"I still think this is a bad idea," he said, barely audible with the music pulsing from beyond the wall.
"Shut up, Steven," Andrew hissed, shooting a look to the bathroom's door. They'd blocked it, but it wouldn't hold up to anyone determined enough. Or a bouncer. God, what Steven would do to see a bouncer barge in right now. "If we fail, the boss will fire us."
Gulping, his mouth dry, Steven looked at the two thirty-something guys passed out inside the stall. Their clothes were wrinkled, and their flies had been halfway undone. Steven tried not to let his eyes linger on the bulges tenting both their boxers, lest he forgot what he was talking about. "Yeah, well, maybe it'd be better to be fired. This is crazy, Andy!"
"Every company does it."
Andrew propped his sleeping target on the toilet seat and finished pulling the man's pants all the way. A thick seven inches dick sprung free, beads of pre spraying on Andrew's wrist. In other circumstances, Steven would be rather excited to be in this situation.
"I'm not talking about corporate espionage in general, Andrew. It's the method I'm against!"
Andrew's large hand suddenly pushed against Steven's mouth. "Will you keep it down?!" he growled. "You heard the rumor about Dick and Son Inc., didn't you? The boss already tried to get someone hired through the normal process, but they've upped their criterias like crazy. They vetoed all our guys. We're plan C."
Plan Cock. 'Fucking insanity' had presumably been copyrighted by whoever had started all the shit happening at Dick and Son Inc. Except, well, their shares on the stock market had doubled in value, or something close to it. *Their* boss, Alexander Johnson, hadn't been pleased. Threatened to fire a bunch of people for being incompetent (and he wondered how Dick and Son Inc. could suddenly have records high employee satisfaction numbers?). Raged in his office for almost a week.
Right until a mysterious benefactor had sent a bunch of emails full of secret information about the company. Two days later, that weird electronic chip in the mail arrived for the boss. Steven, being a mid-management guy, had only heard the rumors. Andrew, much higher in the hierarchy, had discovered what happened to Billy, the intern working as a secretary.
Steven felt a long shiver go down his spine at the memory. At the thought of the disembodied penis Mister Johnson had placed down on the desk to his office. He had thought it had been a dildo, until he'd seen the twitches and the lengthening shaft, and the clear liquid dripping down the dickhead.
Heat pooled around his groin, and whilst Steven shook his head to try and screw it on straight, he couldn't help the tightening feeling of his pants shrinking around his dick. Fuck.
Andrew smirked. That asshole. He knew. Right from the start. Said it was only a job, one only they could do for the boss. They'd receive a promotion and an enormous bonus if they did it right. They wouldn't do it wrong. As the boss had so eloquently said:
"Johnson & Co doesn't get involved in illegal tactics. We'd never send spies." And Steven had heard the threat loud and clear. "Besides, you won't be caught. You're perfect for the job."
Oh yeah. Perfect. Rather invasive scans had been performed on the entire salaryforce in Johnson & co without anyone noticing, and wouldn't you know it? Steven and Andrew had fit the profile to the smallest detail.
Andrew stripped Steven's own target, tired of his delaying, and the thirty-two years old guy (Russell Fludd) let out a faint moan as his cock bobbed in the open.
Nine inches, uncut, veiny. Near identical to Steven's own tool. Russell wouldn't notice the difference, the benefactor had assured them all. Same with Andrew's target, Bradley. Both model employees and rumored to be pending members of the new project that was helping Dick and Son get so far ahead of the competition.
"Better get ready," Andrew drawled.
Steven showed him his middle finger, which was of course laughed off. He was still here, wasn't he? Inside this dark and damp bathroom in a nightclub about to turn himself into a dick for the sake of his job. When he was done stripping, Andrew picked up all his clothes and shoved them into the garbage can in the corner, his mostly empty wallet and phone included. Paid expenses, they said.
Both naked, with unconscious hard dudes still drunkenly mumbling and moaning, Steven could say he had sacrificed a lot for his career. "Okay, so we just... use the chip?"
"Ah! Yeah, no way in hell am I letting you go second," Andrew said, crossing his toned arms over his chest. "You'll chicken out immediately. Get going."
Steven knew he couldn't delay any longer. Andrew could and would push him down if he needed to, and it wouldn't be pleasant. At least, Russell was kind of cute. A five o'clock shadow, near shaven black hair, slightly square face. Close to his type. Steven took a deep breath, then He stifled a gasp as the large member pushed into his ass. G-god, he needed a second to adjust or he wouldn't-
Andrew pressed on the chip on the spot.
The feeling of being filled vanished in a flash. Rather, he felt stranded in midair, above large swaths of muscles and skin and hair, unable to move an arm or a leg.
He could feel the haziness of drunkenness creeping in on him. They'd really gone heavy on the drinks for their targets, hadn't they?
Fingers almost as long as his whole body tickled the underside of his shaft. Teased the spot where his dickhead started. Steven's mind blanked for a pulse or two, just the time it took for Andrew's grin to come into view. "Man, you really did turn into a dick, didn't you, Steven?" He punctuated his question with rough fingers rubbing Steven's head. "Fuck, I want to play with you so bad. I bet you want me too, right?"
His balls clenched in response. Yes. God, yes, Steven wanted everything Andrew wanted so long as he made him cum!
But, cruelly, the fingers pulled away, leaving naught but cold and a cry of distress from the newly dicked man.
Andrew snickered. "Focus, man, we got a mission, remember?"
A what? Oh, oh, yeah, the spying, sure. He was on board with that. Whatever. Just come back, please?
Except the giant Andrew pulled further back, moving toward the unconscious Bradley who had left his head lolling to the side and his dick outstretched like a pole. With no warnings, Andrew lowered himself on top of Bradley, reflexively pressing the button on the dicking chip.
Steven saw the chip clatter on the bathroom floor, forgotten as Andrew vanished. From four, there were only two men left in the bathroom, neither aware of what had transpired. The lack of spoken words almost seemed suffocating, with only the distance throbbing of bar music for company.
'Fu-uuuuck,' Steven heard in Andrew's voice. A hallway's worth of distance away, a whole story higher than Steven, Bradley's cock shook. Pre was leaking out of the tip, and Steven suddenly felt liquid bubble up in the back of his throat.
A pleasant fog started to cloud his senses, adding to the heavy feeling on his mind. Steven felt himself jolt up and almost touched the enormous abs of his host. Russell's sleeping face twitched but he did not wake up.
'A-Andrew? Was that you? How are you talking to me?'
He felt the faint amusement with the words. 'Oh, yeah, s'not talking, but we can hear the thoughts of all the dicks around us. We're psychic dicks or something. Better to discover secrets. If any of the dicks in that company know, we'll find out immediately!'
Steven considered the implications of dozens of voices in his head all moaning and begging for release. And choked on more pre. 'S-sure. Espionage. All for the sake of the boss. Hey, huh, random question, but can you get any friction? Because I just get a little and I really, REALLY want more.'
A few more instants of desperate silence followed. Bradley's new penis stayed almost completely immobile.
'God fucking damnit! Should've laid them on top of each other!'
But try as they might, without any external stimulation, with the alcohol slowly adding its effect on them, both newly dicked men eventually softened and passed out with their owners.
***
The elevator's chime made Steven jump, and, in response, a hand pressed against the fabric around him to readjust his position in the boxers he was currently occupying. He was feeling hot, stuffy, sweaty, and god, he had spent the whole day confined in darkness with only vague, muffled conversations all happening around his owner. Russell hadn't even jerked off this morning after being throw out of the bar!
Steven really hoped this was what he thought it was, because he was losing his mind just listening to Andrew cursing Bradley for not wanking every other minute. He - IT was hard enough just waiting all day for a chance to be used without someone else screaming about it in your head.
The legs around him started moving again, jostling him with every step, as Russell got out of the elevator.
"Hey, huh, hi, this is the new gym, right?"
"Yes, sir, I'll just need your employee's card for a second."
Fabric brushed against Steven when Russell searched his pocket and gently pinched him back in place.
Faint clicking, maybe typing?
"Alright, your membership has been verified and accepted. You guys can go change in the lockers to your right. Welcome to the first human-dick gym. Please, take off everything except your shoes. Shirts are optional."