert was implying, and a part of him ached with desire to fulfill his new purpose. "Yes, Robert. I want to be just like you. I want to bring you pleasure and be completely devoted to your desires." Robert's smile widened, and he leaned closer to Beau, his voice a low, seductive whisper. "Good. I'm glad you're eager. Now, show me just how willing and skilled you can be."

Beau nodded, his heart pounding in anticipation. He dropped to his knees, his hands reaching for Robert's belt buckle. As Beau began to undo it and to suck Robert’s cock, the office became a sanctuary of desire, where pleasure and submission reigned supreme.

[uc1wa]

sous chef osamu who wants his waitress!reader real bad

[user211201]

The Interviews

--- Originally posted on 2021-02-07 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

“Can you guys believe we actually made it?” Elijah exclaimed proudly. Even as the tallest of the trio at 6’7, he had to arch his back to see the top of the skyscraper in front of him. Elijah had worked hard to get his degree in business, so the prospect in front of him made him feel like he was touching the finish line. He had applied for an interning position in the financial department, and the company had been so impressed with his application that they had set up an interview immediately.

“I will admit, it is pretty incredible,” Dylan added. He was in the middle of the three, having a little over average height at 5’11 and pretty good muscular tone. What really stood out about him though was his voice, for it was a powerful bass that could shake concrete walls and was completely recognizable at any event. He too had applied for an interning position in the financial department, creating a little friendly rivalry between the two.

“I’m still surprised we all made it.” Although Joe was almost a foot shorter than the giant Elijah at 5’7, he made up for his height in sheer body mass. Back in college, he had been the star wrestler of the college, giving him a body packed with pure strength and flesh. One wouldn’t be able to guess it, but Joe was also skilled in another area: accounting. He was so talented in fact that he had actually been scouted out by the company.

“I guess we should head in,” Elijah stated, making his way forward slowly. “If we actually want to work at the Carmichael Corporation, we’ll have to ace these interviews.”

“Oh yeah, like that’ll be hard,” Dylan jeered as he walked through a set of grand swinging doors. “My record is pretty well stacked. I think I have the best chance out of the three of us for this position.”

“Dude, I’m going for accounting.” Joe gave a rough eye roll, before walking off to notify the secretary of their presence.

“And like I have any competition,” Elijah scoffed as Dylan and himself took a seat on a nearby bench. “Once they see that my name was on the Dean’s List every semester, I’ll get in for sure.”

“You only got that because you were the captain of the basketball team,” Dylan mocked.

“Did not,” Elijah hurled back.

“Did too!” Dylan retorted.

“You understand that I actually worked for those grades, right?” Elijah felt himself get heated as his muscles grew tense.

“Oh you worked for them alright,” Dylan mumbled. “On your knees.”

“Excuse me, bro?!”

“You heard what I said, coc-”

“Gentlemen!”

A sharply dressed male was staring down at the two bickering companions. The man was furiously tapping a pen against his clipboard, obviously irritated. Standing tall in front of the two, he was wrapped up in a gray 3-piece suit with a checkered tie that fit well against his sculpted body. His face showed that although he acted superior, he had to be a similar age to the two young men cowering below him.

“My name is Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV, and I am one of the Accounting Managers here at the Carmichael Corporation,” he began pompously, effortlessly taking control of the situation. “If you want to work here at the Carmichael Corporation, the first concept you must learn is respect and decency to and in the workplace.”

“Sorry,” Dylan and Elijah replied in unison, deeply embarrassed and annoyed by the stuck-up prick.

“Now, I assume I will be performing one of your interviews today,” Yale took a moment to look at his clipboard. “Is one of you Joseph Koroll?”

“That’s me.” Joe appeared from behind Yale, surprising the other man a little bit. After checking in, Joe had quickly run to the bathroom to wash his face, finding he had accidentally missed a few hairs when he had shaved this morning. Not noticeable, just a little itchy.

“Exemplary,” Yale responded, causing Joe to give the other two looks that said What’s with this guy?

“Let us make our way to a correspondent room, we have a lot to cover in little time.” Before Joe could comprehend what Yale had said, the other man was already walking towards an elevator. Joe quickly scurried along, waving to his pals before he was lifted up.

“How do you think he’ll do?” Dylan pondered.

“Better than the two of us so far,” Elijah pouted.

— —

“Joseph Koroll.”

“Yes?”

Yale sat straight at his desk, constantly giving off an ill-tempered glare as he peered back and forth between Joe and Joe’s resumé. What made it even more intense was that Yale’s eyes had an oddly captivating color to them. The two sat in a small conference room on the 15th floor overlooking a part of the city below. Joe didn’t feel that nervous–he actually felt quite confident–but the giant yellow chair he sat in made him seem much smaller than he actually was. Even for his muscular figure, he barely filled half the seat, and his head did not make it anywhere near the top. Not only that, but the chair was placed in the center of the room, giving him more attention than he needed.

“I despise that I must admit it,” Yale sighed. “but your experience and credentials are rather splendid.”

“Thank you?” Joe replied back, a little confused.

“If you want to be a part of the Carmichael Corporation however, there are some aspects that must be changed or enhanced.”

“I understand.”

“The Carmichael Corporation is not some urban start-up with jeans and herbal teas. This is a very demanding industry, one that expects all employees to be obedient and loyal.”

“Of course,” Joe nodded along. “That would make sense.”

“I do not know or care what went on at your last position, but if you want to succeed in this company, it is imperative that orders from a superior be followed. Would you be okay with this level of obedience?”

“Yes sir.” Joe slyly added in the title, sensing he had to accept a power shift.

“That is more appropriate,” Yale smiled. “Now, let us first address the things that need to be changed to be hired. Your attire is the most noticeable facet, as it is unsightly to say in the kindest of terms.”

“Unsightly?” Joe was surprised, finding his red sweater and black slacks quite refined before making eye contact with Yale.

“And that is the kindest of words,” Yale snickered back. “If you want to succeed, you will need to learn how to dress like a man. Let me read you a small excerpt from the company handbook.”

Yale stuck a hand into his bag and pulled out the largest book Joe had ever seen. It had to be at least 1000 pages, yet Yale had no trouble finding the exact description he was looking for.

“Blazers are classic items that work for semi-formal occasions and casual office places. Even as a man transitions to daily suits, a blazer will always have a place at a garden party or fraternity alumni event. Ties and bowties are a delightful way to add color to an outfit. Business attire defaults to long ties, and more conservative workplaces require more conservative choices. Consider emulating the attire of your superiors.”

Yale continued, “Supports should be practical and supportive. Belts are fine for casual outings; however, braces are more desirable for suiting, both for support and style as it allows a more traditional and flattering cut. Similarly, undergarments should provide support and coverage. Briefs are the most appropriate underwear choice, as it provides support without being extraneous. It is also compatible with tennis and golf; sports you will be expected to participate in and the only sports you will be allowed to play.”

Yale paused and took a deep breath. Once he had finished gathering himself, he looked over at Joe and gleamed with satisfaction. “I believe it is secure to say that you have already anticipated these particular needs of the company. Am I assuming correctly?”

“Yes sir,” Joe quickly replied. He had made sure to dress in one of his casual outfits today, something comfortable yet reputable. Along with a navy blazer that had been hung on the door, Joe had paired his classic navy polka-dotted tie with a blue button-up and wool dress pants. Sheer socks silently encased his Size 11 feet inside expensive-looking Oxfords, while two bright, yellow suspenders and a hefty watch worked as the statement pieces. He’d also made sure to shave his beard into a beautiful stubble, something that really made him seem both masculine and well-kept. Joe had originally been concerned that the look was a little too casual, but the fact that his superior had noticed it brought a smile to his lips.

“Superb,” Yale acknowledged. “If you are hired here, you will be expected to meet a certain standard of fitness.”

Yale once again examined Joe before meeting eyes, causing Joe to respond with a smug look.

“Interpreting what I have seen and read, I suspect you will be engaging in a routine similar to the one when you were in varsity golf?”

“Very similar, indeed.” Joe resituated himself in the chair, sitting a little straighter to truly show off his 6’1 height. His tight clothing did an impeccable job showcasing his muscular build, which wasn’t as massive as a bodybuilder’s but definitely imposing. He kicked up one of his Size 14 feet onto his knee, knowing he could now get a little more comfortable.

“You will also need to adapt to our image of masculinity, Joe. This is something that has an adjusting definition for everyone here at the Carmichael Corporation. Do you understand what I am referring to?”

“Not exactly, sir.”

“To explain further,” Yale eyes had a piercing gleam to them. “the duty of a man is to understand that when lacking in some areas of presence, he must identify other ways to consume the devoid territory. Men are meant to take up a certain amount of space, no matter their stature. This does seem appropriate, correct?”

“Yes sir.” Joe completely interpreted what Yale was referring to. It was only natural that some men had larger presences than others, so it was Joe’s duty to match that same standard. Readjusting in his seat once more, Joe felt his wide, plump bottom jiggling about, consuming the entirety of the extra wide seat. He bagged his pants as he sat, causing the crotch of his pants to ride up and give him a distinct moose knuckle. The fluid movement accidentally made him hard, but Joe knew no one would be able to see his 4 inches.

“Now, I believe the next issue is your tone and speech.” Yale pulled out his handbook once more and flipped to another random page.

“Our manual refers to multiple accessible forms of dialogue, but you will be working with men of all ages from assets and banking within accounting. Therefore, it would be best if you learned how to speak slower and adapt your vocabulary to something better cultivated.”

“Why would that help me exactly?” Joe questioned.

Yale, once again annoyed by Joe’s indecency, glared directly at him before explaining. “It will deepen your voice and give you more presence, which will be extremely helpful in business. You will also be able to use a fuller, more masculine tone–much like my own. I expect that is what you desire?”

“Yes sir.” The words spilled out in nearly double the time they had before. Joe’s tongue felt heavy as he spoke as every syllable seemed to require extra effort to spit out.

“Finally, if you aspire to work at the Carmichael Corporation, it is imperative that you adjust your title.” Yale moved along calmly, not at all caring about Joe’s confusion. “Joe is a very informal name. Lazy and lackadaisical. It sets you up casually in a professional world, agree with me?”

“I guess I don’t know…” Joe muttered, his voice sluggish and insensitive.

“In business, you know how important it is to give the right impression. The men in these industries expect a certain standard of professionality, even in your title. And you must give yourself every possible advantage.”

“Yes, of course sir,” Joe monotoned.

“Professionally, I think you should introduce yourself as your full name, John Millard Koroll.”

“I apologize for the inconvenience, but that is not-”

“And where is your surname from?” Yale interrupted. “Is it German?”

“No, it is most certainly-”

“Make it German. It will give you a much more asserting presence. And I reckon a suffix would add some competency as well. From now on, we shall refer to each other by our full names to emulate what the atmosphere is like here at the Carmichael Corporation.”

Joe was still at a loss over the last few comments. He was starting to feel a little panicked over the thought of losing his own identity to the corporate world, but before he could think any further on the topic, Yale stepped in.

“That will work for you, will it not,” Yale stood up from his chair and extended a hand, making sure to share a mutual gaze with Joe. “John Millard Koehler III?”

“By all means, Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV.” John Millard’s thick, slow voice drawled out. He got out of his own seat and shook Yale’s hand in a firm motion.

“Splendid!” Yale replied. “Then I can confidently declare that you are precisely what the Carmichael Corporation is scouting for. John Millard Koehler III, you will be starting as early as next week.”

“That is just grand!” John Millard responded cordially. “It is truly an honor, my gratitude, Yale Stockton Rockefeller IV.”

“The honor is all mine, you will be an illustrious addition to our department.” Yale sat back down in his chair and ushered John Millard to do the same. “Before I dismiss you, let us discuss acquisitions and the baseline salary. Here at the Carmichael Corporation, we want to make sure that you can ‘be audit you can be’.”

The two chortled merrily at the accounting joke before getting back to business, knowing they had a prosperous future ahead.

— —

“It’s been almost an hour,” Elijah exhaled. “Shouldn’t Joe be done with his interview by now?” The two other men were still sitting on the same bench, waiting for anyone to come and greet them like Yale had appeared before. Countless businessmen had passed in front of them, but all of them seemed so eager to work that they didn’t recognize the recently-graduated college students.

“I don’t know,” Dylan replied honestly, twisting a lock of his curly mane within his fingers out of boredom. “I mean maybe this is the corporate world and everything takes a little longer than expected.” He then stretched to loosen up his joints, showcasing the body of a former running back for everyone to see.

“Yeah, but how many questions do they have to ask to see if Joe is a good fit or not?”

“Apparently a lot.” Dylan began swinging his legs back and forth like a child on a swing to entertain himself. The Size 13 canvas shoes went to and fro, hypnotizing him more than they should have. Elijah watched on too, somehow entertained by the small amount of movement.

“Ahem.”

The two young men quickly shot up off the bench, standing solid. In front of them was a brawny man between the pair’s heights. He looked to be somewhere around sixty, as displayed by his slicked-back salt-and-pepper hair, prominent jaw, and robust torso. His body was brilliantly exhibited in a multi-layered suit, one that displayed every shade from silver to slate.

“I assume the two of you are here for the hiring process, correct?”

The two men nodded their heads quickly.

“Very good.” The man made a quick glance at Dylan and motioned him to follow. Dylan did just that, giving a thumbs-up to Elijah before disappearing down a hall.

— —

“Dylan Pringle.”

“Yes… sir?”

Dylan watched a small smile creep onto the man’s lips after his little addition. There had been a few minutes of back and forth eye contact from Dylan’s resumé and Dylan himself, but he wasn’t feeling too apprehensive. Although the man seemed extremely uptight, Dylan knew there was nothing in his credentials that wouldn’t seem impressive. Plus, the man had already seemed to take a liking to Dylan, as he had been escorted to an expansive office that Dylan assumed had to be the man’s own. It was simply decorated with a few modern black-and-white pictures and two tables lined with retro leather chairs. There were also a few closets and coat racks holding different suits and other formal wear, probably owned by the man himself.

“I must inform you that the position you have applied for has already been filled.”

The sentence came as a shock to Dylan, causing him to twitch a little in his seat. Dylan was so perplexed that he had to examine the man’s eyes carefully to see if he was telling the truth. He was surprised to discover that they had an oddly charming hue.

“I would regard that as a godsend however, as you were not at all qualified for the position.”

“What do you mean?” Dylan’s bass tone became thundering. “I have everything the job requires… and more!”

“Surely you meant to say ‘Sorry Sir, is there another position open?’ as here I thought you were serious about working here at the Carmichael Corporation.”

Dylan was once again caught off-guard.

“Hmm, they told me you were more articulate.” The man made a disappointed grimace before moving on. “I was willing to offer you another position working under me rather than in the financial department as it seems you have no competence in the area. That is generous of me, is it not?”

“Yes, definitely sir.” Dylan was relieved that he still had a chance to work at the Carmichael Corporation, especially after applying for a job he never could have performed.

“Good.” The man walked over to a table and grabbed a rather large book. Dylan was able to catch a quick peek as the man passed by, noticing the pages were lined with questions and guides. Dylan hoped these weren’t all going to be used in the interview for the other position.

“There are a few things you will need to learn quickly if you expect to succeed in this business, do you understand?”

“Yes sir.” Dylan made sure to maintain eye contact to confirm his answer.

“Very good. First, we have a completely reasonable dress code here. I know you may not have expected to wear a suit every day, but it will be required. And by a suit, I expect a minimum of 3 layers in some shape or form.” Dylan cringed in his seat barely, knowing that his black turtleneck and jeans probably didn’t make the cut.

“Sir, are you-” Before Dylan could protest, the man pushed forward.

“I find a certain degree of conformity aids in office morale, is that not fair? I can tell by how you present yourself you also believe this to be true.”

“It is fair, sir.” Dylan agreed. He always made sure to wear multiple articles underneath his blazer, as it made him feel more polished. Even though he was forced to take off his tan blazer at the door, it had allowed him to expose the other garments on his body. These included matching tan pleated pants that graciously showed off his hefty pouch, a white button-up with matching white suspenders that strained heavily against his pecs, and a striped tie that shared the same charcoal color with his wing-tipped derbies. Readjusting his glasses, Dylan waited patiently for the man to continue.

“I believe it is also appropriate to have a strict haircut policy. Your hair is to be cut every two weeks, and I will refer you to my own barber. You will style it neatly and you will use whatever product I chose.”

“Sir, if I may interrupt.”

“No, you may not.” The man glared down on Dylan. “I expect to see comb lines so sharp that even from a mile away a man could tell you know how to use pomade. Understood?”

“Completely, sir.” Dylan felt like this task would be no problem, as he already maintained his hair strictly. Brushing a hand across his scalp, he was delighted to feel his sharp quiff still held stiffly in place with not a single hair sticking out. He also made sure to rub a hand across his jaw, feeling up the sculpted beard contemptuously.

“Now, you recognize that you would not be starting at the top, correct?”

“Yes sir.”

“Meaning that you would have a certain number of superiors, including myself, correct?”

“Yes sir.”

“So to clarify,” the man began, making sure that their eyes met so he could verify. “You would be an inferior male, underneath me and a plethora of other men.”

“Wait, that isn’t-” Dylan’s booming register was somehow once again cut off.

“You will need to present yourself to this position accordingly, but I believe it is fair to say that will not be an issue.”

“That is accurate, Sir,” Dylan replied reverently in a soft, creamy tenor. He understood where he was on the ladder, and how he’d have to act accordingly. Still sitting in his chair comfortably, the 5’7 man brought his legs closer together, allowing the sides of the Size 8 feet to touch. While doing so, Dylan felt his micropenis twitch eagerly inside his tight briefs, sending an excited reaction to the hole between his two jiggly, doughy buttocks.

“You will also be expected to attend to some other needs of mine,” Sir started. “Dry cleaning, note taking, errands, and the like.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“You will be loyal, you will be obedient, and you will be my dedicated servant.”

“Sir,” Dylan’s meek voice began. “What do you-”

“To work and succeed at the Carmichael Corporation,” Sir declared through fiery eyes. “it is imperative that orders from a superior be followed. Understood?”

“Yes Sir.” Dylan was willing to do just about anything that could give him an advantage in business; anything that would make his superiors pleased.

“So with that said,” Sir leaned back in his chair happily, dropping the handbook on the desk and crossing his arms across his chest. “If I were to ask you to, say, change your name, would you do that for me?”

“Yes Sir,” Dylan lied through his teeth. He was willing to do just about anything, but not that.

“Here at the Carmichael Corporation, we like to go by our full titles as they allude to more professional, defined statuses.”

“Absolutely, Sir.”

“Let’s first start with Dylan: just a gross, common name. You agree?”

Dylan didn’t, but the thought of a superior changing his name was suddenly tantalizing.

“Personally, I believe you would be more suited as a Dorrance. And for the surname, well,” Sir chuckled wickedly to himself. “Pringle was never an actual name, just a detrimental snack. You would be much better suited with Peabody. Classic, but preppy, which seems to be the direction you’re taking. Though I believe you should at least be a Junior.”

Before Dylan could fire back a string of arguments, Sir had ascended out of his throne and extended a strong palm.

“Congratulations, Dorrance Rotterham Peabody, Jr.,” Sir seemed very pleased with himself. “You will be a great fit as my new personal assistant.”

“Thank you immensely, Sir!” Dorrance replied, jumping out of his chair in excitement and eagerly shaking the man’s hand. “How soon may I begin to work under you?”

“Right away, boy.” Sir made sure to emphasize the demeaning word. “I have a few outfits I need you to sort through and approve of, as you know my taste quite exquisitely.”

“Of course, Sir.” Dorrance followed Sir to a table covered in sheets displaying different suits and styles. He immediately immersed himself into the work, separating out the preferable blacks, navys, and grays from the disgusting other palettes. This extremely pleased Sir, so much so that he wanted to reward Dorrance with something special. So, Sir gave Dorrance’s butt a big appreciation swat as he strutted away, causing Dorrance’s ample rump to shudder within his pants as he continued his work.

— —

Elijah grimaced, noticing the time on the gigantic clock inside the main lobby had only moved by a minute. The wait had been a lot longer than he had expected, forcing him to cancel an event with friends and a hookup from Grindr. It had been about an hour since Dylan had been taken away to his interview, and almost 2 hours since Joe’s disappearance. He was concerned about what this meant for them, but he was becoming more concerned about what this could’ve possibly meant for himself. Maybe he didn’t have a chance within the Carmichael Corporation. Elijah was beginning to feel as if the employers had completely forgotten him when a young man magically appeared before him, answering his plea.

The man wore a tight fitting suit, seemingly strained at both the broad shoulders and around the crotch. It was exceptionally subdued, a rather pale black color with a white button-up shirt and a gray tie with a subtle windowpane pattern. He carried a briefcase that looked both rather expensive and rather ordinary. The young man stood ramrod straight, his muscular build hidden by the extremely high rise of his pants, sitting above his belly button just under the rib cage. His powerful jaw–while covered in a little youthful baby fat–spread wide and hung low, giving his face a square, lantern shape.

“Elijah Grove.”

“Yes?”

“I assume you are the last respondent today?” His voice was slow and deep, catching Elijah off guard.

“I guess?”

“Do you guess or do you know?” The young man seemed to get rather disgusted by Elijah’s uncertainty. “If you expect to succeed at the Carmichael Corporation, you are going to have to know.”

“I-” Elijah was almost sure he saw the young man’s eyes flash dazzlingly as he began. “I know I am the last respondent, yes.”

“Grand.” The man ushered Elijah to get up and tread closely behind. Following quickly, Elijah was surprised to see that they were leaving the building.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Elijah chose his words carefully. “Where are we going?”

“I am fond of conducting my interviews over promenades,” the young man replied. They steered their way around crowds of businessmen as they ventured into the streets, making random turns here and there. “It shows how well you can think on your feet, literally. It is an aptitude you will need to be proficient in if you want to become an Associate like myself.”

“Associate?” Elijah blinked a few times out of confusion, knowing that he had applied to work as an intern in the financial department. Although he was a few inches taller than the young man, he was having a little difficulty catching up, causing him to fall in and out of the conversation.

“Indeed,” the man misinterpreted the question. “I was recently put in charge of development acquisitions and advanced from Junior Associate to an Associate. Fascinating, is it not?”

“Sure.”

The two strolled a little further out of the city, moving away from the busy center where the Carmichael Corporation headquarters stood. They came upon streets a little emptier then before until they finally turned into an old park. It was actually quite beautiful, covered in old knotty trees and overgrown plants. Birds were constantly chirping and squirrels chased after each other like there was no tomorrow. It was also littered in large stones, adding an oddly picturesque feel to it. Elijah was surprised that he had lived in the city for so long and had never once been to this place.

After a while more of walking, the man led them to an old picnic table before turning around and offering a large, rough hand. Confused, Elijah accepted it and the grip practically shattered his bones. Elijah had kept his body fit since his high school basketball days, so he was surprised to feel such a sheer strength in the young man’s shake.

“My name is Keating Eckley Whitlyn, Jr.,” the young man stated before placing his briefcase down and taking a seat at the table. “Our interview should not extend too lengthily, as I have some imperative work to attend to after this.”

“What would that be?” Elijah asked earnestly, his jovial tone a major contrast to Keating’s flat, molasses-like demeanor. At 6’7, it was fairly difficult for him to get his skinny legs under the table, but he managed.

“I have been assigned to a downtown acquisition project, a potential development on 520 Porter where we need to clear the lot.”

“Huh, okay,” Elijah strangely got interested. “So what is it that you are removing?”

“Currently the future site of the Carmichael Settlement on Porter is occupied by this park we are lounging in right now.”

“This park?” Elijah was surprised. “But it’s stunning! There’s so much life and nature here. You wanna tear it down?”

“It is an eyesore and it occupies a lot with high economic potential. It is better suited for development.”

“How could you be such a soulless jerk?” Elijah scolded, getting angrier faster than he had anticipated. He began caring less and less about the job and more about his own morality. Sure, Elijah got how important money was, but he didn’t think he would be able to live with the guilt of destroying an animal’s habitat, let alone an entire population’s. “Don’t you understand what you would be doing? The impact this will have?”

“I’m offended by your tone.” Even after being insulted, Keating’s voice still sounded low, slow, and empty. His eyes however seemed to flare up before he continued. “And yes, I understand exactly the impact this will have. It will create a serviceable, profitable property for the Carmichael Corporation, which in turn will compensate me with enough money to survive. That is what any respectable man like you and I would desire.”

“Survive?” Elijah mocked, now getting extremely annoyed that Keating had compared the two of them.

“Obviously.” Keating wasn’t defending himself, but instead explaining what he thought was a common fact. “I just bought a house out in Fenwick, the only neighborhood in this squalid city with expansive acreage, tree-shaded streets, and good schools. It is very difficult to purchase a home in that neighborhood, especially one with the seven bedrooms, four floors, and private tennis court I required. Plus, I’m working on my country club application. The application fee alone is $50,000. Looking over your records earlier, I had gathered that was something you desired as well, correct?”

“Yes, that is true.” The idea was buried inside Elijah’s mind. Far from feeling like a fresh fantasy, it was embedded deep, as though it had always been there, as though he’d always wanted to buy a giant mansion in a gated neighborhood with an expensive country club. It was always the goal to move out to Fenwick for corporate shark Elijah.

“I am relieved that that is settled.” Keating opened his briefcase to reveal a combination of different documents, papers, and a massive book that Elijah couldn’t believe fit in the bag. Keating proceeded to pull it out and flipped open to a page somewhere in the middle.

“To become an Associate, you will first be assigned underneath me as a Junior before moving up the ladder. You will still make a good deal of money however, so do not feel too unsettled. Do you understand?”

Although they were maintaining a shared gaze, Keating was not able to read the confusion on Elijah’s face.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s correct.” Elijah was here for a position in the financial department, not to be an Associate, so he was embarrassed to point out the error that Keating had made. Not embarrassed enough however to not correct him.

“As a Junior Associate, you’d start with a baseline of 100 plus three percent commission with incentives quarterly based on goals and projects,” Keating answered, once again misreading. “I believe that will be appropriate compensation, am I accurate?”

“Yes, indeed you are,” Elijah replied cheerfully, glad that the issue was all cleared up. He had wanted to start as an Associate right away as he was worried it the Junior position wouldn’t give him the pay he had hoped for, but apparently it wasn’t that far below. Plus, if he did well, he could quickly move up like Keating had.

“Your job will require calls, lots of calls,” Keating droned, his piercing eyes drilling right into Elijah’s. “Calls to landowners, historical groups, insurance companies, auctioneers, all with their own opinions and interests. A few calls will be less productive, with upset protestors yelling at you about our improvement upon the lot. You will have to decelerate your speech to command attention better. Be direct and contain emotions. You will be better suited to appear calm and in control at all times. There is no need to ever appear energetic or excited.”

The hurling of information confused Elijah. “So you are saying I shouldn’t care about the clients?”

“Yes,” Keating confirmed. “You can try being sympathetic, but you will quickly find that being stern and direct will get them off the line quicker so you can return to work. Based off of what I have already perceived, this will not be a hindrance.”

“Thank you.” Elijah found himself mimicking Keating’s voice: deep, dull, and disinterested.

“There are many perks of the job, including a corporate gym on the fifth floor which I highly recommend you use.” After investigating Elijah’s long, fit body, Keating brought his eyes back to Elijah’s own. “We expect every man to have a sense of presence at the Carmichael Corporation. Currently, you are far from meeting those standards.”

“What do you mean by that?” Elijah responded. It was hard for a man of his height to keep a healthy weight. A high metabolism meant he was always fairly skinny, but he didn’t expect it would be such a problem.

“The gym is a good source of weight training,” Keating continued, ignoring the question. “I personally workout an hour before work each day and one hour afterwards. You will be expected to maintain a similar routine. It appears however that you already understand the importance of presence, but if you are interested in a tour of the corporate gym I would not be affronted.”

“Thank you, I would be very fond of that.” Elijah smiled politely after his reply, moving his legs a little under the picnic table. At 6’3, it was a little difficult for him to keep his well-defined legs under the table, but he managed. Although he’d left golf after college (and hoped to get back into it with his admission into the country club) Elijah had made sure to keep his body in excellent shape by working out almost everyday. His proof could be seen through the skin-tight quarter-zip sweater and the black khaki’s that hugged his meaty quads and calves.

“At the Carmichael Corporation, we do have a dress code, but it is reasonably undemanding.” Keating turned the manual around to show Elijah. The page that Keating had flipped to displayed a model covered head to toe in a full, very dapper yet very posh suit. Elijah’s eyes fluttered quickly before looking back to Keating for confirmation.

“‘Reasonably undemanding’?”

“I would say so. A suit works as the foundation of a man’s future in business.” Keating closed the handbook and placed it back into his briefcase. Elijah could have sworn a tiny smile crept onto the corners of Keating’s mouth during the action. “I appreciate that you have already generated this knowledge.”

“I’m glad you noticed,” Elijah flourished, his voice still plodding. Elijah had made sure to pick out an outfit that had shown off all of his best features. First, a drab, beige, perfectly-cut jacket with matching pleated pants, accompanied by a striped salmon button-up that contrasted well against his pale skin. He had matched his coffee-colored tie to similar shaded Size 13 tassel loafers and a pair of bronze supports that were hidden expertly beneath his coat. Finally, he had styled his blond hair into a fashionable ivy-league cut, making sure to also get a fresh shave earlier that morning. Just the thought of himself in the outfit made him perk up inside his white briefs, bringing his dick to a 6.5-inch mast.

“There are only a few more things we must address, one being your character and ethics.”

“What is it the company expects?” Elijah asked.

“You must understand,” Keating glared. “the Carmichael Corporation expects every man to share the same morale system. We want a unified front; a collective conscience per say.”

“Alright,” Elijah accepted. “What are these shared values?”

“There are the equitable ideals like marrying a woman of the same class, having an abundance of children, and being a member of good standing at multiple prestigious clubs.”

Elijah sighed to himself quietly while still maintaining eye contact, disappointed in these old-fashioned beliefs.

“At the Carmichael Corporation, we also have intimate objectives that stand high above the others. You must want to move upwards on the corporate ladder. You must want to fully commit yourself to your work. You must want to embody everything a man should be: big, strong, soon to be rich. You must want to be every title a man should own: sportsman, fraternity brother, and avaricious. You want money, do you not?”

“Yes,” Elijah confirmed deliberately. “I want money.” This brought a greedy sneer spread to Keating’s face. Elijah felt like a low, deep, and great truth had awoke inside him. Luckily, the Carmichael Corporation’s principles had aligned perfectly to his own.

“Very good.” Keating eyes also seemed to grin wildly. “Now, two imperative adjustments I would personally like to make. The first is your name.”

“My name?” Elijah opposed.

“Yes, you will need something stronger, more outdated to establish yourself as a man of the Carmichael Corporation. Is that not true?”

“Yes, I do believe that to be true,” Elijah suddenly affirmed. “Please tell me what you think my name should be.”

“Your name is not the only dilemma however, but also your nationality,” Keating resumed. “I believe a British origin would give you a brilliant presence. More mannerful, much more respectable, and it would help establish you as a leading man. Plus, a legacy will give you generational value. What do you think?”

“I-”

“But,” Keating cut off before Elijah could even attempt to reply. “I should not be bashful in saying that you already represent all those factors. Care to agree, Emerson Foley Gillingham-Smyth?”

“Most certainly,” Emerson acknowledged accordingly in a pretentious accent. He was a diligent, hard-working, and prosperous Brit, and those were only the first words that came to his head. Some may have called him smug and arrogant, but he was really just confident and self-assured. He resembled the epitome of a real man, as displayed by his stunning suit that contrasted his tanned skin eloquently. His dark, chestnut hair and beard also gave off a shocking amount of masculinity. Just the thought of himself and his own superiority made him perk up inside his white briefs, bringing his dick to a 9-inch mast. He was by no means a repulsive sodomite, but he could admit a handsome man when he saw one. And he was a handsome man.

“So what do you convey, Keating Eckley Whitlyn, Jr.?” Emerson began, taking a stand with his Size 15 feet planted firmly beneath him. “Do you believe I could become a Junior Associate at the Carmichael Corporation.”

“By all means,” Keating replied, getting up and extending a hand forward. “You’ll be a fashionable fit.” They gave a single sturdy shake before finishing their business. While heading towards the exit, they held a light conversation about stocks, each having grabbed a business edition of the Times along the way.

Gripping the paper tightly as they drifted away from the park, Emerson felt almost restless. The idea of stripping away that atrocity of a park to add in a new, profitable site was so thrilling it was mildly arousing. After his success here, Emerson knew he would receive a promotion, which pleased him mightily. Making their way across a boulevard, Emerson watched the Carmichael Corporation’s headquarters come into view, the place where he knew he would accomplish everything he desired.

[fakehappy96]

Dr Deep has a sleeve of chicken and egg tattoos i’m gonna-

[thiamfresh]

Jamie's thoughts while being trained by Roy: hope this improves my football skills :)) I wonder if Roy thinks I'm doing better

Roy's thoughts while training Jamie: he should tie a rope around his cock.

[pnp4str8jock]

Partied hard with this kid I met at my connects . Brought him back to my place where he throat fucked me and fed me so much cum.