The squad car rolled to a stop outside the police station. Todd held his hands behind his back and calmly waited for his moment to strike. The second Officer Erikson opened the door, Todd swung his cuffs at his face, startling him. He scrambled out of the car, grabbed the cop’s gun from its holster with a practiced flick, and careened down an alleyway, disappearing into the night.
…
Two hours later and thirty blocks away, Todd settled into his booth at the Rabbit in Red Lounge. Selling the cop’s gun didn’t get him much, but it was enough for him to comfortably skip town. He’d stolen some shorts and an undershirt from a clothesline, but the seams scratched at his meaty inner thigh. He hadn’t found any underwear, but he wasn’t about to go out in public to get some until the heat died down.
The waitress brought Todd his burger. The adhesive on one of her nipple tassels was wearing thin from her perspiration. He secretly hoped it would fall off, but she delivered his food without incident. He hungrily tucked in, devouring every last morsel. He walked up to the bar to order another beer, but in the corner of his eye he saw a flash of a blonde mustache waiting on the sidewalk outside. Subtly, he shifted his angle and peered out the slightly open door.
Shit. The pig. Office Erikson must have followed him somehow. Hoping he hadn’t been spotted, he ducked behind a velvet curtain into one of the private rooms.
“We’ll be with you in a minute, hon,” said a husky voice, tinged with gin and cigarette smoke.
He peeked out of the curtain gap. Shit. The damn cop was at the bar. The bartender nervously adjusted her bra strap and pointed to the private room. Double shit. He was walking over.
Todd backed into the dark, smoky room in a defensive stance. He waited in silence, but was caught by surprise when the cop came barreling into the room, sending him tumbling to the floor. In the scuffle, he knocked off the officer’s hat. He reached for it – maybe he could use it to blind him, or-
Officer Erikson’s face went blank and he fell to the floor. Well, that was easy. Was he drunk? Todd stepped over the prone officer to deliver a heavy blow, but he too experienced a wave of dizziness and crashed onto the carpet. As the cop next to him shrunk a few inches, his dark beard growing in, Todd felt his anger wither along with his muscles. He sat up, rubbing his head.
“Erik? What the hell happened? Where are we?”
“I have no idea, hon.” Erik sat up and picked up a cop hat off the floor. “Any idea whose this is?”
Todd felt a strange flash of fear upon seeing the hat. “I’m not sure. I feel a little tipsy… Wait, where’s my engagement ring?!”
His frantic search was cut short by a sharp pain in his chest. He lifted his shirt to find a gold hoop glinting in his left nipple. He shrieked and removed the garment, poking and prodding at the new intruder on his torso.
“I’m starting to get flashes of what happened, but none of it makes sense…” said Erik, “It all started with this weird video Marcus sent me.”
“I don’t care. I’m just happy you’re safe!” cried Todd, flinging his arms around his fiancé’s neck. They began to kiss lovingly, then more passionately as the post-transformation adrenaline kicked in. Without regard to their surroundings, they pressed against one another, Erik removing his shirt in the throes of passion.
As one, their cocks began to stiffen. A familiar tingling flooded their bodies.
“Uh… oh…” they said in unison. As they tried to pry themselves apart, they found that they couldn’t budge. The ring had linked itself through Erik’s pink nipple, connecting the two for a brief moment until it released Todd, who fell back onto the floor.
“What the hell is happening, baby?” shouted Erik, the nipple ring glinting off his chest.
“The best night of your lives, that’s what,” said a disembodied voice. Two beautiful women in lingerie stepped into the room and gestured for the men to sit down. Stunned, they sat on opposite plush couches as the ladies set to work. Once the lap dances began, they felt their bodies flush with urges that simultaneously felt strange and utterly familiar.
The men hooted and hollered as their heterosexual sides won over yet again. Erik felt his dick grow an inch with each gyration of the dancer’s hips, as if she were drawing it out of him. When it reached ten inches, he moaned with pleasure. On the other side of the room, Todd’s dick stayed the same length, but swelled with girth until it was as fat as a beer can.
Erik tweaked his nipple ring as his torso stretched beyond capacity. As he grew taller, he got thinner like a piece of taffy stretching. His dark hair cascaded around his head, growing past his ears in sweaty ringlets. His beard receded away into nothing, save for a thin soul patch under his lip. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a joint. He lit it with a deft flick and took a deep drag while the stripper continued her dance.
Todd, on the other hand, only grew one inch in height, though his broadening shoulders and thickening torso still cut an intimidating figure. Starting at his fingers and toes, thick hairs curled up from his skin, spreading like wildfire toward his torso, where a thick mat of hair swirled around his nipples. He rubbed the hair, enjoying the texture as an even thicker beard bristled from his chin. It was short and clean-cut, but full and vaguely feral, as if he were only seconds away from snapping your neck. His hair gelled itself up into an elegant coif, hovering over his broad forehead and his sexy, beetle-black brows.
With every puff, Erik felt more and more comfortable. All the worries seeped from his brain, covered in an impenetrable fog of pot and bliss. He reached up to adjust the grey beanie that had suddenly appeared on his head. As he did so, his nipple ring caught on the thick woven fibers of the drug rug sweater that now draped his torso. His ensemble was completed by baggy, sagged denim jeans and a chain hanging loosely from his pocket.
Todd felt a sudden weight on his hips as a policeman’s belt circled above his dark pants. His leather uniform jacket creaked with the swaying motion. Underneath his soft pants he went commando, enjoying the friction of the dancer’s hips against his thick, fireplug cock. His entire body lay still. Only his eyes betrayed the fiery passion of his desire. He slicked back his hair with his hands and felt the thrill of testosterone pumping through his veins.
As quickly as they had come, the ladies retreated and vanished into the darkness. With a satisfied grin, Officer Rodd reached for his hat, where it had fallen on the carpet. He looked over at the pale, thin form of Erik, who was still contentedly toking on his plush perch. He felt eyes on him and looked over.
“Shit, it’s the fuzz!” With a rattle of his chain, Erik sprinted from the room, officer Rodd behind him, bounding after the youth with a wicked angry grin and the flush of pursuit.