Lucas wanted to weep. He did, sort of. The taste of precum was ever present on his mind as the liquid oozed out of his slit. It was all he could do. His shaft might jolt a bit, but never enough to let him move away from his spot on a shelf. The nice warm air of the lab kept his sack loose, relaxed, whenever Hugo was busy somewhere else.
From the muffled words he'd managed to catch, Hugo was doing some sort of side-project with Danny and his father. Danny. Fuck, Lucas had never been jealous before, but now he was shaking with anger just thinking about that lucky fucker. Lucas had seen him on campus a handful of times, just lying on a library table with George or being played with in the bathrooms. Why couldn't he have had that? So what if he'd cheated on the finals? Who wouldn't have, after witnessing Bruce's cock floating around?
If he'd known Hugo what would do...
The bastard hadn't said a word to them since. He just let them lying around on the table until he had a use for one of them and he'd simply pluck the one dick for some trial run or another. He manipulated whichever dick he'd taken carelessly, without any precaution for rough handling. Sometimes, the pain of an unexpected twist of Lucas' shaft or balls had made him scream in his mind. He hated it. He hated how his body hardened regardless. He felt used. Hugo did not even have the decency to enjoy it. If he hooked Lucas on a pump or a fleshlight or a tank full of aphrodisiac, Hugo would only watch and note things down, as if Lucas wasn't losing his mind to pleasure.
He never offered more than a glance. Every look was clinical, examination was only ever for gathering data. He treated them all the same: like objects.
Lucas knew he was more than just his dick. Freaky technology aside, of course. But Hugo was treating him and the others with the same consideration he would a bunch of dildos. Isaac and Model #7 - whoever that had been - were played with, asked their opinions, allowed periods of bathing, whilst Lucas was forced to watched, pinned on hard wood yelling inside his mind. Even the other silent cocks in the labs were treated with gentler hands.
He'd kill to just to hear himself speak. To hear what the others had to say. At least they could curse out their fate together instead of lying together, unable to move, unable to even share the comfort of human touch despite being inches apart.
Model twenty one to twenty seven. He might have been able to tell which were which he was still human, but as a dick, Lucas was too small himself to guess a penis' size. He *thought* twenty three might be Benjamin, but he wasn't certain, and twenty seven had to be Matthew. Virgin-boy was massive. From the perspective of a seven inch cock, Matthew looked nearly twice as long, thicker, taller.
Footsteps resonated through the lab, and Lucas tensed with anticipation. Hugo entered through the sliding glass doors, nose almost touching his tablet as he typed at very high speed.
Without looking, Hugo grabbed both Lucas and another cock. "Twenty four and twenty three should do," he mumbled, clearly not speaking for his captive's benefit.
Twenty four or twenty two? Which was it? That was the fourth time Hugo got it wrong. Fuck, he couldn't even have an actual number? He was his own person, damn it! Not a cookie cutter cock out of a sex shop! At least acknowledge that!
He wasn't just a cock! He wasn't!
More pre drooled out of Lucas' slit, seeping into Hugo's pockets.
***
With the exams over, the frats all over campus were starting to throw parties much like the one Hugo had initially attended.
This time though, he did not need Mint's subliminal messages to get an invite. News of his treatment of Bruce Bullheart had spread like wildfire and the frat's president, Ryan, had personally asked Hugo to attend. The man's handshake had been solid and firm, and the glint in his deep brown eyes had told Hugo that there was a naked interest in having Hugo visit the fraternity's place for that party.
Hugo, obviously, had decided to attend. A bunch of drunk males were the ideal targets for his next experiment. It would be so much simpler than stalking and planning for a way to further the dehumanization process. Now, he only needed to wait a few minutes, pretending to have fun with the various college students in the house.
His supercomputer's scan uploaded themselves into his contact lens. Every man around was being analyzed. He would surely find the right candidates in the crowd. And, if not, well, there was always...
"Hey, hey, hey, Hugo! Huuuuugo," called out a swaying latino. "My man, my dude," he raised his drink high, and his two friends imitated the motion. "You gotta show us that thing you did with the dean!"
A few more men had stopped talking and dancing to observe.
"I suppose I could," Hugo said slowly. "Why, do you volunteer?"
Fernandez didn't even hesitate. "You bet!" he shouted, grabbing both his mates by the shoulders. They echoed the sentiment.
Hugo grinned as he dicked the trio. Conditionning the campus' student body had worked wonders on men's willingness to be dicked. He let the three coppery dicks lie on the piles of clothes. The drunks all around cheered. A blonde broke from the crowd to pick up two six inchers, one in each hand. He held them upside down, his grip near the base of the shafts. "Look, guys, I'm playing the maracas!" he said, waving them wildly.
Laughter exploded from the crowd. It got worse when one of the two came on the blonde's shirt. At least two guys fell off the couch laughing too hard.
The third dick, five inches, was quickly slipped into Hugo's bag. It didn't hurt to diversify his collection, and who would begrudge him when he left them with two toys anyway? Hell, most guys that talked to him either wanted to request they be dicked or their friends were. He didn't take the request for other people, not tonight.
"Come on, Grant!" Adrian said with a shit-eating grin. "You're always such a dick. It would hardly be a change."
"Fuck off, Adrian. You do it if you're so sure."
"Okay." Adrian passed his glass to another guy. "Hold my beer."
Adrian's nine inch, uncut cock made Grant grimace and blush.
"Ah! Dude packed some meat. Bet you didn't only because you're smaller," Gary said.
Grant punched him, then turned to Hugo with the same request as Adrian. It turned out that, yes, Grant was smaller at six inches, but he was thick as the beer cans on the peer-bong table.
Travis stopped him in the kitchen and slurred on his request. But he managed and Hugo left with a nice eight inch cock inside his cup of punch.
So far, his computer hadn't found match. So far. A ringing in his ears lifted Hugo's spirit just before he decided to call it quit. His lens outlined one of the guys drinking in the corner as a good match for his plan.
Elliot Simmons, twenty-six, caucasian, brown haired. Cock: seven inches, uncut, with a slight curve right. A near perfect ringer for one of the penises Hugo was carrying. The next part was easy. He simply had to slide close, participate in the conversation once or twice and wait for the chance to slip the pills in Elliot's drink. A few minutes later, the guy announced he would go to the bathroom. Hugo followed him upstairs.
Elliot swayed a bit, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to focus. Hugo rushed to put an arm under his shoulder and let him stay upright.
"Thanks, man," Elliot slurred.
"Hey, no problem. Want to go lie down?"
Elliot nodded, closing his eyes. Dead to the world and unable to wake up for the next three hours. Homan drugs.
Hugo dropped Elliot on the bed.
He pulled out one of his 21-27 batch from his bag. He examined him for a minute just to make sure he wasn't mistaking him for one of the new cocks he'd acquired tonight. It looked like the right penis.
Hugo untied Elliot's belt and pulled off his pants. Then his shirt. Once the guy was naked, Hugo took a second to admire Elliot's body. He was muscular. Freshly shaven, with well-trimmed brown pubes crowning the seven inch cock his computer had analyzed. Perfect.
"See this, penis?" Hugo aimed the dickhead toward Elliot. "That's your new owner."
Hugo left that implication sink in, amused by the increased pulse under his palm. Shrugging, he lined up the dick with Elliot's and pressed them hard together. Just as Richard had with his secretary, this cock replaced Elliot's completely. However, unlike Richard, this cock couldn't speak and was similar enough that Elliot would not notice any difference.
The process usually left the new cock detachable by a strong enough pull, but Hugo had the technology to render that detail moot. A virtual photowavelength stitch would make it impossible to remove the new cock without access to homan tech.
"There you go," Hugo said, tickling Elliot's new balls and shaft. "Elliot's cock. That's your new identity. Lucky you, he's a good looking guy. Bet he has tons of sex."
Now, due to the experiments' parameters, he was required to have a way to locate the transformed men just in case his superiors ever ordered him to undue his actions so far. An unlikely prospect, considering how well things were evolving, but Hugo did not fancy the sort of punishment he might receive if he showed a lack of foresight. Even if, realistically, he'd like nothing more than to leave that cock attached to a stranger and forget his identity. He'd sleep well, knowing that somewhere out there, a human had been left completely helpless as the silent penis of an unaware stranger.
"This is farewell, Model twenty-two or is it twenty-three? I honestly can't even recall which one you are," Hugo whispered harshly. "Now, be a good cock for this nice man. Not that you have a choice either way." He patted the dick's side condescendingly. "Welcome to your new life."
The poor dick quivered, weeping wildly. Pre dripped down the slit into Elliot's belly button. Hugo pretended to laugh, and stroke the underside of its shaft a couple of times. He helped roll the foreskin off the head, and breathed right over the slit. That did the trick. Strings of cums shot out of Lucas to cover Elliot's abs.
Elliot's mouth opened slightly as he let out a gasp of pleasure. He rolled over on his back, the gasp turning into a low moan.
"What the hell, man?" exclaimed a low, slurred voice.
Hugo whirled around, coming face to face with a drunk man in his late twenties, with no shirt, jeans with hole in them and a beer in his left hand.
"Saw you, saw you spike Elliot's drink." The young man's expression darkened, and his knuckles whitened on the doorframe. "You didn't take advantage of my bro, did you, fucker?"
He stumbled forward. With an incomprehensible howl, he attempted to grab Hugo by the collar.
Hugo pressed the flash and a thin ten inch cock fell out of the man's ratty jeans. With a shrug, Hugo picked up his new acquisition and desintegrated the clothes on the floor, wallet and phone included. He doubted anyone would remember seeing where that man had gone come morning. Worse comes to worst, he could always pretend this guy had asked to be dicked.
Really, coming at Hugo with intent to harm? He *was* asking to be dicked. Now he had to find one more guy to fuse this dick with.