Levi finished strapping Richard up to his... drone? That strange new business partner had provided Richard with technology that should not be possible for current knowledge. Thought-controlled hovering platforms like this? Well, he supposed it was not nearly as ludicrous as transforming people into their own genitals.
Or replacing your cock with your boss.
Levi blushed and tried to keep his thoughts to himself. Even as he worked, he found his groin tingling with the marked absence of his penis. It might take a few days without attaching Richard Thompson to his crotch to regrow his dick, according to Richard's new business partner.
"Are you done fiddling with those straps, Levi?" Richard asked impatiently.
"Right away, sir," he said, blushing harder at the thought of a simple cock talking to him like that. Fuck, what would it be like if, say, he had to bring Richard back home with him after work?
Finally, they were ready to leave for the board meeting with the directors. It had been delayed by five minutes, but Richard was a busy man with a strong personality and a reputation for earnest, hard work. They would not have minded. The drone shot off, opening the lead as naturally as if Richard was still in his regular human body. He displayed absolutely no sense of shame, and, in Hugo's pocket, Danny could not help feel a little awe at his father's guts.
"We should follow," Levi said to Hugo and Danny (mostly Hugo, if he were being honest), "Mister Thompson has a tendency to wait for no one."
Danny would be kept by that Hugo man for now. Richard had too much on his plate - or drone, especially considering the size of those balls - to properly look after his son in that vulnerable state. Especially when he himself had limited independance. For now, Richard's focus would be ensuing his son still had a future, even if he was stuck as a cock.
The glass doors opened for Richard's drone, and that alone captured the attention so well that Hugo slipped in, before somehow disappearing from view entirely. Levi did not question it. He, instead, looked for the reactions of the directors: Robert, a little of a beer gut in his middle age, Bradford, still muscular and well-tanned after years of extreme sports as a hobby, Gerald, the first of Richard's associates and of course, Jonathan "Long Jon", a near alcoholic that somehow got the best insider information on the market.
The four dickheads that helped Richard run his company.
They all stared at the drone. Then, harder, once they realized that no, they were not hallucinating, it was being piloted by a life-like dildo.
"What is the meaning of this?" Bardford asked, standing up and pointing a large finger at Levi. "Where is Richard?"
They all jumped with Richard's voice came out of the floating penis. "Right here, Brad."
"Dick? Old pal, is that you?" Gerald asked.
Richard snorted, which produced a few drops of clear liquid at his slit. "I just said that."
"What happened to you? I mean," Gerald struggled with words, looking at the others.
"You're a talking cock," Robert said, baffled.
"So what? It's the newest trend in body modification. Better than plastic surgery and hormone treatment for muscles, BRAD. Strip all the useless parts away, and remain purely alpha male. Be your own fucking cock."
Jonathan looked up as if he was waking up from a daze. "What? No, bullshit. There's no such trend. That's pure insanity."
One more declaration that had little effect on Richard's swagger. In fact, it only seemed to give him fuel. He reared a little, slamming back down. No one could look away from the tantalizing dick on display.
"Oh, it doesn't matter. I'll start it myself if I need to," Richard promised, his shaft now fully stretched. His dickhead was an angry red, a long vein twitching on the underside his shaft.
Gerald squirmed in his seat. From Levi viewpoint, one could notice the tent in his pants. They had been rumored to have fooled around on and off before and after their respective weddings had fallen through.
"In fact, I've instaured a new company policy. All members of the boards of directors can only be dicks.So, unless you want to lose your positions, you better get in on the new train."
Bradford and Jonathan burst out laughing. Gerald, on the other hand, paled. He was the first to really get it. Richard did not joke. He actually expected the four of them to be dicked right this instant.
"Dick, old pal, you know that you can sometimes get a bit carried away... " he began cautiously, trying for a calming influence.
Brad, the moron, failed to pick up on that. "Carried away? If you think for a second I'm going to get reduced to a powerless dick for no reason, Thompson is not just a fuckstick anymore, he's a fucking tool."
"You can't just..." Jonathan sputtered. "You don't control the full shares anyway."
"Exactly." Bradford nodded. "Why should I even listen to you anymore? You've lost it, Thompson. In fact, give me one good reason why I shouldn't take control of the company right here and now."
Richard chuckled. "Gladly. Levi."
Dutifully, he tapped a few buttons on his tablet and the conference room's screen started displayed a loop of pictures. All of them documents with large amounts of finances moved out of the company, or in. Bradford's bravado shrivelled.
"You fuckers all thought I was blind before, huh? You wanted a reason? Here's ten, Brad. I have so much evidence on you and those two backstabbers next to you that my automated email will have you all put in prison for thirty years at the least. Think you can last long in prison, Robert? Bet you'd make a fine bitch."
Richard's drone floated him right up to Robert's face. The chubby man shook his head, terrified. He hadn't kept in as good a shape as his colleague. Now he could only imagine what prisoners would do to him if he got stuck with them.
Richard flew his drone away, not glancing at the corpse-white Bradford and Jonathan. He headed straight for Gerald. "Gerald, even you. I expected it from Misters Embezzlers and Sir Insider Trader, but my best friend?"
"Nico was sick, and the hospital bills were climbing, Richard, you know, I told you. It was the only way," Gerald pleaded.
"Well, this is now the only way any of you can hope to avoid prison." Richard floated back to Levi and Hugo, who was preparing his dicking camera with anticipation. "You will all transfer seven percent of your shares to my son. Applicable immediately. Afterwards, you will be dicked and resume your work, without the fraud and money grubbing. Next time, you won't be getting a choice. It's what we call, in the business, grabbing someone by the balls."
That last part had been aimed at his son, still watching, hidden by Hugo's cloaking device.
Bradford stuttered some more, only to be interrupted.
"So, you have a choice. You can either be poor men in prison, or rich dicks in my company." Richard's dickhead jolted angrily. "And I think we all know what you bastards will pick."
Pure silence fell down over the board meeting. Various expressions of disbelief and anger and fear showed on the directors' faces, but none seemed to be capable of words at that moment.
Then, Gerald shook his head and chuckled quietly. "I'm so sorry, Richard. I should have been straight with you from the beginning."
For some reason, that got Richard to laugh too.
Gerald's face settled into quiet acceptance. "Go ahead. Turn me into my dick. Nico still needs my help."
"Good," Richard said, apparently sincere.
Hugo grinned under his cloaking device and turned on the flash to maximum output. He ignored the other directors' protests and aimed exactly at Gerald. One click later, and a six inches cock had replaced him, lying just on the edge of the table.
Robert, even paler than before, mumbled. "No, not prison, I can't. You gotta promise, Richard. I did everything to live comfortably." He turned fearful eyes on Richard, which was all the consent Hugo decided he needed.
"You'll love it, Bobby," Richard snickered to himself, seeing the curvy dick on the chair drooling precum already.
Long Jon glanced between the two new dicks in the room, licked his lips and raised a hand. In the moment's pause, he grabbed a flash of whiskey from his coat's inner pocket and swallowed a large gulp. "There, I think I'm good. Dick me."
Hugo did with enthusiasm. Jonathan lived up to his nickname, poking out of the crumpled clothing on his chair and even drooping slightly over the edge. Easily up to par with Jacob, and perhaps even Bruce Bullheart!
And then, there was only Bradford. He was looking between all the dicks in the room, his jaw hanging. His muscles tensed, like he might try to run for it. Or maybe try and knock Richard off his drone. Except, his eyes flickered back to the projector and all the evidence of his criminal actions laid out bare.
Richard huffed. "Oh, get over yourself, Brad. This is happening whether you like it or not. Everyone else understood that. But maybe you can just have fun in prison. Plenty of time there for you to do some strength exercises, huh? Fine. I'll rest easier knowing you're finally out of my company."
"Fuck no. You can't rid of me that easy. Dick me."
At the very last second, it looked like Bradford might change his mind, but when he opened his mouth, it was too late. The flash hid him from view until he fell from his clothe and landed, as his cock, on his chair.
"Ah! So you DID go skinny dipping with a few cuban models," Richard laughed at the tan, beer-can thick dick that Bradford had turned into. "Thought you were lying about that, but apparently not."
Hugo glanced at Richard on his drone, impressed by that verbal beatdown. A simple dick, completely incapable of any form of physical harm, hell, not even able to carry out his threat by himself, had gotten four rich and powerful men to turn themselves into their penises through sheer force of personality, and blackmail. Money. He hadn't thought of that one before. It had seemed a useless venue for manipulations. What person would let themselves be reduced to a cock just for money? He had severely underestimated men's greed and lust, it seemed.
Hugo was so glad he'd listened to his instinct and let Richard act as dominant as he wished. Organic developments in an experiment yielded the best results! Not to mention, after such a display, Danny might become inspired to try his hand at convincing some of his friends in college to get dicked too.
"Levi," Richard called from his drone, and the secretary suddenly got the impression that a cock could grin evilly, "reward them for their compliance."
Levi hesitated only for a moment, before picking up all four penises from their places strewn over the conference room. He grinned slyly at the warm, pulsing feeling against his arms and palms. And the slick liquid that was coating some of their dickheads.
"How so, sir?"
"Surprise them," Richard ordered. "Then, once Hugo is done fitting them with speaker chips, we'll set about our new department. The department of dicks."