Chapter 1

Detective Nick Baez cast a wary glance over at his partner detective and friend, Theo Barton. Theo nodded reassuringly but his body language communicated the opposite. He was seated stiffly in the cushy chair outside the chief inspector’s office, knees nearly up to his chin. Nick smiled. Theo was so tall that the guys on the force teasingly called him the ‘Scarecrow.’ In contrast, Nick was stocky and average height. He made up for his lack of height, though, with a muscular build. The two men were opposites in temperament and complexion as well; Theo was pensive and anxious with light hair and blue eyes, whereas Nick was taciturn and stoic with black hair and dark skin.

“It’ll be Ok, buddy,” Nick reassured. “I don’t think we’re in trouble.” 

Theo nervously pushed a stray lock of his blond hair behind his ear and swallowed, his big adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He looked back down at the book he was reading and Nick shook his head. It was Stephen Hawking’s The Grand Design. Theo was such an egghead! No one else on the force was such an academic overachiever; the brainiac had a masters in business administration as well as criminal justice.

Nick went back to studying his iPhone. He was flicking through Tinder, swiping left a lot more than right as he searched for a hookup. He was so fucking horny, he could shoot in his pants! He groaned in frustration as he swiped left on yet another total dog. Where the fuck were all the hot chicks hiding?

He was about to comment on the lack of good potential dates when the door to the inspector’s office opened and her assistant, a nerdy guy with thick-rimmed glasses and ill-fitting clothes, invited them in. Theo lurched to his feet, towering almost a half foot taller than Nick, and together they strode inside.

Inspector Garcia was an attractive, middle-aged woman with short, grey hair and penetrating brown eyes. She stayed seated as she greeted them and refrained from extending her hand, something that struck Nick as ominous. “Gentlemen,” she said, nodding curtly. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice.”

“No problem, ma’am,” Nick muttered, uncertain how to address the inspector.

“I’m honored, ma’am!” Theo chimed in, standing up straight and offering her a salute. Nick rolled his eyes. An egghead and a brown-noser, he thought sourly.

“I’ll get right to the point,” Garcia said, leaning back in her chair as her assistant took a seat behind her. “We believe that we have identified a human trafficking ring in the city and I have selected you for important undercover assignments. You are to infiltrate and gather the necessary evidence to break it up.”

This news and its abrupt delivery left both men speechless. They stood there staring down at the inspector, Theo with his mouth hanging open and Nick with his jaw tightly clenched. When neither spoke, Garcia motioned to the chairs in front of her desk. Theo immediately folded his long frame into his but Nick hesitated a moment before he sat down heavily, crossing his arms and frowning. His attitude seemed to amuse the inspector because she smiled unexpectedly as she said, “I realize that you haven’t gone undercover before but I want to assure you that you will be well-supported. My assistant, Bradley Whalen,” she paused, nodding over to Bradley who grinned sheepishly back at them, “will supervise your preparatory training and the implantation of your surveillance devices. We will–”

“Wait,” Nick interrupted, holding up his hand. “Surveillance devices? Implants? What’re you talking about? We haven’t even agreed to do this yet!”

Inspector Garcia nodded, reaching into her desk drawer. After rummaging around for a moment, she pulled out a small box and a pair of tweezers. “This,” she explained as she plucked out a tiny device with the tweezers and held it out for their inspection, “is an earpiece that both transmits and receives audio. It will allow Bradley to hear everything you do as well as talk to you privately.” As Theo and Nick gaped at the miniscule device, she extracted a second gadget that looked similar to the first. “And this,” she continued, “is a micro camera. Similarly, it allows Bradley to see–and record–everything you see. We will outfit you with these earpieces and cameras before you leave today.”

“Hold on,” Nick interjected, feeling increasingly put off by the inspector’s brusque manner. “We need details! What are we expected to do?”

“I appreciate your directness, Mr. Sutton,” Inspector Garcia said, giving him a tight smile that did not reach her eyes. “I was getting to that. Before I do, though, I want to say that we will pay handsomely for your work. I have arranged for a fifty thousand dollar bonus on your next paycheck…followed by another fifty thousand if you manage to infiltrate the ring. Does that make it worth your while?”

Theo started to nod but Nick reached out and put his hand on his arm, stating firmly, “Not until you tell us what the fuck you have in mind! If you’re paying us that much up front, it must be dangerous work.”

Garcia raised an eyebrow at the expletive and regarded him speculatively for a several seconds before leaning forward across her desk. “It isn’t dangerous so much as…”

“Just get to the point,” Nick growled, tired of getting the runaround. “Just tell us what you want us to do.”

Garcia blinked, favoring him with another tight smile. When she spoke, she answered his question with another question. “What would you say if I told you that you will be working in a gay nightclub?”

***

One week later, Nick and Theo took leave of their normal lives and assumed new identities fabricated by the inspector’s office. Both were outfitted with the micro earpieces and cameras and both had (almost) grown accustomed to the tinny chirp of Bradley’s voice in their ears. They were somewhat less sanguine knowing that he could see and hear everything they did…but it was a required part of the mission and, considering how much they were being paid, it was worth losing some privacy.

They were disappointed that Inspector Garcia decided to split them up and assign them to different clubs–with firm instructions that they were not to meet under any circumstances. “This job is far too critical for you to jeopardize by socializing while undercover,” she explained. “We simply cannot take the risk of your true identities being discovered. I will take your smartphones now and return them after you’ve cracked this case.” She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers.

Nick scowled and crossed his arms (the inspector really rubbed him the wrong way) but in the end turned over his iPhone. After a slight hesitation, Theo did the same. Garcia gave them her signature tight smile as she handed them new phones that were tied to their fabricated identities. With that, she nodded in farewell and walked briskly away down the hall.

After she left, Bradley appeared at Nick’s elbow, looking awkward as ever. The dude could never seem to find clothes that matched–or fit, for that matter–and had the annoying habit of pushing his glasses up his nose constantly. Worse, he was a ‘mouth-breather,’ letting his jaw hang open when he wasn’t talking. Nick found him nearly as annoying as the inspector.

“I’ve laid out your street clothes in the locker room,” Bradley informed them. “After you change, meet me in the parking lot where your department-issued cars are waiting. Nick, you’re interviewing for a bouncer position this morning at Tutti Frutti and, Theo, because you have an MBA, we’ve decided that you will interview for the finance manager position at the Bullpen.” Tutti Frutti and the Bullpen were the names of the clubs they were to infiltrate.

Bradley turned and they followed him downstairs while Nick wondered for the thousandth time if this was a good idea. Theo was glum and silent beside him. Nick knew him well enough by then to know that he was already worrying. Theo, like nearly all the eggheads Nick knew, had a strong neurotic streak.

“Hey,” he said as he donned the black sweats and hoodie he was wearing to the job interview, “it’ll be alright.”

Theo looked up from his locker and smiled wanly, saying, “I know, but–”

“No buts!” Nick scolded, pulling the hoodie over his head. It was really tight and his muscles bulged noticeably underneath the black fabric. “You’ll be fine. Now, go on! Get dressed!”

Theo nodded, pulling out the blue suit and tie hanging in his locker and holding them up. “Armani,” he murmured. “Wow! These are expensive!”

Nick shook his head, feeling like a thug in comparison. “Yeah, real expensive. Just don’t let it go to your head, alright? We got a job to do.”

“Of course!” Theo replied, lowering his head. He paused significantly before lifting his chin and fixing Nick with his blue eyes. As usual, a lock of his blond hair had slipped down, dangling over his right eye. “You know, N-Nick,” he stammered. “I’m going to–”

“Stop!” Nick said, cutting him off. “Don’t get all mushy on me! Just because we’re gonna be workin’ in gay clubs doesn’t mean we got to start actin’ like a couple of faggots. We’re police officers–straight police officers!–not sissies.”

Theo swallowed, taking a step backward, looking hurt. “Yeah, you’re right! You’re right! Still, I’m not going to see you for a long time. I want to wish you luck…”

“Thanks,” Nick replied gruffly. “Thanks. Now get dressed and get outta here. I’ll see ya on the other side after we break this case wide open!”

***

Chapter 2 

Nick at Tutti Frutti

His interview at Tutti Frutti was a non-event; they hired him almost on the spot. The manager, a Mr. Sparling, was a seedy-looking guy who wore eye makeup and a skin-tight shirt. At the moment, he was sucking on a cigarette on the end of a long holder as he eyed Nick up and down, finally nodding with approval.

“You just got outta prison,” he murmured, looking down at Nick’s application on his tablet computer. “That right?”

Nick grunted in affirmative, swallowing bile. He hated that the inspector had chosen the identity of ex-con for him but there was little he could do but play along. He had agreed to take the job and couldn’t change the script.

“Excellent!” Sparling purred, leaning forward in his chair and exhaling smoke in his face. Nick coughed, waving the offensive odor away. It smelled like tropical fruit or something. “We’re all about giving people a…second chance… around here.”

What the fuck does that mean? Nick wondered but opted to keep silent. He had already developed a strong dislike for the man.

“You’re hired,” the manager informed him. “And you are to call me Cookie from now on.” Nick blinked at this and he added, “As a dancer, though, not as a bouncer. You’ll start training immediately.” Nick’s mouth fell open. Sparling ignored him and motioned to a young man standing nearby. “Hey, Tyson!” he called out. “This is Nikki Baez, our newest dancer. He’ll be joining ‘Team Peach’.”

Nick stared at Mr. Sparling, er, Cookie in disbelief. Dancer? Team Peach? WTF? He was preparing to launch into a tirade when Bradley’s distorted voice chirped in his ear: >>This is great, Nick! As a dancer, you’ll be in the perfect position to observe the club! You’ll know right away if anything illicit is going on. Oh, my god! The inspector will be delighted!<<

Nick gritted his teeth. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this! A dancer at a gay club!? WTF! Exercising herculean will, though, he managed to school his features before Cookie noticed his outrage, stating ineffectually, “My name is Nick, not Nikki. And I’m not a dancer.”

Cookie waved this off. “Yeah, whatever, Nikki. Tyson here will show you the ropes, isn’t that right, boy?”

He looked up and did a double-take at the godlike youth standing before him. Nick was hetero, of course, but he wasn’t blind. Tyson was perhaps the most perfect example of youthful male beauty he’d ever seen. 

A Nick stood gaping,  spark of…something…shone in Tyson’s big, brown eyes but it was gone before he could precisely identify it. What was it? Recognition? Sadness? Fear? He didn’t know. All he did know was that it was replaced by delight a moment later as Tyson gazed down at him.

Nick couldn’t help it; he was dazzled. So dazzled, in fact, that he couldn’t resist checking the dude out. Tyson was wearing a grey, cropped t-shirt (emblazoned with the club’s logo, emojis of a banana, a pair of cherries, and a peach) that showed off his incredible abs and a tiny pair of red gym shorts that showed off his incredible legs–and significant bulge. Runway-model tall and lean, he appeared to be no more than nineteen years old and sported a perfect, bronze tan and long, sun-touched, brown hair that he kept pushed behind his ears. A red baseball cap was planted slightly askew on his head. 

>>Holy fucking shit!<< Bradley exclaimed in Nick’s ear. >>That guy’s a walking wet dream! Excuse me while I go jack off.<<

Somehow Nick managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He was beginning to realize the significant drawback to wearing an earpiece: He was a captive audience to Bradley’s commentary. He couldn’t respond without blowing his cover and there was no way for him to block out the nerd’s voice because the device was implanted in his skull.

Tyson lifted his chin slightly, distracting Nick from his thoughts, and extended a hand as he exclaimed, “Oh, wow! I’m totally stoked to have you onboard, Nikki! We’re gonna have so much fun together! C’mon! Lemme show you around!”

***

Theo at the Bullpen

A young guy dressed in a blue suit almost identical to his own was seated in a chair outside the manager’s office when Theo arrived. He stood up awkwardly, startling Theo with his significant height. Theo was was used to towering over people, not looking them directly in the eye.

“Parker Pendleton,” he announced, shaking Theo’s big hand with a big hand of his own. “I’m applying for the financial assistant position.”

Theo smiled, realizing that he already liked Parker. He was not only tall but also good looking with stylishly trimmed black hair and sparkling green eyes. Like many tall guys, he had a somewhat coltish mein, acting as if his body were too big for him. Rather than being awkward, though, he came across as endearing. Adding to this was his ability to be personable and professional at the same time, a rare combination in the business world. All in all, he decided, Parker Pendleton was a good kid.

Theo looked down at his watch as Parker withdrew his hand, asking, “Are they interviewing for the financial assistant and manager at the same time? I was told to be here at eleven.”

Parker looked down, abashed. “I got here super early. I was so worried I’d be late that I took the early bus.”

“Ah,” Theo said, nodding. “If I were them, I’d hire you for that reason alone. You can never be too punctual!”

“Well, I dunno ‘bout that,” Parker muttered. “I’m gonna be sitting here for at least another hour, I’d guess.”

Theo was formulating his response when the door to the manager’s office opened and she ushered him inside. He nodded to Parker, saying, “Good luck! I hope they hire you!”

For some reason, Parker colored and looked away before saying shyly, “Thanks, man. Thanks a lot!”

***

The Bullpen hired both Parker and Theo and they started work on the same day. The club had five locations in the city and the two men were in charge of the books for all of them. It was a big job, mostly because the organization had been without anyone in the finance department for over three months. Parker and Theo learned the first day that the previous finance manager and his assistant had departed without giving notice and left the books in shambles. It was a rough start to a new job but the guys were up to the challenge. 

It helped that they worked well together. Within a couple of weeks, they had developed a close working relationship that extended into their personal lives. Parker was new to the city, having just moved there from college, and didn’t have any friends yet. Theo, being undercover, was essentially in the same boat. It was therefore natural that they began to hang out at lunch and would even meet occasionally after work for a beer. 

Theo intentionally kept his heterosexuality a secret. His undercover identity was that of a gay man and he did his best to impersonate one. Unlike Nick, he was flattered when men hit on him and he found it cute when Parker began to subtly telegraph his affection. The boy would sit a little too close at lunch and let his gaze linger on Theo when they were in meetings. 

One day, Theo was leaning over Parker’s desk to examine a report on his computer screen when the young man hastily slid down in his chair. He was quick but not fast enough to conceal the obvious bulge of his erection plastered against his khakis. Theo’s cheeks colored and he abruptly stood up, returning to his desk.

>>He’s totally into you, dude.<< Bradley commented in his ear as he sat down. >>Why don’t you go for it. I’d tap that scrawny booty in a second!<<

Theo sighed. Like Nick, he was regretting the decision to have the earpiece embedded in his skull; Bradley made no bones about getting boned up by the guys at the Bullpen. The club, Theo had learned quickly, was known for the hulking, muscular, young guys who waited tables and bar. Each one stood at least six and half feet tall and sported a dangling nose ring, a baseball cap with bull horns attached, and a fake, tasseled cowtail. (It wasn’t called the Bullpen for nothing!) The rest of their ‘uniform’ consisted of a black jockstrap, knee-length baseball socks, and cleats. The studs sauntered around the establishment, hard bodies slicked up with oil, smiling vacantly at anyone who passed by. While Bradley and Parker obviously enjoyed the view of the muscled beasts, they did nothing for Theo. It was the price he paid for agreeing to go undercover, though. Maybe if I’m good, I’ll get assigned to a ‘pussy palace’ for my next gig, he thought sourly as he waited for Bradley to stop breathing heavily in his earpiece.

“Hey, Boss?” Parker called out behind him. “Come and look at this.”

“What is it?” Theo asked, not wanting a replay of the awkward experience of a moment ago. “Can’t you save the report on the server so I can access it from here?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” came Parker’s disappointed reply. After a pause he added, “Oh, wait. It’s probably nothing. Lemme do some more research and I’ll let you know, Ok?”

“Fine.”

Theo went back to the tedious job of forensic accounting. He was glad that he’d taken those classes back in college. At the time, he’d been bored out of his mind but now the material was invaluable. The next five hours passed before he even realized it. When he looked up at the clock and saw that it was after eight o’clock, he blinked.

“You still here, Parker?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. His stomach growled; he needed to eat something…and a beer would be nice. “Wanna go downstairs and get something to eat?” When this was met with silence, he looked behind him to find Parker’s nose buried in his computer. He smiled and repeated the question.

“What? Oh, yeah!” the boy chirped, looking up at him blearily. “Sure thing! Now that you mention it, I’m starving!”

***

Later, at their table in the bar, Theo rolled his eyes as their waiter forgot his order for the third time. “I said that I’ll have a veggie burger, yam fries, and an IPA,” he repeated, enunciating each syllable slowly. The big guy might be a muscle god, he thought, but he’s dumb as a stump. “Here,” he said testily, pulling a pen out of his pocket and handing it to the guy. “Why don’t you write that down on your order pad? That is what it’s for, isn’t it?”

The big galoot reached out and took the proffered pen, a goofy smile on his handsome, if somewhat bovine, face. Theo was impressed when the dude’s fake tail swished behind him. How’d he do that? he wondered, trying not to stare.

“Uh, yeah,” the muscle bull rumbled, turning the pen around in his hand and staring at it in wonder. “Thanks.”

When he tried writing with the wrong end, though, Theo had to work to keep the disgust out of his voice as he corrected him, saying, “Um, I think you need to turn it over and use the pointy end.”

The waiter gave him a blank look, his huge nose ring bumping against his full lips, before a light went off inside his thick head and he rotated the pen in his fingers. “Oh, yeah,” he mumbled, eyebrows lifting as if using a pen to write was an entirely new concept. “Now what’d ya say ya wanted?”

Theo buried his head in his hands and Parker stepped in, explaining the order patiently several times until he gave up and took the pad and pen from the guy and wrote it down for him. The huge man lumbered off, his big, bare, beefy ass jiggling behind him and long tail flicking idly from side to side.

>>Oh, yeah, baby! Now that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout!<< Bradley’s voice whined in his ear. >>I’d give anything to ride that bull!<< Theo pursed his lips, ignoring him.

“They’re not hired for their brains, you know,” Parker chided after the waiter was out of earshot. “It’s their other…assets…that got them through the door.”

“Jesus, that’s for sure!” Theo breathed. “I don’t know how this place rakes in the money with servers as thoopid as these guys!”

“You have to ask?” Parker said, looking around them. The club was jammed full of patrons, all busy ogling the bull men…while drinking up loads of expensive liquor. The Bullpen charged a fortune for drinks but the clientele didn’t seem to mind. “Even though I find a man’s brains at least as attractive as his brawn,” he continued, pausing significantly to eye Theo, “I wouldn’t turn down a roll in the hay with one of these animals.”

Theo flushed, looking down at the table. A lock of his hair fell down in front of his face and he was reaching up to push it out of the way when Parker beat him to it. His assistant tucked it almost lovingly behind his ear before straightening on his stool. His eyes were shining when Theo glanced up. He hurriedly looked away.

>>Shit!<< Bradley crowed. >>And I had the little pup pegged for a bottom. Guess he’s a baby top in training!<<

Theo flushed dark crimson at these words even though he had no idea what a bottom or a top was. His tongue was dry in his mouth and he had to swallow several times before he was able to croak, “Uh, Parker, I’m your boss, remember?”

The boy surprised him by reaching out and covering his hand with his own, saying in a husky voice, “Only in the office.”

“Parker,” he warned.

“Hey!” the boy said, raising his hands in the air. “No harm, no foul, Ok? I’m just putting all my cards on the table. I’ve been dying to tell you how attractive you are. I wouldn’t mind–”

Theo was spared from hearing the rest of Parker’s declaration by the arrival of their beers. The server plunked them down on the table, smiling proudly as he announced, “Yer beers, bros.”

“Uh, thanks,” Theo muttered, “But I ordered an IPA not a stout. And Parker didn’t order a beer.”

The big man’s brow furrowed and his shoulders slumped. “Oh, sorry.” 

He reached out to take back the beers but Parker stopped him, saying, “It’s Ok! Really! We’ll take ‘em just like this.”

“Totally cool, dude! Thanks!” The waiter said, favoring them with a goofy grin. He then surprised them then by adding, “Yas get a free batting lesson for that!”

Before Theo could react, the muscle bull had pushed his crotch forward onto their table. They were left gaping at the sight of the bulging pouch of his jock. It was beyond stuffed, all but ready to explode. Theo’s eyes went round and Parker licked his lips.

“Go on,” the hulking beast urged, looping his meaty thumbs under the waistband of his jockstrap. “It’s yer turn at bat!” 

With that, he flipped his pouch down and they goggled at the enormously fat and long piece of tube steak that flopped out on the table before them. Theo blinked, certain that it was fake. He wasn’t about to touch it to find out, though! 

>>HOLY FUCKING FIREHOSE!<< Bradley screamed in his ear. >>Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!<<

Unlike Theo, Parker didn’t need to be asked twice. Grinning from ear to ear, he reached out and hefted the gigantic organ in his big hand. Theo couldn’t believe his eyes. The thing was so thick that even Parker’s long fingers couldn’t reach around it. His assistant’s eyes went glassy as he stroked the behemoth, pulling the guy’s voluminous foreskin up and over his glans several times while the big galoot moaned with pleasure, even throwing back his head and letting loose a deep and sonorous moo. After a few good strokes, the waiter stopped Parker and somehow managed to stuff his giant prize back into the pouch of his jock. Thus reassembled, he sauntered away, tail raised happily behind him.

Theo was left stunned in his wake. When Parker saw the look on his face, he burst out laughing. “Still wondering why the club makes so much money, dude?”

“Jesus! I guess not!”

With effort, Theo struggled to collect himself. The sight of that massive organ made him feel more than a little inadequate. What would it be like to…? he wondered before stopping himself. No! Who cares how hung you are if you’re that stupid? Parker was right, he decided, brains were much more attractive than brawn anyday. Weren’t they?

His hand was still shaking when he took a sip of his beer and he pulled a face at the taste of stout. He fucking hated dark beer!

“Wanna drink mine instead?” Parker asked, holding out his beer. 

Theo squinted at it, noting that it looked like a pilsner, the only other beer that he hated more than a stout. “Nah, I’m good,” he said, setting his beer down. He was relieved that the erotic tension of a moment ago was gone. He had no idea how to handle being the object of his assistant’s desire! He decided to take the opportunity to move onto a different topic, asking, “Hey, what did you want to show me earlier? Did you discover something?”

Parker looked to the side before his green eyes locked onto Theo’s. “Yeah, well, maybe.” He paused to sip his beer before continuing, “Do you have any idea why the club would be trading in Bitcoin?”

Theo shook his head. “No, no idea. Definitely not standard. Maybe they have international clients?”

>>Hmmm, Bitcoin?<< Bradley commented. >>The lil’ pup might be onto sumthin’.<<

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Parker said, shrugging. “But I’m gonna stay late and look into it if that’s Ok. I’ll let you know in the morning if I find anything weird.”

“Sounds good,” Theo agreed, raising his pint glass. “Research away!”

***

Nick at Tutti Frutti

“‘Team Peach’?” Nick queried gruffly as he followed Tyson through the club. “What’d Cookie mean by ‘Team Peach’?”

Tyson shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s nothing, really. The club has three different dance groups: Banana, Cherry, and Peach. Cookie wants you on Team Peach.” He pushed through a set of double doors and continued down a long hallway, pausing at a doorway near the end. “This is the ‘headquarters’ of Team Peach. You ready?”

Nick ignored the question, asking instead, “Which team are you on?”

Tyson glanced down at the front of his shirt, saying, “See my uniform? I got all three fruits on my chest ‘cuz I’m in charge of the teams and also ‘cuz…well, I’ll explain the rest later. For now, all you need to know is I’m the floor manager, not a dancer.”

“Oh.”

The trepidation in his voice must have been audible because Tyson turned and gave him a reassuring smile, saying, “Don’t worry, Nikki! I’m here for you every step of the way. You and I will be inseparable for the next several weeks while I train you.” He paused to subtly thrust his (significant) crotch forward, adding, “I’ll have you broken in in no time!”

>>Jesus Christ!<< Bradley gasped in his ear. >>I’m leakin’ pre all over here! This guy!<<

Nick sighed, regretting his decision to take this assignment more and more all the time.

***

“…and this is Peach HQ,” Tyson announced as he pushed open the door. “They work late so the guys are just now getting up.” He paused and cast a wry smile back at Nick, adding, “After getting it up all night long, of course. Cookie only hires the best!”

What’s he mean by that? Nick wondered while struggling not to grit his teeth at Bradley’s heavy panting in his ear.

Tyson didn’t wait for a response before sauntering inside. Nick followed with no small amount of apprehension. He was so preoccupied that he was unprepared for the cloying aroma of peach that washed over him upon entering the suite. It hit him like a wall and he gagged, covering his nose and breathing through his mouth. Gradually, though, he adjusted to the assault of odor and tentatively took a look around.

Team Peach HQ was a well-appointed living space with a not-very-subtle peach decor. It’s wide-open floor plan consisted of a huge living room with loads of orange couches (upon which a half dozen young guys were reclining), a big kitchen with orange cupboards, and a long bathroom opposite the kitchen with peach-colored tiles. Nick looked askance at the bathroom when he realized it opened directly onto the living area. There were no doors. Just a long bank of open showers, a row of sinks, and a half dozen toilet stalls. At the end of the living room/kitchen/bathroom area, he spotted the entrances to what appeared to be a big gym and a sleeping area filled with rows of bunk beds.

WTF? Am I expected to live in here? he thought, suddenly panicked. I didn’t sign on for that!

Tyson must have read his mind because he turned and whispered, “In case you didn’t notice, the contract you just signed commits you to living here with the rest of the Peaches.”

Nick clenched his jaw and crossed his arms in defiance. This wasn’t what he’d signed up when he consented to going undercover! This was ridiculous!

“Lemme introduce you to your mentor,” Tyson said, ignoring his attitude and guiding him over to a couch where a sleepy-looking Latino guy was lounging. Wearing a rumpled grey sweatshirt and sporting mussed up hair, he was dividing his attention between his iPhone and a huge wide-screen TV on the far wall. Tyson moved in front of him, blocking his view of the TV, announcing, “Hey, Tommi, meet your new, best bud, Nikki. He’s moving in today.”

Tommi lifted his chin at Nick. “Welcome to Team Phat Ass,” he muttered sarcastically, “where it’s ‘bottoms up’ all night long.”

Nick blinked at this, feeling his pulse spike. (It didn’t help when Bradley commented drily >>My kinda place!<<) Beside him, Tyson reacted by laughing loudly, reaching out to slap Tommi on the shoulder as he chortled, “Oh, hahaha! Yer so funny! That’s why I love ya so much.”

Tommi rolled his eyes and went back to watching the television as Tyson pulled Nick to the side. “I’m gonna leave you here to settle in, OK?” he informed him. “Tommi’ll show you the ropes. The boys start weight training at noon, followed by lunch and dance class. You have a few hours free in the afternoon to amuse yourselves before your shift starts at eight. I’ll check in with you later to make sure you’re doing Ok.” 

With that, he strode out of the room, leaving Nick agape behind him. He had just decided that he was going to walk out of there and tender his resignation to Inspector Garcia when Tommi cleared his throat. Nick turned to see the guy smiling up at him as he extended his hand, saying, “Jesus, you looked pretty freaked out! Sorry ‘bout that. This place ain’t so bad, really. I never made more money before in my life and I get free rent. What could be better?” He shook his head, adding, “Cookie saved my big, fat ass when he hired me. ‘Course, my ass wasn’t this big or fat back then…”

Nick stared down at him in confusion. What the fuck was Tommi talking about? He certainly didn’t look fat, although his clothes were pretty baggy. Maybe under his big hoodie, he had packed on weight…?

Tommi noticed his expression and grinned apologetically. “Awww, bro! Don’t worry. You’ll get it…and get it and get it soon enough.” He held out his hand again and Nick pulled him off the couch. Tommi straightened and wandered toward the kitchen, urging,  “C’mon. Lemme show you around. I swear you’ll love it here.” Nick was surprised by how short Tommi was; the top of his head was even with Nick’s shoulders which meant he was probably only about five and a half feet tall, if that.

“This is Franki, Billi, Bobbi, and Toddi,” Tommi continued, spreading his arm to indicate the four guys splayed on the couches around them. The dudes looked up and nodded at Nick before going back to watching TV. Nick noticed that the guys were wearing the same outfit: Baggy grey sweatpants and hoodies with a peach emoji silkscreened on the front. Franki and Billi appeared to be Filipino. Bobbi was a white guy and Toddi looked like he was of Middle Eastern descent. He couldn’t tell for sure but they all appeared to be quite short, probably the same height as Tommi. “The rest of the guys are still asleep,” Tommi explained, leading Nick into the kitchen where he settled back against the counters. He regarded Nicki with a half smile for a moment before asking, “You hungry? I was about to make some breakfast.”

Nick nodded absently. The constant stench of peach permeating the atmosphere of the place was making him feel light-headed. He waved his hand in front of his face, asking, “Is there any way to get rid of the frickin’ ‘peach potpourri’ smell in here? It stinks!”

“What?” Tommi asked before understanding dawned and he smiled. “Oh, that! Nah, it’s our team’s scent, dude. Better get used to it. I don’t even smell it anymore.” 

Nick wasn’t listening. He was focused instead on a huge canister filled to the rim with vaping pens. Holy shit! he thought. These guys must vape a lot!

Tommi followed his gaze. “Ah, you noticed the Peach Pens,” he said, reaching to pull one out and offering it to him. “Wanna vape? You’re new so you’re gonna need to puff on a lot of these to get ready.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Nick said, backing up and crossing his arms. Get ready? he wondered. Ready for what?

“You’re not good until you’ve sucked on one of these babies,” Tommi pronounced, dangling the pen in front of his face.

Nick scowled and was about to bat it away when his curiosity got the better of him. He accepted the proffered pen, turning it in his fingers and examining it critically. It was filled with–what else?–peach-colored liquid. “What is it and what’ll it get me ready for?” he asked suspiciously.

Tommi shrugged. “Anyone ever tell you that you ask too many questions?”

“No.”

“Well, ya do.”

When Nick started to put the pen back, Tommi stopped him, saying, “I’m tellin’ ya. Ya gotta get started somewhere and ya might as well vape it now. It’s either the pen or the syringe an’ the pen is a lot easier. Ya gotta a job to do, man. That’s what Cookie hired ya for.”

“He hired me to be a dancer, not do drugs,” Nick corrected, flipping the pen back in the jar.

“Not exactly,” Tommi said, plucking the pen back out and shoving it into Nick’s hand, “he hired you to be Peach.”

“A Peach…?”

“Yeah, a Peach. You know what a Peach is, right?”

Nick shook his head, skin prickling with foreboding.

Tommi stared at him in disbelief. He started to shake his head and then stopped, holding up his hands and saying, “Just toke on it. It’ll all be clear soon enough.” When Nick continued to hesitate, he entreated, “Go on! It tastes real good. Once you suck on it, you’ll wonder how you ever made it this far without one in your mouth.”

Against his better judgment, Nick placed the pen to his lips and took a tentative puff. The unbelievably juicy flavor of ripe peach filled his mouth. It was so real and delicious that he smacked his lips and then all but jammed the pen back in his mouth. He took another deep drag, this time holding the vapor in his lungs as long as he could, savoring the luscious taste. 

>>Whoa, boy!<< Bradley warned. >>You don’t know what’s in that stuff. It might be addictive. You gotta stay sharp if you’re gonna–<<

“Aw, shut up!” Nick muttered before he caught himself.

Tommi blinked. “Huh?”

Nick winced. “Oh, sorry! I meant to say, ‘Shut my mouth!’”

“Oh.”

>>Great save, genius!<< Bradley teased. >>Geesh.<<

Nick ignored him and took another long drag on the pen, only exhaling when he was about ready to pass out. He was so lightheaded he had to reach out and steady himself on the counter.

“Fuckin’ delish, am I right?” Tommi remarked, a lazy smile on his face. “You feel it? The tingling? We call it the ‘Peach Fizz.’”

Nick shook himself and started to ask, “Feel what?” when he caught himself. No, it wasn’t his imagination; he could feel his body tingling. Shit, it felt amazing! “Fuckin’ A, man,” he murmured, smiling goofily. “A-fuckin’ amazin’!”

>>I think you should stop.<< Bradley squeaked. >>Now.<<

“Yeah, baby!” Tommi said, laughing. “Knew you’d love it once you tried it. Sometimes that stuff is the only thing keeping me from throwing in the towel and gettin’ out of this place. Then I have a puff, and, well, shit! Who wants to go anywhere when life is this delicious?”

Nick’s head lolled to the side. He couldn’t stop smiling. What had he been worried about? Nothing seemed more important than taking another drag on the pen. Fuuuuuuuuuck!

“The ‘Peach Fizz’ is followed by the ‘Peach Fuzz,’” Tommi continued. “‘Cuz yer head gets all fuzzy. It doesn’t last long, though. Here,” he said, reaching out to take the pen out of Nick’s hand over his strident protests, “that’s enough fer right now. You don’t wanna OD on it.”

>>Wise man.<< Bradley muttered. >>Stay the fuck away from that stuff from now on, Nick. It’s no good.<<

“Want more,” Nick gasped, trying to grab the pen away from Tommi but he was too slow. His hands didn’t seem to want to obey him and his movements were all weird. He sagged back against the counter, clutching himself forlornly.

“Awww, Nikki,” Tommi soothed, settling next to him on the counter and slinging an affectionate arm around his shoulders. (He had to stand on his tiptoes to do so.) “Don’t worry. There’s plenty more where that came from. And, hey! You’re one of the tribe now.” He turned and yelled out to the guys in the living room, “Hey, boys! Nikki just passed his initiation. He’s an official Peach! Let the changes begin!”

This announcement was met with a ragged cheer from Franki, Billi, Bobbi, and Toddi. Nick smiled proudly. It felt good to be one of the guys! It felt good to be a Peach.

***

Chapter 3

Nick at Tutti Frutti

After breakfast, Tommi presented Nick with his Team Peach loungewear, the same baggy sweats and hoodie with the peach emoji that the other guys were wearing. Nick held them up before trying them on, looking at them askance. They were plenty wide enough but…

“These are too short,” he pronounced. “Do you have any that are a size taller?”

Tommi shook his head. “Nope. One size fits all here, in case you haven’t noticed. We’re all basically the same size and shape.”

“I’m not,” Nick pointed out. “And I can’t wear these! I’ll look stupid.”

“Just put ‘em on, Nikki,” Tommi urged. “No one cares what you look like here. We’re brothers, remember?”

Nick was unconvinced but Tommi had already turned his back on him, stepping up on a stool at the sink to wash their breakfast dishes. Nick eyed the too-short sweats for a moment and then shrugged and paced into the bathroom to change.

He tried them on in a bathroom stall, the only place in Peach HQ with privacy, not because he was self-conscious of being naked in front of everyone–he knew he had a hot bod and was proud of it!–but because he was embarrassed by a certain side effect that he suspected was caused by the peach vapor he’d inhaled: He was sporting an intense erection that refused to go down. The last thing he wanted to do was strip naked in front of everyone with a huge boner!

>>Jesus fuckin’ Christ, man!<< Bradley gasped when Nick’s hardon flopped out of his boxers, heavy and fat and dripping. >>Nice piece!<<

“Thanks, bro,” Nick muttered, smiling to himself. He loved his huge cock and didn’t even mind that a faggot like Bradley admired it. Shit, mind? He fucking loved it! He waggled it before him, grinning from ear to ear as Bradley moaned in his ear.

After jacking off to an explosive climax that sadly did nothing to make his erection subside, Nick pulled on the sweats and exited the stall. Thankfully, the sweats were baggy and the material was thick, providing some cover. With a little experimentation, he realized that, if he positioned his swollen cock upward under the waistband, he could lock it in position when he cinched the drawstring of his sweats. He exhaled in relief, turning to inspect himself in the mirror. His big cock was hidden from view! Now, if he could only do something about the sweats riding up his ankles!

“Ready to lift, bud?” Tommi asked brightly as he strode back into the kitchen. “Class starts in ten minutes.”

Nick smiled. “Fuck, yeah! Let’s do it! I feel like a million fuckin’ bucks!”

***

Weight training, Nick soon discovered, consisted exclusively of variations on squats. There were kettlebell squats, wall squats, lateral squats, walking squats, and on an on. When they were done with the forty or so different sets of squats, they moved onto lunges. Nick had no idea there were so many ways to work out the glutes! He never did legs when he worked out, preferring to focus on developing his upper body and he soon found his quads, hamstrings, calves, and glutes were screaming with pain.

Tommi took pity on him, fishing around in his pocket and pulling out a vaping pen. “Here, this’ll help,” he said, offering it to Nick as he licked his lips in anticipation. “The peach helps with the aches and makes your muscles grow big and hard.” He paused, giving Nick a sly wink and murmuring, “It makes sumthin’ else grow hard, too, if ya know what I mean…”

Nick’s cheeks flamed pink. Shit, does he know? he worried, feeling suddenly panicked. He’d been really careful to keep his erection locked down! 

“You got a woody, don’t ya?” Tommi teased, folding the pen into Nick’s palm. Nick needed no further encouragement; he lifted it to his lips and sucked on it hungrily, gulping down as much of the delicious vapor as possible. When he was done, Tommi retrieved it from him and leaned back, puffing deeply. Exhaling the fragrant vapor out of the side of his mouth, he reassured, “Don’t worry. We’re all sportin’ wood under our sweats, man. You’ll get used to it after a while. It’s one of the, uh, perks of being a Peach!”

Nick smiled awkwardly, shifting his weight and shoving his hands in his hoodie to cover his crotch. He didn’t like the idea of everyone knowing he was turned on. It wasn’t…right. Was it?

Tommi watched him slyly out of the corner of his eye. “We’re all bros here, Nikki. You got nothin’ to be ashamed of and certainly nothin’ to hide. We all got the Peach curse…or gift, depending on what time of night you ask us.”

“Huh?”

Tommi reached out and mussed his hair before handing the pen back to him. “C’mon. It’s easier to show you than to explain. Let’s get cleaned up.” 

He turned and motioned for him to follow. Nick watched him go for a moment before he realized that the other Peaches were leaving the gym as well, laughing and joking with each other as they headed to the showers. After hesitating, he followed along behind them, toking on the pen and feeling his glutes scream in protest.

***

“Don’t worry, Nikki,” Tommi soothed as he reached into a shower stall and turned the spigot. He paused as he held his hand under the spray, waiting for the water to warm. “You got nothin’ hidin’ in there that we don’t see all the time. I already told ya we’re all hard, too.” 

As Nick stood watching uncertainly, Tommi pulled off his hoodie and threw it on the bench behind him before fiddling with the string of his sweatpants. His chest was defined and his smooth skin was tanned dark brown. Around him, the rest of the Peaches were removing their hoodies as well. They acted as if they stripped down naked in front of each other all the time.

Tommi bent over and pulled down his sweats. Straightening, he pointed down at his crotch, saying, “See? My little soldier’s at attention, too!”

Nick goggled and Bradley exclaimed, >>Little is right! Shit! I’ve never seen a cock that tiny!<<

Nick didn’t hear him. He was too busy gaping at Tommi’s size–or, more specifically, the lack of it. If he was hard, it didn’t show because, well, let’s just say there was no easy way to distinguish the state of his arousal.

Oblivious to his shock, Tommi urged, “You’re turn. Show us what you got down there! Show us! Show us! Show us!”

The other Peaches joined in and soon the shower room was ringing with their chanting. “Show us! Show us! SHOW US! SHOW US!” echoed off the peach-colored tiles and reverberated against Nick’s chest. He looked around and did a double take when he saw that every last one of his fellow Peaches sported a baby dick and shriveled pair of balls hiding between his legs. They were all shaved smooth, too, making them look almost prepubescent.

>>Holy midgets, Batman!<< Bradley chortled. >>Guess this makes you Snow White, huh?<<

Nick ignored him. He was acutely aware of his size–both his height and the monster lurking hard and heavy in his sweats–and froze as he pondered what to do next. Finally, Tommi got tired of waiting and stepped forward to wrestle with the drawstring of his sweats, trying to force him to strip down. Nick growled in frustration, pushing his hands away.

“Stop it!” he shouted, anger rising. “I can do it myself!” 

Maybe it was another side effect of the peach vapor or maybe it was his repressed fury at Inspector Garcia for talking him into taking this stupid assignment but rage washed over him as he stood there surrounded by all of those tiny men with their laughably tiny dicks. The sheer unreality of his current situation–Team Peach? A dancer at a gay club? A mandatory residence contract? WTF?–overwhelmed him.

Shoulders shaking, he stepped back, violently tugging off his hoodie and exposing his magnificently muscled and hairy chest. He threw the jacket at Tommi, spitting, “You boys wanna see a real man, huh? HUH? Well, here ya go!”

He tugged his sweats down with one sharp motion and his mighty cock sprang out. The rest of the Peaches gaped at his huge erection bobbing up and down, pointing stiff and straight in front of him. At more than nine inches long and a foot in girth, it put their ridiculous endowments to shame. He spread his arms, thrusting his crotch lewdly forward, waggling his erection and staring with pride down at the dense thatch of black pubic hair carpeting his groin and his big pair of low-hanging balls flopping from side to side. 

“See? See?” he goaded. “Take a good, long, hard look ‘cuz you’ll never know what this feels like.”

>>Somehow, I don’t think that was wise.<< Bradley reproved. >>I think you hurt their feelings.<< 

Nick shook his head, wishing fervently he could tell the stupid faggot to go fuck himself. He was sick and tired of hearing the fuckwad talk inside his head!

Tommi was the first to recover. Giving Nick a wounded look, he hissed, “Enjoy it while you can, asshole! You’re a Peach now, too.” He stepped into his shower stall, turning his back on him. 

Nick’s sharp retort died in his throat, though, when his gaze landed on Tommi’s backside. The baggy sweatpants, he realized then, had been hiding something far worse than the guy’s nonexistent cocklet.

Even Bradley was uncharacteristically at a loss for words. >>What the…?<< he sputtered, his voice trailing off.

Nick couldn’t help it. His jaw dropped and he forgot for the moment that he was standing naked and sporting a huge erection in full public view. The back of his neck grew hot as he watched the remaining Peaches one by one follow Tommi’s lead and step into their shower stalls, turning their backs to him.

This is not possible! This is not possible! This is not possible! A voice repeated in his head. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, though, he was met with the same unbelievable sight as, too late, he understood why his team was called ‘Team Peach.’

Every single one of the Peaches had the biggest, roundest, jiggliest, and fattest ass he’d ever seen on a guy.

***

“Where are you going?”

Nick turned and saw Tyson bearing down on him from the across the club. His shoulders sagged. He’d hope to make his escape without being seen. He was planning to go directly back to Inspector Garcia and tender his resignation from the force. There was no way he could do this job! In fact, his desire to be a detective had all but disappeared. He was determined to quit the force and go back to college. He was still young; he could learn a new career. Maybe something in the tech sector…

“Where are you going?” the young guy repeated, coming to a stop before him.

>>Uh, oh<< Bradley’s voice chirped. >>Busted!<<

Nick stared up at the big, handsome guy. Tyson’s brown eyes were fixed onto his own, brows lifting with concern. Nick swallowed and took a step backward…and his back touched the wall. He was trapped.

“You’re not leaving already, are you?”

Tyson’s deep voice was soft yet commanding. For such a young dude, he sure had a way of asserting himself. Nick shook his head, uncertain why he did so. Why didn’t he just tell Tyson to go fuck himself?

“Oh, good,” Tyson said, face brightening. “‘Cuz I really like you.” He paused, allowing the tension to grow between them before repeating, “I really, really like you.”

Nick’s heart was hammering inside his chest. He willed himself to move away from the guy, to push him aside and continue on his way out the front door of the Tutti Frutti. But…but… Shit! Tyson was just so fucking mesmerizing! His beautiful, brown eyes. His full, luscious lips. His perfectly symmetrical face that was both soft and chiseled at the same time. And his ripped bod, all but bursting out of his scanty uniform.

He shook his head, trying to clear it. What was going on with him? He didn’t like guys! He was into chicks! He was a big, muscular, hetero stud! He wasn’t a fag!

While his mind whirred, Tyson took advantage of his distraction and lifted his hands, pressing them against the wall on either side of Nick’s head. Before he could react, he had pushed against him, all but grinding his tumescent crotch into Nick’s tumescent crotch. (His cock was still so fiercely erect that it was beginning to hurt.)

When Tyson kissed him, he didn’t resist. He couldn’t! He was completely helpless, completely in the big man’s thrall. His mouth opened and Tyson was inside. Tyson was inside him before he knew what was happening!

>>Ungh.<< was Bradley’s only comment. Nick was vaguely aware of a telltale fapping sound coming through his earpiece and he couldn’t blame the guy for rubbing one out right then. He was about ready to explode himself.

Tyson’s mouth tasted of fruit and steel, twin flavors that would normally have seemed antithetical but in the case of the studly floor manager, they worked. They really worked! Nick opened his mouth wider, using his tongue to plum the delicious depths of Tyson’s throat. He couldn’t get enough of him!

The stud indulged him for a while before lifting his lips away. “Here,” he ordered, moving Nick’s hands down to his ass. “Take me.”

Nick did!

He grabbed that amazingly full and muscular ass in his hands and kneaded it almost violently, pulling Tyson against him. He moaned in ecstasy as the young man’s huge, hard tool dueled with his own huge, hard tool–and won! Shit, that cock! That fucking cock! It was even bigger than his!

They ground savagely against each other in an almost barbaric frenzy. Tyson stopped him, though, when he tried to pull down his shorts. Pushing away, he wagged his finger, saying, “Not yet. After your shift tonight. Don’t let anyone else take you.” He paused, his eyes boring into Nick’s. “You understand?”

Nick didn’t. He really didn’t!

Tyson smiled at his confusion and he pressed into him again, letting his hands slide down to Nick’s butt. His fingers rested for a moment on the waistband of his sweats and he teasingly kissed him before moving his hands down, down, down until his big hands were cupping Nick’s ass cheeks.

“Your ass virginity,” Tyson breathed, turning his head and nibbling his ear. “Is mine and mine alone. Got it?”

Nick nodded. He got it. Oh, did he ever get it!

And he wanted it. He wanted it so badly!

“Good.”

With that, Tyson pushed himself off and stalked away, leaving an incredibly turned on and confused Nick behind him.

***

“Tyson found you, didn’t he?”

Nick looked up at Tommi from his bunk and nodded. He was sitting there in the communal sleeping area, head spinning and heart doing strange flips in his chest. He had no idea why he felt the way he did. He’d never…well, you know, with a guy before. It wasn’t…well, it wasn’t…it wasn’t…

Tommi plopped down beside him on the bed, leaning into him with his shoulder. “I know how you feel, bud. I really do. In fact, every Peach here has been through the same thing. It’s what makes us brothers, you know.”

Nick gave him a blank look.

Tommi smiled, reaching out to muss his hair. “I’m sorry about earlier, bro,” he said. “I shouldn’t of pushed you like that. I was asking for it. Sometimes I forget what it was like before…”

“Before what?”

Tommi leaned back on his elbows and was silent for a long time, considering his reply. When he spoke, his voice sounded distant, almost wistful. “I am a felon like you, Nikki. I applied for work  all over this fucking city until Cookie took pity on me and hired me. Sometimes I wish he hadn’t. Sometimes I wish I’d walked away and kept looking but I was desperate for work. My family had disowned me. My girlfriend had a restraining order against me. I never even got to see my kids after I got out. I was a ruined man, Nikki. I’ve never been so low.” He looked away and when Nick turned, he saw that the guy was shaking with the effort of holding back his tears.

“Sorry.”

Tommi took a shuddering breath and sat back up. “S’Ok, dude. I know you get me. You’re my brother after all. ‘Course you get me!”

For some reason, Nick felt touched by this and he slung his arm over Tommi’s shoulders. The smaller man went rigid for a moment before relaxing into his embrace. They sat like that for a long time until Tommi straightened.

“I walked in here a straight guy with a normal-sized ass and a bigger than average cock,” he said, not looking at Nick. “I never craved cock in my life. Fuck, even in prison my ass was a steel trap! Nobody ever took advantage of me! But now…” his voice trailed off and he stared into space for a time before concluding with a sigh, “Well, that’s all in the past. Team Peach is my family now. And they are the best fucking group of guys I’ve ever known. It’s worth it. Yeah, it’s totally fucking worth it!”

Nick didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His brain was incapable of anything right then. It was like Tommi was speaking a foreign language.

>>I wonder what’s going on there?<< Bradley mused. >>This definitely doesn’t seem right. Something’s up with that club, Nick. Be careful! Stay away from that Tyson guy and don’t smoke any more of that peachy shit, Ok?<<

Nick barely heard him. He was so drained that it took everything he had just to sit there. When Tommi got up from the bed and looked down at him, he didn’t move.

“I know what’ll make us both feel better,” the squat, little man announced. “A peach-sicle! Stay right here and I’ll grab us some. It’s just about time anyway. Our shift starts in an hour and we need to be juiced up!”

***

Tommi returned carrying two popsicles. When Nick reached out, Tommi backed away from him, teasing, “Uh, uh. Ya gotta follow me if you wanna get yours.” He turned and swaggered out of the room, leaving Nick watching his huge ass sway behind him. Shrugging, he got up and followed him into the bathroom.

“Strip.” Tommi commanded when he stood before him at the row of sinks. When Nick hesitated, he waved the peach popsicle in front of his face, tempting, “Ya want this, don’t ya?”

Nick inhaled. The delicious aroma of ripe peach was overpowering. His mouth watered and he found himself nodding his head vigorously.

Tommi smiled. “Then get naked. Now.”

Nick did.

In a matter of seconds, he was standing before Tommi much like he had earlier with his huge, dripping erection pointing proudly before him. He was vaguely aware of the rest of the Peaches watching them from the living room. Somehow, though, this only turned him on more. He reached for the popsicle.

“Suck on it,” Tommi instructed, “SLOWLY! I know the flavor is intoxicating but you gotta lick it slowly or you’ll get a, well, let’s just say you’ll get a head freeze and I’m not talkin’ ‘bout the one between your shoulder blades.”

He handed over the popsicle and Nick stuffed it in his mouth, instantly forgetting Tommi’s warning. The explosion of peach flavor on his taste buds overwhelmed him and he would have choked on the thing if Tommi hadn’t intervened and pulled it out of his mouth.

“Hey!” he chastised. “I told ya to take it slow! Now don’t be a bad boy or I’ll have to spank you.” He winked and handed the popsicle back to Nick who did his best to restrain himself. He stuck out his tongue and lapped on the delectable treat.

While Nick licked away on the peach-flavored dream, Tommi busied himself at the sink, producing a pair of clippers and pulling over a stool. He then pushed Nick down and commenced trimming his hair. First, he brushed his thick locks forward and then gave him a really high and tight fade. He finished by fixing it in place with some gel. When Nick looked up at himself in the mirror, he was surprised by how young and…vulnerable…he appeared after a simple trim.  Thick, black bangs hung down in front of his brown eyes which seemed even bigger and browner than they had before. He pushed them away and looked up at Tommi to find the guy down at him, admiring his handiwork.

“Super cute!” he pronounced. “Shit, I’m a great stylist, if I do say so myself!” He paused to slurp loudly on his own popsicle before setting it aside. “Now stand up and I’ll take care of that body hair once and for all.”

Nick went rigid. “What? No!”

Tommi ignored him. Instead, he pulled down his own sweatpants and, tossing them aside, yanked off his hoodie. In a moment, he was standing completely naked before Nick, his smooth, dark skin glowing lustrously in the soft light. Nick couldn’t help ogling his tiny dicklet, seeing that it really was erect. The size of a peanut, sure, but most decidedly erect. Tommi’s huge thighs didn’t help much; they were so pumped and swollen that, even if his cock had been normal-sized, it would have appeared small.

Tommi noticed his stare and thrust his crotch forward, shimmying his hips and laughing, “You’re looking at a fully ripe Peach right here, man! Team Peach doesn’t get any better than this!”

Nick could only nod dumbly. He was mesmerized by the languid sway of Tommi’s thighs. When he turned around and wiggled his giant ass in Nick’s face, it was almost a religious experience. 

Bradley thought so, too, panting,  >>Jesus! Would ya look at that! That’s an ass right there!<<

Tongue hanging out of his mouth, Nick reached out for it but Tommi sidestepped him, laughing, “Oh, no, ya don’t! Not until ya let me remove all that nasty body hair.”

“But…”

“Up, up, up,” Tommi ordered, pulling Nick off the stool. “I’m always telling Tyson that we should be called ‘Team Nectarine,’” he quipped, “‘cuz peaches at least have some fuzz on ‘em!” 

He brandished the clippers and Nick reluctantly complied, sticking his yummy peach-sicle in his mouth as he held out his arms and spread his legs. Tommi made short work of his beloved body hair; in moments, it was lying in a black mat at his feet. He stared down at himself bemused. He looked so different without hair! And what had happened to his dick?

>>What the…?<< Bradley breathed. >>How’s that even possible? Woah.<<

“Your foreskin’s the first thing to go,” Tommi explained, following his gaze. “And it looks like your cock’s already a couple of inches shorter, too.”

Nick blinked, feeling his chest clench. Tommi wasn’t lying. His formerly long, droopy foreskin had retracted behind his glans! He reached down and frantically tried to pull it back over but it was too short. Way too short. In fact, he really couldn’t be said to possess a foreskin any longer. And then there was his size…

Panic-stricken, he jacked himself furiously, trying to make his organ regain its former heft and size but it was no use. He was already rock hard and yet his magnificent piece couldn’t have measured more than seven inches long. And it was a lot skinnier!

“It’s inevitable, dude,” Tommi soothed, placing a warm hand on his shoulder. “Just go with it. You’ll be happier if you don’t fight it. Here,” he coaxed, removing the popsicle stick from Nick’s mouth; in his agitation, he’d swallowed the last of it. “I’ll get you another. Normally, we’re limited to one a day but the new guys always get two on their first night.” He padded away, leaving Nick staring down at his denuded bod and diminished member in horrified disbelief.

***

Nick sucked forlornly on his second popsicle as Tommi finished his work by massaging a depilatory cream into his skin. “This makes the hair loss permanent,” he explained, even though Nick was so lost that he barely heard him. “And it softens your skin, too.” He squeezed more of the cream into his hands and, standing up on the stool, rubbed it gently onto Nick’s face. Nick blinked at his reflection in the mirror; he was covered head-to-toe with gloppy, white lotion. He bit off more of his popsicle, sucking it down in the attempt to distract himself from his misery.

He didn’t resist when Tommi moved him into one of the shower stalls and lovingly rinsed the cream from his body. He stood there, numb with disbelief. The unreality of his situation hit him once again, just as it had after weight training, only this time it left him in a grey stupor. Nothing that was happening to him made sense. There was no way it was real. It had to be just one, long, crazy, fucked up dream!

Bradley, apparently, felt the same way because he was silent for a long time before commenting, >>Dude, I’m sorry. I’m gonna go take a nap. I’m pretty sure I’m hallucinating right now. I have been up for more than twenty hours after all. I’ll be back again in the morning. Be safe. Don’t let ‘em give you any more crazy drugs, Ok?<<

Nick nodded dully. There was a click in his ear and then Bradley was gone.

***

“It’s kicking in.”

Nick looked up from his delirium. Tommi was drying him off with a soft towel, lovingly caressing his skin with the tenderest of motions.

“Huh?”

Tommi’s face broke into a radiant smile. He looked different somehow but Nick couldn’t quite figure out why. “Hey, stud,” his friend urged. “Go look at yourself in the mirror. The peach-sicle’s finally working.”

Nick stumbled over to the mirrors, feeling like something was off. His body felt odd. Too light in some ways and too heavy in others. He realized that the popsicle had made him really thirsty and he dipped his head into the sink, drinking water directly from the tap. It tasted good and it helped clear his head.

When he looked up and saw his reflection in the mirror, he let out a startled yelp and then clapped his mouth shut at the sound of his voice. His usual baritone had risen an octave. He sounded so young!

And he looked even younger.

“Fucking shit!” he cried, hating the sound of his voice. “What’d you do to me?”

He almost didn’t recognize the youth staring back at him. The long bangs, the big, brown eyes, the cherry lips, the button nose, the round cheeks, the flawless skin. He looked like he was eighteen years old again. When he lowered his gaze and saw the rest of his body, he almost fainted. His magnificent chest–the pecs he’d worked so hard on–was gone. He now had slim shoulders and a narrow torso. A narrow, hairless torso, that is.

“FUCK!”

“Honey, it’s only temporary,” Tommi chirped at his side; his voice as at least an octave higher as well. “Well, mostly. The longer you’re here and the more popsicles you lick, the more permanent your changes become.”

Nick stared at him uncomprehendingly. Dimly, he was aware that Tommi had changed as well. He looked up at Nick with wide eyes, to all appearances a young and innocent teenage boy. Just like Nick, his chest was slimmer and his skin was free of blemishes. He was extremely cute, Nick realized, shifting uncomfortably. And that cuteness was having a definite effect on him…

“Can you believe I’m forty years old?” Tommi queried in his new, lilting voice. “I guess that’s one part of being a Peach that isn’t so bad. We never have to worry ‘bout growing old!”

Nick wasn’t listening. His shock at his body’s changes dissolved in a flash as he took in the sight of Tommi’s lithe and lissome body. Forgetting his confusion and malaise and horror, he licked his (new, fuller) lips, and took a step toward him, feeling his cock rear up, reinvigorated. It might be smaller but it had never felt harder!

Belatedly, Tommi registered the shift in Nick’s mood. He didn’t seem to mind the way that Nick was devouring him with his eyes, though. No, if anything, he welcomed it. Tossing his head, he favored Nick with a beatific smile, purring, “Finally! And I thought I wouldn’t get a chance to ride that cock before it shrinks down to nothing. C’mon! Pound my boi pussy! I’m already wet.”

Nick did.

In a distant part of his mind, he was aware that he wasn’t a guy who fucked other guys. He was straight and only liked fucking women. Sticking his cock in guy’s asshole was disgusting. It wasn’t something he did. It wasn’t something he ever wanted to do. Only a day ago, the act would have made him sick to his stomach.

Now, though, things were different.

Tommi bent over before him, hands clutching the sink as he spread his short legs wide. His voluptuous ass cheeks parted and Nick got a cock’s eye view of the delicious hole buried within. Tommi hadn’t lied; it was all slicked up and ready for him. He grabbed the boy/man by the waist and shoved his throbbing pole into those huge, sensuous cheeks, eyes rolling back in his head as they parted, inviting him within. His newly-exposed glans rested for the briefest moment against Tommi’s rosebud before he bent his knees and bucked forward, driving his cock deep inside.

Tommi screamed.

And screamed again.

And kept screaming in delirious ecstasy as Nick took him again and again and again. He pummeled those divine pillows into oblivion. Tommi’s ass was so big and soft that Nick lost himself into the bliss of pounding the living fuck out that phat ass. Tommi was a peach, alright. A firm, round, juicy, deliciously ripe peach ready for the plucking…and fucking.

When he exploded inside that hot hole, he felt Tommi writhe in orgasm beneath him. They stayed locked together for a long time, their bodies thrumming with scintillations of pleasure as sweat poured off their bodies. Finally, Tommi exhaled and sagged down, lowering his head into the sink and turning on the spigot to drench his sweaty head.

“Fucking incredible!” he breathed, looking back over his shoulder at Nick. “I’m honored to be your last fuck ever. By morning, your cock will be so short that you’ll never be able to do that again.”

*** 

Chapter 4

By the time his shift began, Nick’s cock had shrunk another four inches even as his ass and thighs had ballooned in an inverse proportion. He stared down at his hairless, boy dick in consternation, feeling the weight of his buttocks hanging heavily behind him. The last time his dick had been this little, he’d been eleven years old. And his ass had never–even at his heaviest weight during his football days in college–been remotely this huge.

He hung his head, feeling his vaunted masculinity all but draining out of him.

Who was he now?

He certainly wasn’t the virulent stud who had walked into Tutti Frutti. Was it really only ten hours ago? How could his body and sexual orientation have changed like this? It couldn’t be possible! It had to be one really fucked up nightmare!

“You’ll get used to it, baby,” Tommi trilled beside him. 

Nick looked askance at him, noticing with defeat another change: He was now only an inch or two taller than Tommi. What?! He was getting shorter, too? How the fuck was this happening to him?

Ignoring his foul mood, Tommi slapped him playfully on the ass and Nick winced as he felt the impact reverberate through his new, massive cheeks like a shockwave. His butt had always been solid and square. A man’s ass! Now it was…

“Nikki!” Tommi chirped, shoving something into his hands. “Hey, Nikki! I’m tellin’ ya, don’t sweat it! Your superpower is being a Peach now. Just wait til the guys out there see you!”

Nick didn’t answer. He looked mournfully down at the object in his hands. It was a brown paper package. It felt light. He squeezed it, realizing it was also soft. He reluctantly unwrapped it and stared down at the contents. Inside were three articles of clothing, all peach-colored.  There was a jockstrap with enormously long straps, a miniscule pair of nylon shorts, and a leather harness.

“Our uniform,” Tommi explained. “Time to get suited up!”

Nick belatedly noticed that his little friend had donned his. The shorts were so tiny that more than half of Tommi’s mounded buttocks hung out the bottom, cupped salaciously by the wide straps of his jock. He looked both radiant and ridiculous, a hypersexualized caricature of a boyish sex kitten. His face was flushed a rosy pink, his eyes shining brightly and his lips shimmering with glittery gloss. As Nick stared, Tommi combed his bangs down in front of his eyes before pushing them aside. Seeing that Nick was watching, he winked slyly. Nick looked beyond him into the living room and saw that the rest of the Peaches were similarly attired. He sighed and bent over, stepping into the jock.

It fit his new booty and shrunken package perfectly, hugging his ass cheeks while giving a gentle lift. His little dick was nestled inside the pouch, barely touching the silky fabric. He hung his head while Tommi helped him into the harness, raising it when prompted so that his friend could dab gloss on his lips.

“You look so fucking juicy, Nikki!” he squealed when he was finished, clapping his hands together and jumping up and down, his giant ass jiggling obscenely behind him. “OMG, we could be twins!”

Nick blinked, looking in their reflection in the mirror, and realized it was true. He and Tommi now shared the same basic body shape (more pear-shaped, though, than peach-shaped, he thought sourly.) On top of that, they sported similar haircuts and possessed the same rounded, almost elfin facial features. Yes, if you didn’t know better, you would mistake them for twins. Twin freaks with twin peaks in back, he thought, shoulders slumping in defeat.

“Oh, Nikki,” Tommi cajoled, slinging an arm over his narrow shoulders. “Just wait til ya get out on the dancefloor! You’ll see. Being a Peach is a privilege and an honor.”

***

Following behind the rest of the team, Tommi led Nikki out of Peach HQ and down the long hallway. The beat of dance music was muffled at first but grew in intensity, becoming increasingly irresistible as the bass pounded against his sternum. By the time Tommi ushered him through the double doors and out onto the dancefloor, he was unable to resist shaking his booty. There was something infectious about the music that induced a state of near euphoria. He could feel his foul mood burning off like so much grey fog as he and Tommi shimmied their enormously fat bottoms before the cheering throngs of patrons.

The Peaches were a huge hit.

That night, Nikki learned that Team Peach was a star attraction at Tutti Frutti. Sure, people came to ogle the acrobatic antics of Team Cherry and and the magnificently endowed Team Banana, but it was the Peaches who ruled the dancefloor with their incredibly phat and sexy asses. No one else could shake like them. No one else could bounce, jiggle, and shimmy with such irresistible allure. The Peaches were on fire. The Peaches were the juicy fruit everyone desired.

Tommi jumped up on a wide pedestal before reaching down to hoist Nikki up behind him. The spotlights descended upon them and a drag queen from a distant stage introduced them to the cheering crowd. Nikki blinked, feeling the beat slam against him like a passionate lover. He smiled shyly, brushing his bangs aside and smiling down shyly at the crowds of men at his feet.

“C’mon, baby!” Tommi urged. “Let’s dance!”

With that, he thumped his huge booty against Nikki’s and they commenced wowing the crowd with their moves. Nikki worried at first that he wouldn’t know what to do but he followed Tommi’s lead and soon discovered that no one cared how he danced so long as he shook his giant ass as much as possible. He could feel it flopping up and down, up and down, up and down, in time with the music, a huge, foreign weight behind him. Over time, though, he grew accustomed to it and even started to embrace it as his own, looking back almost lovingly at his ballooning globes. He had a booty! He had a booty! He had a booty! 

He and Tommi worked up a sweat, writhing and squatting and shaking and jumping before the throngs of cheering and undulating fans. At one point, he looked out and was mesmerized by the scene before him. The club was awash with men, all crowded around the pedestals spaced regularly across the dancefloor. His fellow Peaches writhed atop the pedestals, juicy bottoms illuminated by flashing spotlights. The air thrummed with desire…directed wholly and completely at the Peaches. Tommi was right, Nikki realized then, being a Peach was a privilege and an honor. Why had he not recognized that before? He smirked, thrusting his hips back and gazing down with pride at his adoring fans. They roared in appreciation and he felt his heart open in a way that was entirely new. Tears filled his eyes.

He was a Peach and he was a member of a very special tribe.

Team Peach.

He was home!

When the music stopped at the end of their set, Nikki looked down in amazement at the piles of money scattered about their feet. Tommi squatted down to collect the bills (much to the collective delight of the crowd) and shoved them all into Nikki’s hands, ordering, “Stuff ‘em in yer pouch!”

Nikki did so, pleased that the wads of money made it look like he had a bulge again. He was wondering how he would climb down off the pedestal when a deep voice rumbled, “Here, bro. You’ve earned yerself a beer after that performance.”

He looked down to see a broad-shouldered, barrel-chested guy with twinkling blue eyes and a bushy brown beard holding a pint glass up to him. The guy was young, probably in his early twenties and was decked out in flannel and tight jeans tailor made to show off his muscles and significant package. Heart pounding, Nikki brushed his bangs out of his eyes and smiled down at him uncertainly before looking over his shoulder at Tommi.

“Go on, Nikki!” he urged, giving him the thumbs up. “We’re encouraged to mingle with the guests. We have a ten-minute break anyway.”

The man held out his other hand and helped Nikki off the pedestal, handing him the beer after his dismount. Nikki accepted it gratefully, taking a small sip and staring thankfully up at his admirer. He was reminded again how much he had shrunk; with his new, diminished stature, his head only reached the man’s pecs. 

Shit! The guy was so big! He towered over him, making him feel both insignificant and… Nikki paused as he struggled to recognize the emotion. It wasn’t one that he had felt in the presence of another man before and it took him a moment to put his finger on it. When he did, he flushed.

Safe.

He felt safe. 

Being so close to such a big man who obviously adored him made him feel safe.

He shivered, blinking back tears. He brushed them away when he realized the guy was watching him closely, handsome face clouded with concern. Nikki smiled, waving off his emotional outburst. “Thank you,” he cooed before clearing his throat, not recognizing the sound of his own voice. Nothing he did made a difference, though; his voice was permanently stuck in a higher register.

His silky, high voice didn’t seem to bother his benefactor. Quite the opposite! The man reacted with visible delight when he spoke. “God! Yer so fuckin’ gorgeous!” he said with feeling. I didn’t know a guy could be so perfect!”

Nikki looked down at the floor, smiling demurely and murmuring, “Thanks.”

“Got a name?”

Nikki nodded.

“Well…?” the man prompted in an amused tone.

“I’m Nikki!” he chirped, giggling.

“Delicious,” the man murmured, his deep voice somehow carrying over the beat as the music resumed. The crowd began dancing around them and Nikki didn’t resist when the guy took him by the arm and led him off the floor to a table. “My name’s Bart,” he said, inclining his head as he held out a stool for Nikki. “And I’m in love.”

Nikki flushed pink and took another sip of his beer while shyly checking out his new friend. Bart, he realized then, was perhaps one of the studliest guys he’d ever met and he felt himself go weak in the knees even as he wondered at these powerful, new feelings washing over him. He’d never found guys attractive before, much less swooned in front of them. Now, though, there was no denying the desire he felt for Bart. He could feel his little nublet perk up against the wads of bills stuffed into his pouch.

“Nikki,” Bart said, testing the name out on his tongue and smiling. “Nikki, I know this is quick but may I kiss you?”

Nikki didn’t think, he placed his beer down on the table and hopped off the stool. Standing up on his tiptoes, he puckered up. He didn’t need to be asked twice!

Bart let out a low chuckle, getting off his own stool and stalking over to him like a big, hungry bear. Nikki sighed with delight when he took him in his burly arms and hugged him close. Bart’s wondrous bulges, ridges, and mounds pressed against him as he lowered his head and kissed him tenderly. Nikki tittered when Bart’s beard scratched his face and he opened his mouth. 

It was almost a chaste kiss with just a slip of tongue but it left Nikki hungering for more and he opened his mouth wider as Bart slid his calloused hands down to cup his ass cheeks. A tremor of delight passed through Bart’s hulking body and Nikki moaned. Bart’s fingers slipped between the straps of his jock and he squeezed.

“Fuckin’ heaven,” Bart growled. “Pure fuckin’ heaven!”

Nikki jumped in surprise the next moment when Bart’s hands moved covertly deeper and the tips of his index fingers brushed his tender hole.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. Then, “Do it again!”

Bart exhaled deeply, grinding his rapidly hardening crotch against Nikki’s belly. Before he could comply with this request, though, a heavy arm settled over Nikki’s shoulders and he cried out as he was yanked unceremoniously out of Bart’s embrace. Both he and Bart looked up at the interloper in confusion.

An enormously tall and muscular man decked out in a black leather harness, black chaps, and a black leather cap with a banana emoji jauntily embroidered on the bill was standing between them. If Nikki had thought Bart was big, he was a pipsqueak compared to this hulking specimen of manhood. “Hey,” the muscle beast warned Bart menacingly. “You can look but don’t touch.”

Bart went pale and lifted his hands placatingly before turning on his heel and hastily departing. Nikki watched him go with a mixture of disappointment and irritation. He wanted more! He fucking wanted more of everything Bart was offering! He thrust out his lower lip and pouted.

The man in black watched him impassively with crossed arms and a sardonic smile on his handsome face. He opened his mouth but Tommi pushed through the crowd before he could speak, saying, “Thanks, Max! I forgot to tell Nikki about the club rules. Glad you came by when you did!”

The enormous man nodded. “No prob,” he boomed. “Just doin’ my job.” He paused and winked down at Nikki, adding, “And welcome aboard, Nikki! I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot more of you soon enough.”

Max was turning to go when Nikki caught a glimpse of the open crotch of his chaps. (He didn’t know how he’d missed seeing it before then because his gaze was practically level with the man’s waist.) His jaw dropped and he took a step backward. A veritable horse cock hung down nearly to Max’s knees, thick as a firehose and covered by a long, tapering foreskin. Nikki’s eyes went round as he tried to fathom how a man could possibly possess a piece that huge. He was so taken aback that it took him awhile to realize that Tommi was laughing at him.

“They don’t call ‘em Team Banana for nothin’,” he joked between bursts of giggles. “But seriously,” he added after he’d managed to collect himself, “The Bananas are a Peach’s best friend. If we’re the sheep, then they are the shepherds who shelter us from the wolves. It’s their job to make sure the patrons don’t take advantage of us.”

Nikki shook himself, still in shock from the sight of that dangling monstrosity. Finally, he managed to squeak, “But Bart wasn’t taking advantage of me! He was just being nice!”

Tommi regarded him for a moment before saying, “Maybe. He didn’t seem like a bad dude but ya never know. That’s why it’s club policy that no one touches the Peaches. We’re not fruit in the produce aisle that people can grope and pinch and fondle!” He was about to say more when the drag queen emceeing the night’s festivities announced the next act; Team Cherry was about to take the stage. Tommi held up his hand, pulling Nikki over to an open spot on the dancefloor, saying, “Ya don’t wanna miss this! The Cherries are unbelievable!”

Nikki watched breathlessly as a slender man wearing only a long, red stocking cap, and the tiniest of red thongs, strode out on stage. He was juggling five red balls, tossing them high in the air and catching them easily as the crowd cheered. While the way the guy juggled the red balls was impressive, it was nothing compared to jiggling of the impressive pair of balls hanging between his legs. The crowd roared.

“Holy fucking shit!” Nikki breathed in astonishment.

The young guy possessed the biggest, roundest, heaviest pair of balls he’d ever seen. The sheer red thong was stretched to near transparency as it strained to contain his testicles. They flipped and flopped and otherwise cavorted between his legs as he thrust his hips forward, body slicked with sweat and chest heaving with the effort of keeping so many balls in the air at once. As Nikki stared, another juggler and then another appeared on stage, similarly attired and sporting even bigger pairs of low hangers. Soon all three were swapping balls back and forth, their crotches gyrating and testicles whipping back and forth with increasing fervor.

The crowd was entranced. The music cut off and silence reigned throughout the club. The only sound was the huffing and puffing from the Cherries (and more carnal slapping of their testicles) as they juggled themselves and their bull balls to increasingly astounding heights. By this time, the stage was crammed with more than a dozen thong-wearing hotties and balls were flying seemingly everywhere.

“That’s gotta hurt,” Nikki murmured as he watched the guys’ huge balls swinging up and down, slamming against their taut bellies in front and then smacking against the top of their full asses in back. 

“They’re not feeling any pain,” Tommi said, winking. “Team Cherry’s popsicles are spiked with a potent narcotic and tons of hormones. The combination makes their balls swell while dulling their nerves.”

“Oh.”

“The best part comes later,” Tommi added, catching the hungry glimmer in Nikki’s eye, “when the teams mingle after close. If yer nice to ‘em, the Cherries with treat ya to a teabaggin’ you’ll never forget!”

Nikki’s face scrunched up. “‘Teabagging?’” he repeated. “What’s that.”

“You’ll find out,” Tommi replied, smiling. “You’ll find out…”

***

Chapter 5

Nikki at the Tutti Frutti

Cookie found him at the end of his shift as the teams were heading into the back for the traditional after-party when they mingled, flirted, and otherwise let off steam. After his exultant debut on the dancefloor, the pouch of his jock stuffed full to bursting with cash, Nikki felt like he was drifting on a radiant cloud. Already, his life before the Tutti Frutti seemed hazy and insubstantial, almost like it had happened to another man. A macho police detective? Ha! Had that ever really been who he was? He giggled at the thought. It seemed so unbelievable.

“Good job out there tonight, Nikki,” Cookie praised, snapping him out of his reverie. He looked up to see the club manager surveying him with a smug smile as he puffed away on a cigarette. “You really, ahem, grew into your role. I’ve always known how to pick my Peaches.” He winked, slapping him hard on the ass. Nikki jumped and rubbed his behind, staring up at him reproachfully. Before he could complain, though, the manager stuck a gold card in his hand, explaining, “It’s the key to the elevator. I’ll get you into Tyson’s penthouse suite on the top floor. He’s waiting for ya.”

With that, he strolled away leaving Nikki to stare at the mysterious card. Tommi found him moments later, still examining the card.

“Wow!” he exclaimed. “Tyson’s room key. How’d ya get that?”

Nikki looked over at him before looking back at the card. “Cookie just handed it to me. Said Tyson wanted to see me.”

“That’s quite an honor, Nikki! I wouldn’t keep him waiting.” 

When Nikki still hesitated, Tommi sighed and propelled him over to the elevator, pressing the button for the top floor. When the doors swung open, he shoved Nikki inside, saying with a wink, “Tell ol’ Ty hello for me!”

The doors whooshed shut, leaving Nikki stranded inside, his pulse pounding in his ears.

***

Tyson’s palatial penthouse suite was empty when Nikki stepped out of the elevator. He stood in the foyer, mouth hanging open. His brain was fuzzy and he was tired but he wasn’t blind or stupid; he knew there was no way a floor manager of a gay nightclub would normally be able to afford such opulent accommodations. Clearly there was more to Tyson than met the eye…

A fire crackled in a stone fireplace and the lights were dimmed, giving the place a comfy and seductive feeling. Nikki shivered, pacing inside, his bare feet slapping on the luxurious black marble floor. At the far end of the suite a set of French doors opened onto a wide balcony and, leaning over the railing of that balcony, was Tyson.

He was completely nude.

Nikki stopped at the sight of the beautiful, naked man. Unclothed, Tyson was even more stunning than he’d imagined. Lit through the doorway behind him, every muscle on his broad back was defined. His wide shoulders tapered down to a narrow, almost feminine waist. And his butt… Nikki felt his little cock respond to the sight of that amazing ass. It was nearly Peach-sized but on Tyson it didn’t look out of place. No, definitely not out of place! Tyson was so tall and long that he could get away with having such a hefty butt. It was full and generous while still retaining a certain blocky definition. Adding to the allure was the way those perky buttocks sat atop his bulging yet elegant thighs.

Nikki was so lost in his admiration of Tyson’s godlike perfection that he didn’t notice the young man had shaved off his long, brown hair until he turned and looked over his shoulder at him. His face broke into a slow, sad smile and Nikki was taken aback by how soulful his brown eyes were now that his hair was gone. If anything, Tyson looked even more handsome with a shaved head.

“Hey.”

God, that voice! With just one word, Tyson easily telegraphed his casual dominance. Nikki shivered and took a deep breath before walking on wooden legs through the doors and out onto the balcony. He was still getting used to walking on his new, shorter legs and felt like he was waddling like a little duckling. An ugly duckling, compared to Tyson…

“I thought we’d celebrate tonight by remembering the old and welcoming the new,” Tyson said, pausing to eye Nikki approvingly. “Join me for a drink?” 

He didn’t wait for a reply before pacing over to lift two shot glasses off a nearby tray. He held one down to Nikki who accepted the glass, holding it in his hand and examining it. It was filled with a clear liquid. Vodka? He didn’t spend very long wondering about it, though, before being distracted again by Tyson’s otherworldly beauty…and other more carnal things. When the man stood facing him, he got a clear view of the long, fat sausage swinging between those muscular thighs. And then there were his pendulous balls. Fucking shit! Tyson put Teams Banana and Cherry to shame!

Tyson caught him staring and smiled shyly, turning aside to partially conceal his fantastic endowment. “When I began working here,” he explained, “I started out as a Peach before moving on to Team Cherry and Team Banana.”

“I can see that,” Nikki breathed, entranced. “But why hide it? You’re–”

Raising a hand, Tyson warned, “Nick, I need to confess something.”

Nikki was surprised by the use of his old name; it sounded oddly unfamiliar to his ears. Adding to the strangeness was the young man’s voice. When Tyson continued, his accent shifted and along with it, his mannerisms. Instead of sounding and acting like a young, American guy, he spoke with a foreign accent. And he moved…well, his movements were different, too. Before his eyes, Tyson adopted the stance and demeanor of a different man entirely. Nikki’s skin prickled as he struggled to place Tyson’s accent and mannerisms. He sounded almost like he could be Russian. Almost, but not quite…

.

“This man,” Tyson was saying, motioning down to his body, “hasn’t always been who I am. Just like you aren’t who you once were.”

Nikki nodded, although inwardly he felt increasingly alarmed.

When he remained silent, Tyson leaned back on his left leg, holding one arm across his chest while raising his glass in the other. “Here, my friend,” he announced in that strange, gravelly voice. “A toast! To the men we were!”

Nikki hesitated only a moment before lifting his glass and clinking it against Tyson’s. He watched the tall man toss his back, swallowing it in a single gulp before he did the same. The alcohol burned his throat and scorched his stomach. He made a face, struggling not to gag as Tyson laughed.

“I’ve waited years to break out this special ‘vintage,’ my friend,” he muttered cryptically, leading Nikki back inside. “Let’s sit by the fire while we wait for it to kick in.”

Stomach burning from the potent liquor, Nikki allowed  himself to be guided over to an enormous leather couch and didn’t resist when Tyson knelt down and stripped him bare. Tyson was his undisputedly alpha; he could do whatever he wanted to Nikki, whatever he wanted… 

He looked down at the floor when he was naked, suddenly shy in front of such a stunning specimen of manhood. He didn’t measure up to Tyson in so many ways! He tried to take a step backward and nearly lost his balance. He head was spinning…

“Oh, Nick,” Tyson soothed, helping him up onto the sofa. “Just let it happen.”

“Let…wha…happ’n?” He slurred, alarmed by the loss of control of his body. What was going on?

“Here, just lie down next to me. You’ll see.” 

He curled up on the couch, head on Tyson’s lap as he waited for the room to stop spinning around him. After a while, he was startled out of his nausea by a prickly sensation against his cheek and looked up in bleary surprise to see dark hairs curling out of Tyson’s formerly smooth skin. The young guy smiled down at him, following his gaze. He didn’t seem the least bit shocked by this carpet of hair sprouting all over his body.

“You’ve got them, too,” Tyson rumbled, voice heavily inflected with his strange accent. He reached out and rubbed the back of his hand against Nikki’s cheek. “Your beard is growing back.”

Nikki raised his hand and felt stubble. He looked up at Tyson in confusion and then jerked in surprise. Tyson looked different.

Very different.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Was.

Going.

On???

As Nikki watched incredulously, Tyson’s face grew wider and his eyes sunk deeper into his skull. His skin darkened and grew leathery. Dense hair sprouted on his head, matching the stubble on his face. Soon, it was sprinkled with flecks of white. His beard continued to grow, only stopping when it was several inches long. He smiled down at Nikki, eyes crinkling with new wrinkles. 

Nikki was convinced he had either gone crazy or the drink had been spiked with a potent hallucinogen. He gaped up at the middle-aged man, barely recognizing the ‘old’ Tyson. There was no question, though, that that Tyson was disappearing, being replaced by someone else. If he squinted, he could detect only the faintest traces of him. It was as if Tyson had aged thirty years and changed ethnicity in the space of five minutes.

But that wasn’t possible!

Right? 

“Ahhh,” the now older man sighed, reaching down to ruffle Nikki’s hair. “You look so much like him. When I first saw you, I thought his ghost had returned to haunt me.”

Trembling both from fear and confusion, Nikki cleared his throat and tried to push himself up on his elbows. He intended to bolt, intended to run as fast as he could away from the bizarre apparition who used to be Tyson. Who the fuck was this guy? What the goddamned fuck was going on here?

The only problem was that he couldn’t move.

His arms and legs weren’t cooperating.

He was struggling ineffectually to push himself off the couch when a powerful wave of nausea washed over him. He whimpered and curled up, clutching his stomach and retching. He felt like he had to throw up but, after several bouts of dry heaves, nothing came up. He was left holding his knees to his chest, feeling like his head and stomach were going to explode. His whole body was buzzing and his skin felt like it was being devoured by a million gnats.

Through it all, Tyson stroked his shoulder, murmuring soothingly in his ear. “Hang in there, Nick. It’ll pass.”

After an excruciatingly long time that may have been only a few minutes, the worst of the spasms passed and Nikki rolled over onto his back and cracked an eye, doing a double take once again at the middle-aged man sitting next to him. In the midst of his delirium, he’d been convinced that he’d imagined the whole thing. Now that his head had stopped spinning, though, he saw that Tyson really had changed. 

Yes, there was no disputing it. Tyson was now a fully mature man. A mature man with a big belly, loads of body hair, and somewhat saggy flesh. For all of his changes, though, there was still something magnetic about him. He might not possess the old Tyson’s stellar physique but he was handsome and commanding in his own way. And he was regarding Nikki with such a naked fondness that his alarm dissipated, being quickly replaced by…huh?

Nick felt heat creep up his neck as he recognized what he was feeling.

It was arousal: His cock was hard as rock between his legs.

“Welcome back, Nick.”

Without thinking, he mumbled, “Uh, thanks,” and then stopped, amazed by the deeper sound of his voice. His head was still swimming with confusion but the throbbing of his cock made it difficult for him to think of anything else at the moment. His cock wanted this new Tyson. Wanted him badly. Wanted him to do…things…to him. Wanted…

When he opened his eyes fully and saw what had happened to his own body, though, he temporarily forgot about his arousal, jumping off the sofa in delight. 

He was back!

His old body was back!

His muscles, his hair, his broad shoulders, his manly pecs…all restored to their former glory.

But best of all, his cock–His lord and master! He humongous love tool! His pride and joy! His cock! His cock! His cock! His heavy, dripping, fat cock!–was back! He was Officer Nick Baez again! He was himself again! 

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed, striking a beefcake pose, “I’m me!”

The new, older Tyson nodded. “Quite so. If only for a few hours.”

Nick froze mid-pose. “Huh?”

“The…elixir…we drank,” Tyson explained, “restores our bodies only once before it wears off and we return to our normal selves. We have only until morning.”

“‘Normal selves’?” Nick repeated, feeling his old personality reassert itself now that he was back in his old body. “What the fuck do you mean ‘normal’? There was nothing normal about that, that freak you turned me into! Who the fuck gave you permission to do that to me anyway?” He crossed his arms and glared defiantly down at Tyson. “I demand that you return my body to me permanently!”

Tyson remained calmly seated beneath him and Nick became uncomfortably aware that, now that he was standing, he had a clear view of the older man’s cock and balls. Tyson’s package had shrunk down to a respectable size and lay nearly buried in a dense thicket of grey pubic hair. His cock was still large, though, maybe not quite as big as Nick’s new/old endowment but definitely big enough for some fun. 

‘For some fun?’ a distant part of his mind wondered, disappointed that his heterosexuality hadn’t returned along with his old physique. This distant part, however, was quickly subsumed by a much stronger part of him that hungered for that cock. He really, really wanted this old man’s cock in his… He flushed, trying valiantly not to be distracted by his growing libido. He was almost successful for a time.

“Well,” Nick demanded when Tyson remained impassive before him. “Make it happen!”

“It’s not that easy,” Tyson replied, shaking his grizzled head. “I’m afraid there is no way to do that.”

“But you just did it!” Nick shouted, clenching his fists. “And it only took a swig of that nasty shit! Where is the bottle?” he asked, casting around the penthouse, half-expecting to see a bottle of the stuff they’d just drunk laying around. “There’s gotta be more of it!”

“Nick, listen,” Tyson said, holding up his hands placatingly. “I am merely the owner of Tutti Frutti–”

“The owner? You’re the owner?” Nick interrupted. “I thought you were the floor manager.”

Tyson shook his head. “That is just for appearances. I don’t want the authorities asking too many questions. It’s better for everyone to think that Cookie is in charge.”

Nick sighed. “I guess that explains how you can afford to live in a place like this.”

“Yes, it does,” Tyson agreed. “Now if you’ll just let me finish.”

Crossing his arms and forcing himself not to look down at the delectably plump cock nestled between Tyson’s beefy thighs, Nick growled, “Go on.”

“I own this club,” Tyson explained, “but I’m not entirely in charge.”

“Keep talkin’,” Nick commanded, ignoring his pulsing cock.

Tyson looked to the side before continuing, “I don’t, well, I don’t know how to put it exactly. I…have a contract with a, hmmm, let’s call him a benefactor.”

“Benefactor?” Nick repeated. “What do you mean?”

“He is someone to whom I owe my life, Nick,” Tyson said, lowering his head somberly. “I owe him everything really. Without him, I would be dead and my family back home would also be dead.”

“Back home? Where is that?”

Tyson smiled sadly. “I will get to that later.” He held up his hand, forestalling Nick’s protest by admonishing, “Our time is growing short, my friend. Are you sure you wish to spend it bickering?”

“Yes,” Nick answered defiantly even as he could feel his arousal building to an almost intolerable level. 

Tyson’s gaze flicked down to his hard, dripping cock and he raised an eyebrow. He didn’t comment on it, though. Instead, he exhaled slowly, explaining, “My benefactor is a brilliant scientist among other things. He is the one who concocted the drugs that have transformed the Peaches, Cherries, and Bananas into the wonders of nature that you are.”

“‘Wonders of nature’?” Nick harrumphed. “I could think of a better term.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining too loudly tonight while you were on the dancefloor,” Tyson teased before growing serious again. “Unfortunately, my…friend…has only figured out how to reverse the changes once and then only for a few hours. He’s tried to explain the science to me many times but I confess that I do not understand. For now, we will just have to accept that we will never again be the men we once were.” 

Nick stared at him, unwilling to believe that this could be true. “If you can only do it once, why did you do it now?” he asked finally. “Why tonight and why with me?”

“You will have to forgive me, Nick,” Tyson murmured. “I did it for very selfish reasons. I am sorry. It was very cruel of me.”

“Just tell me why,” Nick demanded. “I want to know why!”

But Tyson refused to answer. He just sat there, looking up at him sadly and shaking his head.

Nick stood there, balling up his fists, mouth opening and closing as he tried to understand everything that had just happened, everything that Tyson had just said. He wanted to scream, wanted to demand to know who this fucking benefactor was. Whoever it was had to be a total fucking monster. Whoever it was had to be a… He groaned, feeling his cock pulse mutinously between his legs as his resistance eroded further. He had no idea why he was so turned on but he was smart enough to know that he was fighting a losing battle. As much as he hated him in that moment, he also wanted Tyson. He wanted him badly!

Finally, he gave up and collapsed down on the sofa, holding his head in his hands, moaning, “None of this is real. None of this is real. None of this is real.”

When Tyson lay a warm hand on his back, he didn’t pull away. And he didn’t recoil when the man gently urged him up onto his lap. He wanted to resist but was too weak. Too confused. Too…well, too everything. It had been such a crazy mind-fuck of a day and night! When Tyson hugged him to his chest, Nick lay his cheek against that great, furry chest and sobbed.

He cried for a long time, barely aware that Tyson was stroking his back and kissing his neck and whispering, “Emin, my Emin. I’m so sorry, Emin! I failed to protect you. I failed you.”

Finally, Nick lifted his head and met Tyson’s soft gaze. There were tears in the older man’s eyes. “Who’s Emin?” he asked. 

Tyson didn’t reply right away. Nick watched his big adam’s apple move up and down several times before he managed to croak, “Emin was…my lover. My lover! Even though we knew our love was an affront to our families and an affront to Allah, we were lovers.” He paused then to wipe more tears out of his eyes before continuing, “You remind me very much of him. When I saw you this morning…I–” his voice broke off and he closed his eyes, shaking his head.

In spite of everything, Nick felt touched. He waited patiently until Tyson recovered before pressing, “What happened to him? Is he dead?”

In answer, Tyson reached across the arm of the sofa to retrieve his iPhone. He flipped through it before handing it over to Nick, saying, “That is Emin and me. Before the Russians tortured and murdered him.”

Nick stared down at the glowing screen where there was a grainy photo of two bearded men with their arms slung over each other’s shoulders, clasping machine guns in their free hands. They were dressed in camo and looked weary but happy. The older man was clearly Tyson and the younger one was…

“Shit!” Nick exclaimed. “He does look like me!”

Tyson nodded. “We were rebel fighters in our home, the Republic of Chechnya. When this photo was taken, we didn’t know that our days were numbered, that a Russian spy had infiltrated our ranks. We thought we still had a chance…” He looked like he was going to start crying again but he steeled himself and, taking the phone out of Nick’s hands, set it aside. When he turned back, his face had hardened. “I don’t wish to speak any more of this.” 

Nick nodded. He had so many burning questions but knew that he would get no more answers that night. He was turning back toward Tyson when the man surprised him with a kiss. He jerked, startled, and then did something he’d been longing to do ever since he first laid eyes on Tyson. It was strange, mysterious even, that it didn’t matter what Tyson looked like, whether he was a towering god of youthful beauty or a hirsute, middle-aged man with a sizable paunch. Nick didn’t care. Tyson was Tyson, no matter what he looked like. 

In the coming days, he would often wonder about this strange attraction to Tyson and ultimately realize he couldn’t explain it. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe it was drugs or magic or hormones. Or maybe the ghost of Emin really had possessed him. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter because the best explanation was also the simplest: He wanted Tyson.

Nick gave in to Tyson then.

He gave in!

And he loved it.

He went soft in Tyson’s strong arms and lay back, allowing the older, wiser, heavier, and sexier man to take him.

And take him.

And take him.

And take him.

It was the sweetest, tenderest sex of his life. It was somehow appropriate that it was also the first time he offered up his asshole, parting his cheeks and allowing his more experienced lover to lift his legs over his head. Looking longing into his beautiful, brown eyes, he begged Tyson to enter him. 

It was his first time, yes, but not the last. Definitely not the last!

When he awoke in the morning to find himself staring into the once again youthful Tyson’s eyes, Nikki smiled and giggled. He was a Peach again. A proud Peach who belonged to Tyson.

A proud Peach forevermore.

***

The next morning Nikki was sitting on the edge of Tyson’s giant bed, his little feet dangling over the edge, feeling the soft morning light warm his smooth skin, when Bradley’s voice squeaked in his ear.

>>Jesus fuck! What the fuck happened to you?<< he demanded. >>I’m calling Inspector Garcia!<<

Nikki looked up and gazed upon his reflection in the mirror next to the bed and smiled. His eyes looked so bright in his round face and his mop of styled hair hung so alluringly down across his cheek. He was cute. A super cute Peach!

“Don’t,” he ordered, noticing that his delicate voice had returned along with his Peachy body. “Don’t tell her, Bradley. I’m fine. I’m really fine. And I think Tyson revealed a clue that may be the lead we’re looking for. I just need to do some sniffing around. Can I count on your cooperation?”

There was a long pause, then, >>I don’t like this but sure. Sure, I’m in. I won’t say anything. I got yer back.<<

“Good,” Nikki said, smiling. “Then let’s get to work…and have some fun while doing it!”

***

Chapter 6

Nikki at the Tutti Frutti

The next couple of weeks passed like a pleasant, peachy dream with Nikki embracing his new role and body with fervor. As the days rolled by, he had a more and more difficult time remembering his life prior to taking the assignment at the Tutti Frutti. Life before Team Peach seemed hazy and drained of color. Now, each day was a new opportunity to improve his physique (i.e., work on his ass), perfect his dance skills, and explore the tasty delights on display at the club.

Tommi and he grew to be inseparable and his relationship with Tyson flourished into something much more than a casual workplace fling. After that first night, though, Tyson never spoke again of his life in Chechnya and never broke form, appearing to everyone–including Nikki–to be just a young, sexy American guy who spoke in a slangy drawl and didn’t have a care in the world beyond fucking his new, hot Peach boyfriend. Nikki didn’t mind, though. Why would he? He loved being with Tyson, being used by Tyson, being Tyson’s private little slut and cum-hungry whore. What more could a Peach want?

Despite savoring the, ahem, fruits of his labors, he didn’t forget about his mission. He kept an ear and an eye out at all times for illicit activity at the club. Bradley was a great help because he noticed things that Nikki might otherwise disregard and often prompted him to investigate possible leads. After two weeks, though, they still had nothing. While it was clear that bizarre shit was going down at the Tutti Frutti, so far none of it appeared to be illegal. Nikki could attest to the fact that the ‘enhancements’ team members received were not entirely consensual but no one on Team Peach, Cherry, or Banana was being held against his will and, after their initial shock, the new members settled down and enjoyed their transformed bodies. As Bradley pointed out, there was no law against being a freak.

One night about two weeks after Nikki had joined Team Peach, he was awakened by Bradley’s voice in his ear. He was sleeping in his bunk at Peach HQ because Tyson was out of town. He had just slipped into a deeply restful slumber and was enjoying a particularly explicit dream when Bradley disturbed him.

>>Wake up, Nikki!<< he whispered. When Nikki rolled over and continued sleeping, he repeated, >>Nikki!<< 

Still no response. 

Finally, he sighed loudly and took a deep breath, shouting, >>WAKE UP, ASSHOLE!<<

Nikki sat bolt upright in the bed and would have complained vocally if Bradley hadn’t shushed him.

>>Chill, dude.<< he warned in a low voice. >>Don’t wake anyone. Something’s going down over there and you need to find out what it is.<<

Nikki looked around. In the dim light, he could see that Tommi’s bed was empty. Curious, he got up and looked around. There were several other empty bunks as well. Where had his fellow Peaches gone?

>>It was lucky that you were lying on your side and your camera had full view when they were rounded up.<< Bradley explained. >>And it’s also lucky that I was here at the office. I couldn’t sleep and decided to come in and see what you and Theo were up to.<<

Theo.

Wow, Nikki thought with chagrin, Theo! He’d completely forgotten about his friend and fellow detective. He wondered how he was doing and if he was having any luck cracking the case.

>>He’s doin’ fine.<< Bradley said, intuiting his thoughts. >>Got a little workplace crush goin’ on. It’s adorable. And his office boy is adorable, too. A little scrawny, sure, but cute. Super cute!<<

Nikki shook his head, trying to imagine Theo having a crush on a guy. It didn’t seem–

>>Oh, he’s not crushing,<< Bradley, ever the mind-reader, corrected. >>His office boy is crushing on him. I keep encouraging him to–<<

“Bradley!” Nikki whispered. “Focus! We need to find out where the Peaches went.”

>>Oh, yeah, right. Sorry!<< the lascivious voice in his head apologized. >>Tyson came in just a few minutes ago and woke ‘em up. They headed toward the back.<<

“Tyson?” Nikki queried, trying to keep his voice as low as possible. “But he’s out of town!”

>>Not anymore.<<

Curious and a little hurt by this news (Why had Tyson lied to him?), Nikki padded out of the sleeping quarters and down the hall. The lights were on in a storage room behind the gym. He pushed quietly through the gym doors and crept past the empty equipment. As he neared the back of the room, he could hear muffled voices. He took a deep breath and turned the handle on the storage room, stepping inside.

The little room was empty but he spotted another door at the back that was ajar. He tiptoed over and squatted down, placing his ear near the opening. On the other side, he could hear two men talking but they weren’t speaking English. His brow furrowed. It sounded like Russian. And he was certain that the one of the men was Tyson. He would recognize his lover’s authoritative tone anywhere.

Very carefully, he peered around the door and almost gasped at what he saw. Six of his fellow Peaches–including Tommi–were lined up on a loading dock, preparing to march into the back of a large, covered truck. They were still dressed in their pajamas and straring straight ahead as if entranced. Beside them stood Tyson and another man whom Nikki didn’t recognize. The man was tall and exceedingly good looking with a broad, muscular build. Strangely, he was wearing an antique-style grey suit like men wore in old movies from the 1950’s. On his head was a grey pork pie hat. Nikki shook his head. The man looked like a throwback from another time. 

>>What the–?<< Bradley breathed as he took in the scene. Unfortunately for him–and for Nikki–he never got a chance to finish.

At that moment, the man in the grey suit looked over and spotted Nikki. Before Nikki could react, the man had closed the distance between them and grabbed him by the shoulders. As he struggled, his accoster hoisted him up and murmured a word in a language that Nikki didn’t understand.

While he might not have understood the word, it nonetheless had an instant effect on him. He went slack in the man’s arms, mouth falling open. Inwardly, he fought to speak, move, resist, or whatever but it was no use. He was powerless to do or say anything. Worse, the hypnotic word must have had the same effect on Bradley; Nikki could hear him in the earpiece as he struggled to make a sound but he, too, was powerless to resist. After breathing heavily for a few moments, Bradley fell silent, too.

***

Tyson

“What have we here?” Alexei asked in Russian as he deposited Nikki’s limp body on a nearby folding chair. The young Peach toppled down, slumping forward. His eyes were glassy.

Somehow, Tyson managed to keep his features neutral even though inwardly he was freaking out. How the fuck had Nikki found them? And, more importantly, now that Alexei Bortnikov had captured him, what would he do to him? Tyson was ashamed to admit how fond of the young guy he’d become over the last couple of weeks. Their friendship was rapidly developing into something new and unexpected for both of them. He couldn’t lose Nikki now! Nikki was the only man since Emin who…

He forced the thought away, trying with some success to keep his tone flat as he answered, “I have no idea. He must have awakened when we removed the merchandise from their beds.”

Alexei didn’t answer right away. He stood there for a long time with his arms crossed, looking down at Nikki. Finally, he shook his head and, looking at his watch, announced, “He’s a spy.”

This time, Tyson couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice when he gasped, “What?! How do you know?”

The Russian squatted down and, lifting his wrist, panned his watch across Nikki’s body. He paused when the watch was level with the young guy’s head and his face broke into a cold smile. “Yes, yes, yes. Very clever. They have outfitted him with a camera and he has an audio surveillance chip embedded in his ear canal, if I’m not mistaken.”

Tyson was feeling increasingly panicked. Nikki was a spy?! How was that possible? He’d never gotten the tiniest hint that his lover was working for someone else. His mouth felt dry as cotton as he stammered, “B-B-But–”

Alexei straightened, favoring him with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, my friend. It happens to the best of us. The police are getting increasingly sophisticated but they are still idiots and it’s simple to stay a step ahead of them. I can…fix…this situation while you deliver the cargo. It will only take me a few minutes.”

Tyson took a deep breath, forcing himself to unclench his fists as he asked, “How will you, as you say, fix this? You’re not going to kill anyone, are you?”

Alexei seemed amused by the question. Moving over to Tyson and laying a fond arm over his shoulders, he cajoled, “Rachid, my friend, you know that I am not a killer. You remember how I dealt with the men who murdered your beloved Emin, don’t you?”

Tyson stiffened. “Y-Y-Yes, I do. But what you did to them–Allah curse them!–was almost worse than death.”

“Quite so,” Alexei agreed, grinning impishly. “But in this case, I will be lenient. The police have not harmed us; they are merely doing their jobs, yes?”

Tyson narrowed his eyes, lowering his voice as he pressed, “Alexei, what are you planning?”

The Russian laughed, squeezing his shoulder. “I am going to stop by the police department on my way home and make them a peace offering.”

“A peace offering? Why don’t I like the sound of that?”

“Now, now, Rachid!” Alexei chided. “The Americans say that you make more friends with honey than with vinegar, right? Well, I will make them a sweet offer that they cannot refuse.”

Tyson shook his head, murmuring, “Alexei, you are a devil, you know that?”

“Maybe I am angel in disguise?” the man quipped, amused. “Have you ever thought about that? I like to think that I dispense justice where it is sorely deserved.”

Tyson was about to respond when he remembered Nikki. Heart clenching with apprehension, he inclined his head toward  his lover slouched over in the chair, asking, “What about him? What are you going to do to him?”

“Ah,” Alexei breathed, pacing over to the little man. “I won’t harm him, either. It will be a simple matter to make him forget what he saw here tonight and then I think I will reward him.” He turned back to Tyson, asking, “He deserves a reward for a job well done, don’t you think? He did after all come very close to toppling our entire operation.”

“Alexei,” Tyson warned, feeling his body go cold with dread. “What are you going to do to him?”

“A juicy peach like this one should be enjoyed,” the Russian answered in an almost casual tone, “by as many men as possible. I think I shall adjust his libido upward and turn a juicy peach into a very slutty one…”

***

Bradley at Police Headquarters

Bradley sat up in astonishment, earpiece falling onto the desk in front of him as he gaped at the strange man standing before him. How the fuck did he get in here? he wondered, frantically looking around his office. He’d locked the door before entering. Only Inspector Garcia had a key…

The man, he couldn’t help noticing despite his shock, was very handsome. Perhaps in his early thirties, he was broad-shouldered with chiseled features and sparkling brown eyes. He wore an old-fashioned grey suit and a funny hat that he tipped toward Bradley as he introduced himself.

“Alexei Bortnikov,” he announced with an unmistakable Russian accent, “at your service, Mr. Whalen.”

“What—? How–? Wh–” Bradley sputtered, increasingly freaked out.

“So many questions,” Alexei teased, “but it is answers that I seek. For starters, why don’t you tell me who else besides Mr. Nicolas Baez is working undercover at my clubs?”

Bradley realized his mouth was hanging open and he closed it with a snap. Mind racing, his gaze flicked instinctively to his computer screen where the video feeds from Nick and Theo’s cameras were displayed. He was about to rip the monitor out of his computer when the man held up his index finger and Bradley froze.

“Don’t do anything rash, Mr. Whalen,” Alexei warned. “I am here to help, not hurt you.”

“H-h-help?” Bradley managed to squeak.

The man smiled. It was a genuine smile, lacking even a hint of menace. “Why, yes!” he cajoled. “I will reward you generously for your cooperation. In fact, I will be more than generous. You see,” he said, stepping forward to sit on the corner of Bradley’s desk, “I can give you what you desire most. Now give me the names and locations of your undercover officers.”

Bradley hesitated before saying, “I will not be bribed, Mr. Bortnikov.”

Alexei nodded. “Bribe?” he asked. “I’m not talking about a bribe. I’m talking about a gift, much like the gifts I have bestowed on my dancers at Tutti Frutti. You have seen what I did to Officer Nick Baez, no?”

Bradley swallowed, feeling his cock begin to swell. “Yes, yes, I have!”

Alexei smirked down at him. “So you know what I am capable of.”

“Yes, yes, I do!”

“It’s simple then,” the Russian said, spreading his big hands. “Tell me their names and locations and I will make you into a god among men. The body you’ve always longed to possess will be yours as well as so much more…”

Bradley sat there looking up at him for a long time, heart racing in his chest and cock throbbing in his pants. Finally, he made up his mind and, looking purposefully away from the Theo’s video feed, muttered, “I can’t believe I’m doing this but here’s what you need to know…”

***

Theo at the Bullpen

Parker texted him in the middle of the night but Theo didn’t see the message until he was getting ready for work the next morning.

>>hey boss<< his assistant wrote >>i found it. you gotta see this<<

Theo stared down at his phone, pulse suddenly racing. What exactly had Parker found? He texted back immediately and followed up with a call a few minutes later when Parker didn’t reply to his text.

He got his voicemail.

Annoyed, Theo tried calling him back but, after a few rings, he was forwarded to voicemail once again. Cursing, he finished the knot on his tie before grabbing his coffee and heading out the door.

Parker was sitting at his desk when he got in.

Theo’s irritation got the better of him and he didn’t waste time on niceties. “Hey, why didn’t you–” he started to demand but his voice died in his throat when Parker looked up at him. He blinked. Parker had a big, thick, black nose ring hanging from his septum just like ones on the muscle bulls downstairs.

Smirking up at Theo, he drawled, “Wassup, bro?”

Theo took a step back and swallowed, feeling his skin break out in a clammy sweat. Parker’s smile grew wider as he stood there gaping until finally he cleared his throat, forcing himself to croak, “Parker, what did you do?”

His assistant’s smile turned into a leer as his tongue flicked out and he made a big show of slowly, deliberately licking the arc of the nose ring. He seemed to be taking sadistic pleasure out of watching Theo squirm.

“Do what?” he asked in mock innocence. When he spoke, Theo noticed that his lips bumped against the ring, making it tremble. Somehow this struck him as almost more lurid than when he licked it. The silence stretched and the tension grew between them until finally Parker slapped his palm to his forehead, saying, “Oh, you’re talkin’ ‘bout the ring, aren’t ya? Like it?”

Theo opened and then closed his mouth, trying desperately to regain his footing. The young guy was supposed to be his subordinate and yet somehow the tables had turned and Theo now felt subordinate to him. As he struggled, Parker took the opportunity to stretch languidly, raising his arms up over his head and yawning. Was it his imagination or were Parker’s arms bigger and more muscular? His starched, white oxford shirt was stretched taut.

Realizing that Parker was still waiting for his reply, Theo changed the subject, setting aside his uneasiness with the nose ring and focusing on other matters. “You texted me last night saying that you found something,” he queried. “What did you find? Anything important?”

Parker regarded him for a long time, eyes dancing. The little fucker is toying with me! Theo thought, feeling his anger rise. Before he could call him on it, though, Parker shrugged, “I mighta found sumthin’ out. Can’t really remember right now, though. Musta not been too important.”

“Parker,” Theo warned, feeling his face grow hot. “What is wrong with you? Are you on something?”

For some reason, this struck Parker as funny and he guffawed, laughing so long and raucously that Theo was ready to explode by the time the kid calmed down enough to reply, “Haha! Yer funny, brah! Nah, I’m not on anything.”

“Good,” Theo said icily. “Then get me those reports I asked for yesterday. You  were supposed to have them waiting for me, remember?”

Still chuckling, Parker goaded, “Maybe, maybe not. Can’t say I do.”

Theo clenched his jaw and consciously forced himself to relax his shoulders before he hissed, “Parker, cut the crap! Get me those reports to me now if you want to keep your job.” 

He turned his back on his assistant then and pretended to focus on settling into another day at the office but was secretly listening to make sure Parker got to work. His patience was wearing thin with the boy. He had no idea what had gotten into him. Parker had always been so serious and hardworking! He wondered if he’d made a mistake by socializing with him. Maybe he should have maintained a strictly professional relationship? It did seem like they’d crossed a line the night before in the bar when Parker had brazenly announced his attraction to Theo.

Yeah, that’s it, he thought. I screwed up by getting too close to him. From now on, I’m going to turn over a new leaf. From now on, I am keeping my distance.

Behind him, he heard Parker sigh loudly and push himself off of his chair. Still sighing, he trudged to the back of the office, going into the little room where they kept the secure terminals, the ones hosting the company’s confidential financial data. A moment later, the door slammed shut behind him and Theo rolled his eyes. The kid sure had developed an attitude!

***

About ten minutes later, Theo heard the door open behind him and Parker called out, “Alright, boss. Your reports are ready. Come and get ‘em!”

Theo smiled, pushing himself out of his chair and heading back to collect the data. He’d been piecing together fragments of the company’s records and hoped that these reports would shed new light on some of the more opaque transactions. In his excitement to see the information, he didn’t notice that the light was off inside the little room until he stepped inside. By then, however, it was too late. 

Someone grabbed his arms and, before he could react, he felt the cold metal of handcuffs close around his wrists. A moment later, something heavy closed around his ankles and heard the jingling of chains. Legcuffs! He jerked, frantically struggling to free his hands and feet, but it was no use; he was caught.

“Ah, you did your job well, my pet!” a deep voice boomed beside him as Parker flipped on the light switch. He was smiling sheepishly at Theo.

Theo fixed him with an outraged glare, demanding, “What the fuck are you doing, you idiot! Let me go!”

Before Parker could reply, the man with the deep voice stepped in front of him and Theo found himself staring into the eyes of a very tall, very handsome man. He was dressed like Cary Grant from one of those old movies, wearing a grey suit and matching pork pie hat.

He inclined his head toward Theo, purring in a thick Russian accent, “Alexei Bortnikov at your service. And don’t be too angry with my pet. Parker was simply doing my bidding. Weren’t you, boy?”

Parker nodded, grinning happily, the big, black nose ring flopping up and down on his face. Theo gaped, feeling his heart twist in his chest. This could not be happening!

“And now that you are secure,” Bortnikov continued, “I can continue where I left off with Parker this morning.”

Theo swallowed. When he spoke, his voice was shaky with fear. “W-W-What do you mean? Continue?”

The tall man ignored the question, saying instead, “It is most fortunate that I caught your fellow detective, Mr. Nicolas Baez, sniffing around one of my other nightclubs last night.”

At the mention of Nick’s name, Theo froze, realizing that this situation was much worse than he’d thought. Nick’s cover had been blown! His eyes went round as the menacing Russian settled back against a rack of servers, crossing his arms.

“Yes, the timing was impeccable, really,” he murmured, laughing to himself. “If I hadn’t found out about Mr. Baez when I did and subsequently tracked you down by way of a certain Mr. Whalen–”

Theo jerked. Bradley! This creep knew about Bradley, too? He felt the blood drain out of his face as he recalled that Bradley had been strangely silent in his ear that morning. Normally, the guy babbled nonstop…

>>Uh, yeah, sorry, man.<< Bradley chimed in then. >>He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse and I sold ya out. It’s better this way, though. Trust me.<<

“Bradley!” Theo yelled. “What the fuck, Bradley?! Why?”

Bortnikov answered for Bradley, saying, “He is a wise man, Theo. Just like my boy, Parker, here. They both recognize the value of a gift when they see it. Why, Parker betrayed you without hesitation last night when I confronted him here in this very office. Oh, he started out acting high-minded and noble, saying that he would expose me and my business associates, accusing me of all sorts of rubbish.”  He paused then to tousle Parker’s hair, the boy beaming with happiness the whole time. 

Theo had to look away; he felt sick to his stomach. 

Alexei favored Parker with a fond smile before concluding, “But when I offered him the thing he wants most in this world, why, he buckled! Poof! Just like that, his morals disappeared. And now he’s going to reap the rewards.”

Theo hung his head, feeling the hope draining out of him. If Nick had been compromised and Parker and Bradley had turned against him, what chance did he have? He was lost. Lost!

“It’s time, Parker,” Alexei announced ominously.

Theo looked up in horror to see Parker was holding a syringe in one hand and big, black ring in the other. He panicked, struggling fiercely but it was no use. Bortnikov strode forward and forced him down onto his knees before holding out a hand and accepting the syringe from Parker.

“No! Please!” Theo begged. “Don’t!” He turned to Parker, imploringly, but the boy merely smiled coldly down at him.

“It’s time to man up, Mr. Barton,” Alexei was saying, a mocking smile on his face. “And I mean really man up. This,” he sneered, holding the syringe before Theo’s frightened eyes, “contains a megadose of hormones. The same ones I inject into the muscle bulls downstairs. It’s really quite effective, you’ll find. Do you want to know what those effects are?”

Theo shook his head weakly, still pleading with his eyes at Parker.

“I think you can guess, actually,” Alexei teased. “But I will give you a hint. You’re going to need a lot of hints from now on, Mr. Barton. Many, many hints because the hormones have a serious and irreversible side effect. I’m afraid that the bigger you grow, the dumber you will become. It won’t take long before you’ll be incapable of doing anything but stumbling around like an oversexed, braindead moron.”

“NO!” Theo screamed, overwhelmed by panic. “Don’t do that! Please! Anything but that!”

Bortnikov ignored him, taking the nose ring from Parker and twirling it around his finger. “This will keep you under my control,” he explained. “And it will also make you…susceptible…to suggestions. Very susceptible, especially to suggestions from your associate here.” He nodded over to Parker and Theo wilted, hope draining out of him as fear took its place. Bortnikov seemed oblivious to his agony, though, as he continued, “You will do anything that Parker tells you without question once I pierce this through your nose. This is his reward for turning you over to me. It was the least I could do, really. You see, Mr. Barton, I like to reward loyalty and both Mr. Pendleton and Mr. Whalen have been most loyal.”

With that, he paced around behind Theo and, over his strenuous and pathetic screaming, injected him with the full dose of hormones. And, finally, as Theo sobbed, feeling the insidious serum spread like molten lava through his butt cheek, Alexei produced a pair of pliers and, affixing the ring in the center, clamped it through his septum.

The last thing that Theo saw before Alexei Bortnikov hypnotized him, making him forget everything that had just transpired, was Parker squatting down before him, smiling, the crotch of his trousers tenting noticeably.

“It’ll be alright, boss,” he said, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of Theo’s hair behind his ear. “We’re gonna have a blast together!”

***

Chapter 7

Theo at the Bullpen

Theo awoke with a jolt at his desk. He looked around, embarrassed that he’d nodded off on the job. He looked over his shoulder covertly and was relieved to see Parker was distracted by fiddling with his ugly nose ring. He sighed in relief, smiling to himself. He didn’t want his assistant to think he was lazy! He had to set a good example after all. He was sitting up in his chair when he felt a twinge in his hip and he was reaching down to massage it as something bumped against his lip. Confused, he lifted his hand and then jerked in surprise.

What the fuck?! There was a heavy, thick ring in his nose! A ring, he realized in confusion, that was just like the one in Parker’s nose.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed, looking back at Parker. “Where the fuck did this come from?”

Parker looked up from his computer and gave him a half smile. “What? Your ring? Don’t you remember?”

“No!” Theo shouted, his whole body shaking. “Remember what?”

“Last night, bro,” Parker said, shrugging. “We went to the piercing parlor after work and got ‘em. It was your idea.”

Theo sat there blinking, mind reeling. “We…did? It was?” Why he didn’t remember that?! It’s not like it was something you would forget overnight.

“You were pretty toasted. I’m not surprised you don’t remember. I tried to talk you out of it but you were all fired up.” Parker paused to toy with his own ring, lifting it up and letting it fall against his lips. “I think it’s badass. Don’t you?”

“N-N-No,” Theo said haltingly. He touched the ring in his nose, rolling it around in his fingers and grimacing in distaste. It was so big! And, Jesus was it ever thick!

“Listen, bud,” Parker drawled. “You look hot AF. Now forget ‘bout it and get back to work, Ok?”

Theo stared back at him in surprise. “Hey,” he corrected, forgetting about the weird ring through his nose for the moment. “Remember who’s boss around here?”

“No, who?” Parker challenged, eyes sparkling.

Theo refused to be baited. “Just get those reports I asked for. What was it? Three hours ago now?” When Parker rolled his eyes, Theo lifted his hand and pointed his finger at him, warning, “And drop the attitude. Now.”

***

Lunchtime came and Parker still hadn’t produced the reports. Instead, he seemed to be watching a sports channel on his iPhone. When Theo looked back at him, he was sitting with his heels up on the desk, head cradled in his hands, green eyes unfocused and dreamy. Black five o’clock shadow covered his face. Theo could have sworn that the kid was clean-shaven that morning.

“Hey, bud,” Parker called out when he caught Theo staring at him. “Wanna join me? I’m gonna lift downstairs over lunch.”

“Lift?”

“Yeah,” Parker said, “you know. Lift weights. There’s a gym in the basement that employees can use. We’ll have it to ourselves ‘cuz the muscle boys are all still sleepin’ in.”

Theo’s brow furrowed. He knew he should reprimand his assistant for being lazy and not getting him the reports he needed but for some reason he found himself agreeing, “Sure, why not?” He blinked after he’d said it, wondering what was wrong with him.

“Ex-cel-lent,” Parker drawled, standing up and reaching for his gym bag on a chair nearby. “Got yer workout togs with ya?”

“Er, no,” Theo admitted. He never worked out at the gym; he was runner, not a weightlifter.

“S’Ok, dude. I’ll spot ya some of mine.” Parker sauntered over to his chair and stood looking down at him with a confident smirk on his face, saying, “I’m a bit…bigger…than you are but I’m sure my stuff will still fit ya.”

With that, he strolled out of the office, his bag slung over his shoulder. Theo stared after him for a few moments before lurching out of his chair and following along behind.

***

The gym downstairs was well-appointed and empty, just like Parker had predicted. Theo surveyed the rows of free weights and machines, impressed. He’d never lifted weights before but he could feel his muscles twitching at the sight of the equipment. For some reason, the thought of lifting really got his blood pumping. He shook his head, wondering what was wrong with him. He wasn’t a weightlifter!

“Sweet setup, huh?”

Theo looked over to see Parker watching him with a half smile, his green eyes shining mischievously. He cleared his throat, feeling his neck grow hot under the boy’s scrutiny. “Uh, yeah. Really cool.”

“C’mon, let’s get suited up.”

Parker turned and Theo followed him into the locker room, his nose ring slapping against his lips with each step. He shivered, feeling his skin prickle with premonition. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to do this…

When they entered the locker room, he looked around and was both relieved and distressed to find it empty. It had just been cleaned and the open row of showers across from the lockers sparkled. The air smelled fresh, surprising for a locker room, and the lighting was bright. Overall, it was a nice place. The only quibble he had was the lack of privacy. There was nowhere for him to undress without being on full display. He grimaced.It was definitely awkward being naked with your assistant! Why had he agreed to workout? It was seeming less prudent all the time.

“Here, brah,” Parker said, tossing something onto the bench next to him. “Wear this.”

Theo looked down and his eyes widened. It was a wadded up jockstrap. At one time, it had probably been white but it wasn’t anymore. Far from it! Its pouch was covered in stains, crusty and well-used. He turned to Parker, stating flatly, “No way. I’m not wearing that.”

“Go on,” Parker urged, still smiling slyly. “Ya gotta wear sumthin’.” He paused significantly before adding, “For support.”

Theo clenched his hands. “Parker, I’m not–”

“Just put it on, man! No one’ll know you’re wearing my jock.”

“Except me.”

Parker smirked, unbuttoning his shirt as he chided, “Yer wastin’ time, bro.”

Theo sighed in exasperation but then found himself reaching down to pick up the disgusting garment. It was weird. It felt like he didn’t have control over his hand or something. He looked down at the jock in his hand in confusion. What the…?

When he held it to his nose and sniffed it, he thought he would pass out but not because of the smell (which was rank) but because he had no idea where the compulsion to do so had come from. He inhaled deeply, gagging and feeling his whole being revolt against the bizarre compunction overwhelming him, making him do precisely the last thing he wanted. Sniffing his assistant’s dirty jockstrap?! What the fuck?!

And yet he was powerless to stop himself.

He lowered the jock, eyes lifting to meet Parker’s.

His assistant was stripping out of his shirt, revealing a surprisingly toned and muscular chest. He was covered with thick, black hair. Much hairier than Theo would have imagined. The areolas around his nipples were large and dark brown. His tummy was lean and ripped with a definite six-pack. Theo looked away.

Why was he examining Parker’s body so closely? Why did he care what he looked like?

With trembling hands, he unbuttoned his own shirt, extremely conscious of Parker’s eyes on him. Kicking off his shoes, he unfastened his belt and, unzipping his pants, letting them slide down his butt. He looked up.

Parker’s eyes gleamed.

Theo looked away, cheeks coloring. Why did he feel so shy in front of the boy? He was his subordinate after all! There was no reason to… 

No reason…

No…

He stepped out of his pants and looked down at the bench where the dirty jockstrap lay waiting. He lifted his head and met Parker’s gaze again. The boy nodded. Theo swallowed and turned his back while pulling down his boxers.

He was naked in front of Parker! He couldn’t believe it! What was he thinking?

He looked down at his hand. It was reaching down to pick up the filthy jockstrap.

And then it was lifting it off the bench.

He watched his other hand grab the strap.

Both hands held it out before him.

He watched himself bend at the waist.

His hands lowered the jock down.

His right leg stepped through it.

His left leg did the same.

His hands pulled it up his thighs. 

He pulled out the pouch and cupped it around his package.

He cringed as the crusty cup scratched against his cock and balls. What had Parker done with this jockstrap? He shuddered to think.

“Turn around.”

Theo stiffened at the sound of Parker’s voice. He sounded so authoritative. So self-assured.

So dominant.

“I said turn around.”

Fighting with everything he had, Theo did. He stared down at the ground, almost whining, “Parker! Please! This isn’t–”

“God,” the boy breathed, stepping forward so that he was chest-to-chest with Theo. “You are fucking incredible!” His eyes panned down Theo’s naked body, lingering for a long time on his package stuffed inside the dirty pouch. “So fucking hot wearing my jockstrap!”

Theo’s ears were red and his face was hot. He couldn’t meet Parker’s eyes. His whole body was shaking. He didn’t know what was happening! Why was Parker acting like this? More importantly, why was he acting like this? He was completely at his assistant’s whim. Whatever Parker wanted him to do, he would do without question.

It was wrong.

Wrong!

When Parker spoke, Theo reacted as if stung. “You’ll wear that and nothin’ else,” the boy pronounced. “Now get out there and lift!”

***

Back in the gym, Theo found himself settling down on the seat of the bench press. He lay there for a long time, feeling his bare ass sticking to the plastic cover, hating the way the moist pouch of Parker’s jock cupped his cock and balls. His skin was crawling and he longed to get up, get dressed, and get the fuck out of that gym. This wasn’t normal! This was wrong! This was…

He stayed put.

A few minutes later, Parker swaggered out of the locker room. Theo didn’t look up from the bench. He lay there, teeth grinding in frustration as he tried and failed to make himself get up and leave. No matter how hard he tried, though, he couldn’t leave. He was so focused on trying to flee that he almost didn’t notice when Parker moved into his field of vision, standing over him as he took up position behind the bar. After a while, though, Parker cleared his throat and Theo gaped.

The kid was naked from the waist down!

Parker was wearing an Under Armour muscle-hugging t-shirt and nothing else. His thick, hooded piece hung down from his hairy crotch, swaying atop a stunning pair of low-hangers.

“Parker, what are–”

The boy cut him off, barking, “Shut up and lift.”

Theo’s face turned bright red and his heart pounded as a voice inside his head screamed at him to get up but his body refused to obey him. He sat there, sweating, as Parker hefted a couple forty-five pound weights onto the bars.

“This is yer warm up,” he explained, returning to his position behind the bar. He was standing directly over Theo’s head, giving him an unobstructed view of his crotch. He could see every detail of Parker’s male anatomy right down to the folds of his foreskin and the gaping piss slit peaking out. “Now lift.”

Theo lifted.

Just like in the locker room, he watched helplessly as his arms disobeyed him, reaching up and grabbing the bar. Soon he had lifted the bar and commenced doing a set of twelve reps. A far off part of his mind was amazed by how effortless it was when he’d never lifted before in his life. After he completed the set, Parker placed another pair of forty-five pounders on the bar and Theo did it all over again. He pounded through another set of ten reps, chest muscles only slightly fatigued by the end. How was that possible?

“Get up.”

Theo did as he was told and Parker settled down onto the bench. He jerked his chin and Theo walked on wooden legs, taking up position behind the bar.

Parker looked up at him, smiling wickedly. “Love yer package, dude. That’s my dried cum hugging yer junk.”

Theo blanched, feeling sick. He wanted so badly to be gone! Still, he didn’t move. He stood there dumb and mute as Parker hoisted the bar, pumping it up and down easily. When he was finished, he reracked the weights, getting up and to stand behind Theo. He lingered back there for a long time, so long that Theo’s shoulders began shaking. He could feel Parker’s hot breath on his neck, hear his heavy breathing. When the boy put a heavy hand on his shoulder and, urging him forward, told him to lie back down on the bench, he stumbled forward. Parker took up the spotter position behind the bench again and Theo saged down in relief. He had been worried that the boy was planning to do something else. Something that really crossed the line. Something that…

He lay back on the bench and looked up at the bar, shrinking back in disgust when he saw Parker’s tool. 

He was getting hard! 

Parker laughed, thrusting his crotch forward so that his now semi-erect cock was positioned directly over Theo’s head. Unable to tear his gaze away, Theo watched in revulsion as that fat, long member grew progressively harder and straighter until it was fully erect. The beast had to be more than eight inches long, putting his own modest six inches to shame.

“It’s yer fault, brah,” Parker teased, waggling his cock. “You got me all boned up.”

Theo squirmed, exercising extreme will to move away–or at least down from–that horned up cock but once again he failed. As he stared up at it, a thick glob of precum formed at the tip of Parker’s cockhead. It oozed out, gradually reaching critical mass until it hung suspended above his captive face, tethered by a tapering thread. His eyes widened until…

Splat!

The gob of pre landed on his upper lip. It was just a drop but Theo felt its impact like a slap. Humiliated and mortified, he froze. Parker–his assistant!–had just leaked pre onto his face! It was disgusting! It was repulsive! It was–

“Go on,” Parker directed. “Lick it up.”

Theo’s tongue had shot out of his mouth and tasted the metallic jizz before he knew what was happening. He cleaned up his lip, lapping up every trace of the boy’s precum, and then lay there, stunned. He couldn’t believe what he’d just done! And so eagerly! What was wrong with him?

“Knew you’d like it,” Parker goaded. “Want more?” He paused to laugh harshly before answering his own question, “‘Course ya do! But ya gotta do another set with even more weight first.”

Theo exhaled in defeat, hating how impotent tears were forming in the corners of his eyes. He hated himself for giving in so easily, for following Parker’s orders without question, for being so weak. He was supposed to be in charge! He was supposed to be Parker’s boss! And, even worse, he was supposed to be straight. Nothing about his current predicament, however, could be construed as heterosexual. He was wearing only a dirty jockstrap, lying on his back with his head directly under a naked guy with an erect penis–and he’d just licked up a glob of precum.

What the fuck was going on?

Helpless, he watched Parker place two more forty-five pound weights for a total of almost three hundred pounds (!!!) on the bar. And then he raised his hands, gripped the bar, and lifted. It was heavy but he did it. He fucking did it! Eight reps! When he was done, Parker squatted down and rubbed his leaking cock all over his lips. Theo lapped it up hungrily, behaving as if he couldn’t get enough of the boy’s spunk even though inwardly he wanted to vomit.

And so it went. On and on for more than two hours as Parker led Theo through the most rigorous and humiliating workout of his life, drilling him through all manner of upper and lower body exercises and ‘rewarding’ him after each with a taste of his pre. By the end, his chest, back, and ab muscles were quivering with exhaustion. And his legs and ass…well, let’s just say he could barely walk.

The muscle pain wasn’t the worst part, though. No, he barely even noticed. He was too humiliated from being…used…by his assistant. Parker had been unrelenting in using Theo’s mouth for his personal enjoyment. By the end, his cock was glistening with Theo’s spit. After the last set, the boy had forced his cock into his mouth, pulling back his foreskin and making him trace the circumference of his glans over and over with his tongue–all while moaning in ecstasy.

“Yer a little cockslut, aren’t you, Ted?” Parker teased, pulling Theo up by the elbows and pressing his hard body against him. He moved Theo’s hands down to his firm, round buttocks as he did the same, sliding his hands beneath the straps of his jockstrap and squeezing.

“My name is Theo,” he corrected but Parker only laughed, pushing his erection against his crotch. As Theo’s mind raced, the young guy abruptly lifted his hand and yanked their nose rings upward. Theo gasped in pain as the ring hit the bridge of his nose. 

Parker took advantage of his distraction to kiss him forcibly. Theo’s eyes went wide as the young guy’s tongue thrust inside his mouth. He tried to resist but couldn’t. Parker’s blunt tongue shoved inside him and then his mouth devoured him. He was kissing a man! He was kissing Parker!

“Yer Ted from now on, Ted,” Parker laughed, lifting his face away after smothering him for what seemed like an eternity. “Ted,”  he repeated. “Ted Barton.”

Something in Theo’s mind snapped as Parker said this and he nodded in agreement despite the fact his whole body was prickling with alarm. As he shook his head, he knew something important had just changed but he couldn’t remember what. His name was Ted Barton, right? Yeah, Ted Barton. That was his name.

Parker was watching him closely. When Ted met his eyes, he smiled. It was a cold smile. “I like you, Ted,” he stated in a voice that could only be described as cocky. “And I’ll like you even more after I fuck your senseless. Down on the bench. Now!”

Ted’s brain incinerated with terror as Parker shoved him down onto the cushion of the bench press. Too stunned to react, he lay there on his belly with his bare ass shoved outward as Parker ripped off his jockstrap and forced the nasty thing inside his mouth. He choked, inhaling the disgusting garment and would have passed out if Parker hadn’t slapped him hard on the ass. He coughed, dislodging the filthy jock just enough to gasp for air.

>>>SPLAT!<<<

Ted froze at the sound behind him. He didn’t need to see Parker to know what he was doing. The boy had just spit into his palm. A moment later, the splat was followed by the unmistakable sound of slathering. Parker was slicking up his pole!

Parker was not gentle.

Without warning, he rammed into Ted. His eyes bugged out and his asshole screamed in agony as the young guy savaged his virgin hole. The jockstrap stuffed inside his mouth deadened his frenzied screams but it did nothing to ameliorate the humiliation and self-loathing washing over him. And it didn’t stop the tears.

He couldn’t believe that Parker would do this to him. He’d trusted the kid! He’d gone out of his way to befriend him and had been unfailingly kind to him. Why would the boy return this kindness with brutality?

Because he can.

Ted screwed his eyes shut, trying to squelch the tears but it was no use. His mind and body might be overwhelmed with the excruciating pain of the rape but enough awareness remained to answer this horrible question. Even as his sphincter shredded under Parker’s onslaught, he knew why Parker was doing it. He knew why.

And somehow that made the violation even worse.

***

Back in the locker room, Parker fished the dirty jock out of Ted’s mouth and pulled him into the shower to rinse off. Ted was unresponsive. He roused from his stupor, though, when Parker looked down at the drain and crowed, “Ha! It’s finally kicking in. Your hair’s washing off just like I wanted!”

Ted followed his gaze, jerking with surprise when he saw the sodden mass of blond hair clogging the drain at their feet.

It was his hair!

And not just the hair from his body.

Reading his horrified thoughts, Parker reached up and grabbed a hank of the hair on his head, grinning maliciously when he pulled it out with almost no resistance. He held it before Ted’s widening eyes, gloating, “You’re gonna be bald from now on, Ted. A big, bald, badass thug!” 

He stared at the lank, dripping locks in Parker’s hand, unable to comprehend how his hair could have fallen out so easily. What was going on? What the fuck was going on? The whole day tipped precariously toward unreality as Ted felt his grasp on reality loosen.

His body shook as Parker yanked out more of his hair, throwing it onto the tiles at their feet. In short order, the kid had wiped his head clean of hair. As he stood there shivering in the spray of the shower, Parker continued wiping down his arms, chest, crotch, and legs until all of his precious hair was strewn at his feet. He was completely denuded. He looked down at himself in disbelief, no longer recognizing his body. Was that really what he looked like? What that really his body? He looked so…

He couldn’t finish the thought.

His shoulders slumped in defeat. His asshole throbbed from the rape. His chest and arms and legs screamed from the brutal workout. The ugly nose ring was so heavy that his nose ached. He was naked and bare of hair. He was…

What had Parker done to him?

“C’mon, Ted,” Parker called out, shattering his thoughts. “Get dressed. Ya got me hungry after that workout.”

Ted stumbled over to the bench where his dress shirt and slacks lay. He stared down them for a moment before doing as he’d been commanded. He got dressed. Or at least tried to.

His clothes were too tight.

His brow furrowed in confusion when he tried to pull his pants over his butt.

They barely fit.

He had to shimmy into them and even then the seam felt like it was going to split down the back. Worse, he couldn’t close the top button after he zipped up. He stood there, perplexed. How could his pants be so tight? They had fit fine that morning!

“Whatsa matter, Baldy?” Parker taunted. “Gittin’ too big fer yer britches?” He laughed harshly and Ted’s shoulders hunched. “Better get used to it, brah,” he continued. “It’s only gonna get worse from here. Yer gonna be a big, bloated muscle mule in no time!”

When Ted hung his head, Parker took pity on him. Pacing over, he held up Ted’s dress shirt, helping to guide his hand through the arm. He soon discovered that the shirt was tight on him, too; he couldn’t close the top three buttons. The collar of the shirt stretched wide and open, exposing his bare, hairless chest.

“Yer so fuggin’ gorgeous, I’m gonna shoot!” Parker murmured in his ear. “Too bad I’m so fuggin’ hungry or I’d bend ya over again and go at that hot hole.”

Ted shuddered. He was on the verge of losing it when Parker held up his index finger. Instantly, Ted froze in place.

“You will forget everything that just happened,” the kid pronounced. “Understand?”

Ted stood rigid. After a second, he nodded.

“Good.”

Sadly, Ted not only forgot about the events in the gym after that. He also forgot all about being an undercover police detective. From that day forward, he was simply Ted Barton, Parker’s personal sex toy.

***

“Eat up, Ted.”

Ted looked up in surprise at the huge plate of food sitting before him. He didn’t remember going downstairs to the bar. The last thing he remembered was working on that report back in the office…

“Yer hungry, aren’t ya, brah?”

He nodded. Yes. Yes, he was hungry. He was about to say as much when he felt a cool draft on his scalp. That’s weird, he thought, reaching up to touch his head.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” he yelled, whipping his hand away as if stung. He had no hair on top of his head!

Some of the patrons turned and looked quizzically in his direction as Parker smirked across the table at him. “Chillax, man,” he drawled. “Ya got yer hair buzzed at lunch, remember?”

Ted stared at him in confusion, reaching up again to massage the utterly smooth top of his head. “I…did?” His voice was quavery.

“Uh, yeah. I tried to talk ya outta it but ya wouldn’t listen,” Parker said, grabbing his burger and moving his nose ring out of the way so could take a bite. A big blob of mayo rolled down his chin as he added, “Just like the nose ring. Ya insisted even though I told ya not to do it.”

Ted shook his head, feeling the heavy ring slap against his lips. He didn’t remember getting the ring inserted through his septum, either. He shifted uncomfortably on his chair, realizing then that his pants were pinching him. And his skin felt different. Clammy or something. He reached down to loosen his belt and started in surprise when he realized it was uncinched and the top button was undone. And his shirt was open. Wide open…

Woah.

What was going on with his body? And what had happened to his chest hair?

“C’mon, brah,” Parker urged. “Yer food’s gettin’ cold. I’ll buy ya some nice clothes that fit ya better after we eat.”

Ted looked up at him, an odd sensation percolating throughout his body with these words. It was like the worries, concerns, confusion–everything!–just sort of evaporated from his mind. He lowered his eyes to his plate where two enormous, triple-decker burgers sat steaming, red juices running down onto the bun. He salivated and was reaching out to grab one when he remembered he was vegetarian.

Wasn’t he?

Or maybe he wasn’t?

He thought furiously, brow furrowed in concentration before a light went on in his head. Oh, yeah! He used to be vegetarian but now he loved meat. He couldn’t get enough meat. He wasn’t happy unless his mouth was full of meat.

Face breaking into a stupid grin, he grabbed the burger and, lifting his ring, jammed it into his mouth.

Parker watched him across the table with a satisfied smile.

***

Chapter 8

Ted at the Bullpen, one week later

“Where’s that report you promised me?” Parker prompted, rousing Ted from a contented slumber.

He cracked an eye, looking up to find his assistant standing over his desk. Wait, is he my assistant or am I his assistant? he wondered groggily while Parker tapped his foot. As was the case so often these days, though, his mind was sluggish and the answer eluded him. He shrugged, deciding that he must Parker’s assistant if the guy was asking him for a report.

“Well?” Parker prompted. “Are you going to make me wait until tomorrow again?”

Ted glanced at his watch and jerked upright in his chair.

“What the fuck?!”

Was that really his arm? When had his biceps gotten so huge? Even the muscles on his forearms were bulging.

More importantly, why was he almost naked?

He stared down at himself in consternation. He was decked out in a provocative, black leather harness and…

A black jockstrap?

And why were there suction cups on his nipples?

And–Fucking shit!–where had those mounded pecs come from?

Wait! Fuck that! Forget about the muscles, what had happened to all of his body hair?!

Panicked, he looked up at Parker only to find him smiling knowingly. “Yeah,” he drawled, “all those hours at the gym are paying off, huh? I’m not surprised the floor manager downstairs asked you to fill in on shift today.”

Ted gaped before nodding dumbly. Even though he had no idea what his boss was talking about, he knew that Parker liked it when he was agreeable and he didn’t want to upset him.

“But you have a job to do, Ted,” Parker added reprovingly. “I need you to focus on your work here or I’m going to have you moved downstairs permanently.”

Downstairs?

Permanently?

With the stupid muscle bulls?

But…

“You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

Ted shook his head vigorously and Parker slapped him on the shoulder, praising, “That’s a good bull! Now get to work.” He was turning to go back to his desk when he stopped and very deliberately reached down to cup the prominent bulge in his pants. “And if you’re really good,” he added, “you’ll get a…bonus…when you’re done.”

Ted’s cheeks flamed. He couldn’t believe his boss had just done that! And yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away that big bulge. He licked his lips, tongue slapping against his thick nose ring, a ring just like the one hanging through Parker’s nose. He smiled when he remembered getting the piercing on Parker’s urging. Parker had gotten him into weightlifting, too, and now he worked out religiously two or even three times a day. Usually, he went to the gym downstairs with Parker. It felt good to be with Parker. It felt especially good when Parker…

He flushed, seeing the evil twinkle in Parker’s eye.

Honestly, though, it wasn’t just the twinkle in his boss’ eye that made him flush. It was more than that. So much more. Parker Pendleton was such a stud! He was so tall and broad-shouldered. His killer green eyes and thick, black beard really got his pulse racing. Ted still marveled at the effect the guy had on him. Before he started working at the Bullpen, he’d only been with women.

But Parker had changed that.

Now Ted only liked men. No, scratch that. He only liked Parker. He couldn’t get enough of Parker. He loved being around Parker! He loved everything about the big, butch stallion. He got all warm and fuzzy and…aroused…when he was around. He felt his crotch in its confining jockstrap sizzle with these thoughts and reached down surreptitiously to cup his package.

And then let out a startled yelp when he touched it.

What had happened to his cock and balls!?

“Hehe,” Parker chuckled, amused by his surprised expression. “Yeah, yer gettin’ bigger everywhere.”

Ted barely heard him. He was too busy studying his crotch in amazement. His package was plastered against the cup of his jockstrap, really filling it out. Even though he knew he was at work and shouldn’t do so, he pulled down the waistband of the jockstrap and stared. His denuded equipment was packed into the pouch. Flaccid, his fat cock had to be at least seven inches long and his nuts were the size of large chicken eggs.

“Wow.”

“Ya can say that again, buddy,” Parker said, sauntering over to sit on the corner of his desk. “Yer still not as big as yer boss, though. Nope,” he chortled, “I’m still the big man around here.”

With that, he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. Ted goggled at the enormous piece that flopped out. It was so big and fat that it put the massive endowments of the muscle bulls downstairs to shame. Parker smirked as he reached down and jacked himself, pulling his incredibly long foreskin back and forth over the length of his shaft.

“Yeah,” he murmured with false modesty, “it’s real..hard…being in charge around here but somebody’s gotta do it.”

Ted couldn’t help it; he was drooling. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from that deliciously huge slab of meat.

“You know what?” Parker asked, waving his salami before Ted’s hungry gaze. “Fuck that report! Lemme at yer mancunt!”

Before Ted had time to brace himself, Parker had tipped him out of his chair. He toppled to the floor, managing at the last minute to catch himself. He grunted in chagrin when he realized that he’d landed in just the right position: He was splayed out on his hands and knees, chest forward, back arched, and–most importantly–ass in the air. He sat there, back straining and hungry hole eagerly awaiting what was next. When Parker hesitated, though, he looked over his shoulder in confusion.

“Hey, dude!” his boss prompted impatiently, “Lift yer fuckin’ tail!”

“Huh?”

Parker exhaled loudly, slapping him hard on the ass. Then he did something that completely confused and terrified Ted.

He pulled on…something…attached to his ass.

Ted bawled at the alien sensation, so bizarre and yet so undeniable. When he turned to look behind him, he almost fainted at the sight of the…thing…that Parker was waving around at him. And yet there was no denying what it was: A long, tapering tail tipped with a tassel of coarse, straw-colored hair.

He bawled again. This time more loudly and pathetically. “WAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAH!”

“Oh, shut up and lift it, you dumb bull!” Parker chastised. “You know I can’t fuck you with it clamped down over yer hole.”

When Ted failed to obey him, he sighed and twisted the tail in his grip. Ted wailed in pain, instinctively clenching his ass. He cowered in shame as he felt the tail respond, flopping up and over his rump.

“That’s better. Now spread yer cheeks.”

Ted quivered in humiliation but he obeyed, spreading his knees and pushing his ass backward until he felt the cool office air caress his pucker. The tassel of his tail tickled the small of his back as Parker cleared his throat and spit into his hand. Ted was so distracted by his new tail (Tail? He had a tail? Really?) that he wasn’t prepared when Parker jammed a thick finger inside him. He jerked and moaned, the ring through his nose slapping against his chin.

“Yer so loose,” Parker marveled, sounding both smug and proud at the same time. “Yer ass lips are gettin’ saggy!” Ted started to wilt in shame but he perked up again when Parker reassured, “Hey, Bullhead, don’t worry. With a cock my size, yer always gonna be tight.” He laughed, jamming in a couple more fingers and rolling them around before spitting into his palm. 

As was always the case with Parker, he entered Ted violently and without warning. It was almost as if he enjoyed Ted’s startled yelp when he thrust inside. Almost like he enjoyed inflicting pain. Almost like… 

Ted’s hips buckled as Parker rammed into him and he lifted his head, bellowing at the top of his lungs. Sure, it was humiliating being fucked like an animal but it was also delicious and his butthole craved the abuse. He was Parker’s to use after all.

He was Parker’s bull.

***

Ted licked the floor afterward, cleaning up the splatters of cum that had leaked out of his freshly gaping hole. He was busy, head down and lapping contentedly, when Parker patted him fondly on the head, praising, “You were great, Ted. So fuckin’ raunchy, so fuckin’ bestial.” 

Ted smiled happily. He loved pleasing Parker Pendleton. He loved it!

Parker was lifting his hand away when he paused, reaching back down to touch his head. Ted froze as his boss traced a forefinger in a small circle on the side of his bald pate, murmuring, “Wow, yer horns are really comin’ in, Bullhead! Soon, I’ll have sumthin’ to grab onto while I ride that phat ass!”

***

Ted at the Bullpen, a couple weeks later…

The muscle bulls from the bar were lifting weights when Ted and Parker entered the gym in the basement of the Bullpen. Ted turned to his boss, suddenly self-conscious. As always, Parker had commanded him to wear his tattered and stained jockstrap, even forcing him to wear it on the elevator ride down to the basement. Ted felt his shoulders growing hot as he stood there at the entrance to the gym and he swished his tail nervously.

“C’mon, Bullhead!” his boss cajoled. “Go in there and lift!”

A couple of the bulls looked over at them quizzically, making Ted anxious. He hesitated, shrinking back into the shadows.

“Fer chrissake!” Parker exclaimed, taking him by the arm and pulling him into the room. “You’re not gonna get any bigger by standing around. Now lift!”

Ted shuffled forward, keenly aware of the scrutiny of all those ugly muscle bulls. They were ridiculously pumped up, wearing skimpy shorts that did nothing to conceal their inflated male equipment or their hugely swollen buttocks. Their tasseled tails flicked back and forth and they lowered their heads, dipping their horns in a challenging fashion as they parted before them.

Parker seemed oblivious to their audience and forced Ted to lie down on a bench right in the middle of the group of bulls. He lay there meekly, acutely aware of his ridiculously revealing attire. As much as he hated being the center of attention, he hated associating with the bulls even more. He didn’t want anyone to think for a moment that he was like them. They were nothing but a bunch of overfed losers who were too stupid to get a real job. The only thing they had going for them was their mutant size. He, on the other hand, was a college graduate. He had two degrees! He was a prof–

“Fucking lift, you big idiot!” Parker yelled, startling Ted out of his private pep talk.

Ted stared up at him, flushing with embarrassment. How dare Parker call him an idiot! How dare–

“Are you a fucking retard or sumthin’?” his boss barked. “Lift the fuckin’ bar!”

He jerked, stung, but ended up raising his arms and lifting the bar as Parker commanded. Parker was his boss, after all. 

The bar was really heavy but he nonetheless managed to pump out ten reps. When he was done, he looked up and saw that Parker had put five, 45-pound weights on each side. Holy shit! He’d just pressed almost five hundred pounds! He sat up, rubbing his aching pecs and beaming with pride.

“Good bull! That’s a good bull!” Parker praised. “Soon you’ll be just as big and strong as the rest of these guys.”

The muscle bulls around them snorted and Ted didn’t know whether to be flattered or annoyed. He sat there, puzzling it out, while Parker slapped on another couple forty-five pounders. 

He was still puzzling a few moments later when Parker reached down and twisted one of his nipples, sneering, “Jesus, look at the fucking tits on ya! They’re fucking huge!”

Ted yelped, pulling away and rubbing his nipple. Parker only laughed at his look of reproach, though, teasing, “Whatsa matter, Bullhead? Don’t like yer teats?”

A couple of the muscle bulls guffawed and Ted covered his pecs protectively. “I don’t have t-t-teats!” he stammered, wondering why his voice was so thick. He sounded really slow! “Not teats!” he repeated, startled again by the weird tone in his voice. It came out almost like a dull bellow.

Parker was unimpressed. “Face it, Bullhead,” he goaded, grabbing one of the horns that had mysteriously begun to sprout out of the side of his head and yanking him around so that he was forced to look at himself in the bank of mirrors along the far wall. “Just face it! Yer a turning into a big, stupid bull.” 

Ted wailed in protest and then gaped at the mirror. His eyes darted from his reflection over to the muscle bulls’ and then back again. He had horns…just like them. He had a long tail…just like them. He had overgrown muscles…just like them. He blinked, unwilling to believe what he was seeing.

The…bull…of a man staring back at him was stacked with muscles upon muscles, his arms, pecs, and chest bulging. His pale, hairless skin was so taut that every striation, every bump, ridge and curve, was perfectly–one might even say, obscenely–defined. His traps were so overdeveloped that they’d swallowed his neck, making him look like a fucking thug. And his shiny, bald head only served to draw more attention to the pair of black horns jutting out over his ears. His facial features were thicker and heavier than he remembered. His eyes were scrunched together and his nose was too fat and wide. And, of course, there was the thick, black ring hanging off his septum.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he saw that he was almost as overly muscled as the bulls standing around him. Almost.

But not quite.

The big difference was that he wasn’t stupid. He had a real job! He was an accountant! He was…

He was so busy battling the unwelcome recognition of himself as muscle beast that he didn’t notice the bulls around him had begun massaging their groins. And he couldn’t see Parker doing the same thing because his boss was positioned behind him in the mirror. Not until the guys yanked their shorts down around their meaty thighs and whipped out their hideously bloated cocks did he give a start. He sat up straight on the cushion and tried to get up but Parker’s firm hand on his shoulder prevented him from doing so. He froze, staring fearfully as the guys surrounded him, pulling on their monster-sized meat and closing in until there was no escape.

He was trapped.

“Go on, Bullhead,” Parker urged. “Pull out your meatstick. Show us what ya got.”

Ted quailed, imploring Parker with panic-stricken eyes, but it was no use. Parker’s hand squeezed painfully on his shoulder, and Ted had no choice but to reach down with shaking hands and lower the pouch of his crusty jockstrap.

The ginormous cock that flopped out shocked even Parker.

“Holy fuck!” his boss exhaled. “Look at that bullcock!”

It was true. He had a bullcock!

The pink and hairless organ that sprang out rivaled the biggest muscle bulls in size. Unable to stop himself, he picked it up, stunned by its weight. How could a cock be this heavy? And he only had a semi! How could…?

Something wet landed on his thigh.

He looked down.

Cum.

It was a splat of cum!

This was followed quickly by another splat. Then another. Soon, viscous precum was raining down on him as the muscle bulls and Parker jerked over him. Ted cringed but he was unable to shrink away from the shower of cum. He whimpered. He cried out.

It was no use.

If the guys had been content simply to jerk off on him, Ted would have been upset but ultimately gotten over it. After all, Parker did far worse to him on a daily basis. Unfortunately, he wasn’t so lucky. After his crotch and thighs were liberally coated with pre, Parker hauled him off the cushion and shoved him onto the floor where a couple huge brutes forced him onto his hands and knees. Parker slapped him hard across the face and shoved his cock in Ted’s mouth when he cried out. Not wasting any time, his boss took Ted’s horns in his hands and thrust forward, making him choke on his thick piece. Ted was struggling to pull away when he felt his ass cheeks spread out behind him. Someone grabbed his tail and yanked it upward. He wailed in protest but his bawling was muffled by Parker’s pulsing organ. Before he could brace for it, the biggest, hardest, fattest cock rammed into him, sending him hurtling forward. He swallowed more of Parker’s cock, gagging. As he gasped for air, rough hands pushed him back into position and held him in place. His eyes rolled back in his head and he gurgled in agony as the bull rammed into him again, thrusting in so deeply that Ted could feel that mutant cock pushing against his stomach. He rammed again. And again. And again. And again.

That afternoon, every muscle bull had a go at Ted’s hole at least twice and some of them ‘enjoyed’ him several times before Parker finally chased them away and had a long, slow leisurely fuck of his own. Ted’s bullhole was well-used, sore, red, and dripping by the time he collapsed down on the cum-washed floor. His hole never recovered. For the rest of his life, Ted Barton had a gaping man pussy.

***

Ted at the Bullpen, some weeks later…

Ted bawled in frustration as his thick fingers once again pressed down on the wrong keys on the keyboard. He scrunched up his big, sloping brow, trying to make his fingers work right but it was no use. Even if he used just his pinky finger, he still ended up hitting three keys at once.

“Whatsa matter, Bullhead?” Parker called out behind him. “Forget yer password again?”

“Nah,” Ted moaned. “My ‘puter’s not workin’ right. It broken!”

There was pause followed by an audible sigh while his boss got up from his desk. Ted looked away, ashamed, as the big man came to stand beside him, hands planted on his hips. He hated disappointing Parker!

“We both know it’s not the computer’s fault,” Parker chided as he stared down at him. “You’re just too thoopid to do your job.” 

“I…n-n-not…thoopid!” Ted stammered in a voice that sounded dull even to his ears. “I got d-d-d-duh-grees! I’m ed-ya-cay-ted!”

Parker sighed again, reaching down to flip Ted’s nose ring up and down with his finger. When he spoke, his tone was tender. No amount of tenderness, however, could soften the blow of what he said next: “I think it’s time for you to move downstairs.”

Chest clenching, Ted bellowed in protest but Parker raised his hand, soothing, “Hey, Bullhead! I’m not saying that you’re fired or that I’m kicking you outta my bed or anything. I’m just gonna move ya downstairs where you’ll, well, where you’ll fit in better. You like the guys down there, don’t ya?”

Ted shook his head, fighting back tears. He hated the muscle bulls downstairs! Hated them! They were just a bunch of dummies! He wasn’t like them! He was an executive! He was smart! He had two degrees and–

“C’mon, Ted,” Parker urged, interrupting his chaotic thoughts. “Get up and take a good, long look at yourself.”

Reluctantly, he allowed his boss to lift him up from his chair. He stood there with his eyes screwed shut, though, refusing to look at his mostly naked body. (He’d stopped wearing business attire weeks ago when Parker said he preferred him in a jockstrap and harness.)

“Open yer eyes, Bullhead!”

Gritting his teeth, Ted obeyed. He would have fallen over if Parker hadn’t grabbed his elbow to steady him. The floor groaned under his weight and Ted could have sworn he felt it give beneath him as he stared down at himself in disbelief. 

He was bigger than ever! His bloated pecs and stretched-out teats were so heavy they pointed directly at the floor! His formerly ripped abs had given way to a fat, round belly with papery skin. His hulking thighs swayed and wobbled like overstuffed saddlebags. And, worst of all, his cock and balls were now so inflated that they stretched the super-sized pouch of his jockstrap to the breaking point.

He gaped down at his body, wave after wave of revulsion rolling over him. “NO!” he cried, shaking his big head furiously. “No! Gotta brain! Smart! I’m s-s-smart!”

“Uh, no, you’re not,” Parker stated flatly. “Yer dumb as a fuckin’ post, buddy. Ya can’t even spell yer own name and it’s only three letters long! There’s a word for that and it’s thoopid!”

“NO! NO! NO! NO! S-S-S-Smart!” Ted protested, putting his hands over his ears. When his fingers touched the huge horns growing out of his head, though, he pulled them away and sank to his knees in misery.

Parker let him marinate in the sick reality of his situation for a time, seeming to relish his horror. Finally, though, he grew weary of it. While Ted blubbered, his tail whipping back and forth, his boss hauled him back onto his feet and yanked his jockstrap unceremoniously down to his knees. His ridiculously swollen equipment tumbled out, plummeting toward the floor.

“See that?” his boss challenged. “Know what that is?”

Ted shook his head, hating the sight of his mutant appendage. His elephant-sized balls were flopping back and forth by his knees. And his cock–his precious cock!–his cock had swollen up fatter than his upper arm and had grown more than a yard long. It lay there, hanging out before him, limp and listless between his massive thighs. The sad truth was that Ted hadn’t been able to get it up for quite some time now. He leaked pre almost continuously but couldn’t cum no matter how hard he worked at it. 

He was impotent.

“That,” Parker said, pointing down at his crotch, “is your brain now, Ted. That,” he repeated over Ted’s anguished howling, “is your fucking brain. That is why you’re so fucking stupid and can’t think about anything but getting your hole stuffed. Your brain is nothing more than a fucking limp and useless sausage dangling between your legs. Got it?”

Ted’s mountainous shoulders slumped as tears poured from his eyes. Nothing, however, could stop him from responding to Parker’s command. Nothing could stop him from nodding his great, bald head up and down in agreement. He was a big, stupid, useless muscle bull. Nothing more than a stupid muscle bull.

“Good,” Parker said. “Now get yer phat ass down there and do your job. It’s the only thing you’re qualified for now.” When Ted failed to move, he exhaled in disgust and, taking him by his horns, dragged him to the door, harumphing, “Fine. I guess I have to grab the fucking bull by the horns and haul you downstairs myself!”

***

Chapter 9

Tyson at Alexei’s home

Tyson tracked down Alexei Bortnikov in the laboratory located in the basement of his home. Alexei’s son – a ridiculously cute teenage boy with big, brown eyes and a seductive grin – led him downstairs and announced his arrival to his father. Alexei emerged from a strange room that appeared to be a prison cell, wearing a white lab coat and carrying something that looked like a high-tech cattle prod. Before Tyson could get a clear view of either the cell or the device, though, Alexei stuck the prod in a cabinet and closed the door behind him. His face broke into a broad smile when he saw who waiting for him.

“Ah, Tyson!” he exclaimed, shaking his hand vigorously. “I’m so glad you stopped by!” Turning to the boy, he murmured, “Thank you for bringing him to me, Ethan. Now go back upstairs and play with your brother, Ok?” 

The lad nodded and scampered off but not before favoring Tyson with a sly wink. For some reason, this made Tyson blush and he cleared his throat uncomfortably as he watched Ethan run up the stairs. He couldn’t help noticing that the boy had an exceedingly plump bottom…

“He is quite a spirited boy,” Alexei said, noting Tyson’s color and shaking his head. “I’ve tried my best to raise him right but sometimes I wonder what sort of trouble he gets into when I’m not around.”

“Uh, yeah, quite,” Tyson agreed, nervously looking down at the floor and studying his feet.

Alexei shook his head before turning back to him. In Russian, he addressed Tyson by his Chechen name, saying, “Now, my dear friend Rachid, what has brought you to my laboratory? Surely, it wasn’t to discuss my wayward son!”

In answer, Tyson held out his iPhone.

“What is this?” Alexei queried, squinting down at the smartphone.

“It represents a Bitcoin transfer that I am preparing to initiate into your account,” Tyson explained, pointing at the sum on the screen. “I believe this covers my debts with substantial interest. In fact, it is ten times your original investment in me and the club.”

Alexei blinked, looking up from the screen with lifted eyebrows. “But, why? Why pay me this money?”

“Because I want out,” Tyson said, stuffing the phone back into his pocket. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what? Manage the club?” Alexei pressed. “But you are so good at it!”

“No,” Tyson replied, shaking his head. “I can’t sell people anymore. It’s slavery, Alexei!”

“Slavery?” the Russian repeated, looking stricken. “Such a terrible word to describe our business! Really, Rachid! Slavery?”

Tyson held up his hand. “It’s slavery, Alexei. Pure and simple and I don’t want anything to do with it.”

Alexei stuck his hands in his lab coat, face glum. “Honestly, my friend, I don’t see how our business is any different than the legal crimes committed everyday by multinational corporations. How is selling our products any different than raping the earth for its mineral wealth to power our electronic doodads, forcing children to labor in coffee plantations so we can sip our morning coffee, or poisoning the air with smog from factories that churn out plastic junk for American consumers?”

“Alexei,” Tyson said in a weary voice, “You know the difference. Don’t muddy the waters.”

“But I still don’t get it, Rachid,” Bortnikov protested. “Why this change? Why now?”

Tyson sighed heavily, leaning against an expensive-looking machine with flashing lights and a whirring motor. Part of him wanted to ask Bortnikov about it and another part of him didn’t want to know. In the end, he decided not to indulge his curiosity and stared down at his feet, answering the Russian’s question. “Emin,” he stated. “It’s Emin.”

“Emin?” Alexei repeated. “What does he have to do with our business?”

“Nothing and that’s the point,” Tyson said, lifting his head to meet the Russian’s startled gaze. “I can’t explain it very well. Ever since…well, ever since Nikki came into my life, I feel like Emin’s ghost is haunting me. I know it sounds silly but I believe the only way for him to be at rest is if it I become the man he believed me to be. I want to be a better man, Alexei. For Emin. For Nikki. And for, well, for everyone else. I figure that since you gave me a new life, identity, and body, I owe it to Emin to start fresh. Alexei,” he said, fixing the Russian with a resolute stare, “I will make Ermin proud. I will change for him.”

“Ah,” Bortnikov exhaled, crossed his arms and nodding. He was silent for so long that Tyson worried that he’d offended him somehow. When Alexei looked up at him, though, he was smiling. It was a sad smile but a smile nonetheless. “I understand, Rachid,” he murmured. “I understand.”

“You do?” Tyson asked, unable to keep the hopefulness out of his voice. He knew that he was playing a dangerous game with the Russian and that betraying any emotion was unwise because Alexei might use it against him. Still, he didn’t care. He didn’t fucking care! He was done playing games.

“Yes, I do. And your timing is actually quite surprising.”

“How so?”

The corner of Alexei’s mouth lifted in a half smile as he replied, “I was about to reach out to you with a similar offer because our, ahem, employer has asked us to close down the Tutti Frutti.”

Tyson was rendered momentarily speechless by this news. It seemed too good to be true, especially given his decision to leave the Tutti Frutti. In fact, it was a little too coincidental and he narrowed his eyes, saying, “Forgive me if I’m skeptical but…”

Unexpectedly, Alexei laughed, clapping him on the back. “Ah, Rachid!” he chortled, “You know me too well, I’m afraid. First, though, let me assure you that it is true. Our employer is closing down our business because of the market.”

“The market?”

“Yes, the market has dried up,” Alexei explained. “The recession in South America means that our clients Brazil and Argentina can no longer afford our, um, stock and the crown prince of Saudi Arabia’s recent problems have made it…difficult…to get our shipments fenced. Add in the Mueller investigation and you have the recipe for disaster. The Wagner Group is looking to divest in all of its assets here. They say they are very grateful for our services but do not think it is prudent to continue.”

Tyson’s head was spinning with these revelations. Alexei had never been so upfront with him and he marveled at the man’s candor…but he also knew that the Russian wasn’t telling him everything. “Alexei,” he asked suspiciously, “what are you up to?”

Bortnikov feigned innocence, giving him a wide-eyed stare and batting his beautiful, brown eyes in a way that Tyson found disconcerting. He broke the spell a moment later, though, when he grinned and held a finger up to his lips, saying, “It’s a secret but I assure you it’s on the up and up. I’m doing nothing illegal…”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Tyson commented drily.

“Nothing illegal under Russian law, that is,” Alexei clarified with a sly wink.

“Alexei, you’re terrible!”

“Terribly good, I hope!” Bortnikov joked, bumping his shoulder into Tyson’s.

“You’re terribly good and terribly bad,” Tyson quipped. “Sometimes at the same time.” Before Alexei could complain, though, he continued, growing suddenly sober, “but I do want to thank you, my friend. I owe you everything, you know?”

“You do?”

“Yes,” Tyson replied, blinking back sudden tears. When he tried to continue, his voice broke and he had to wait several seconds to collect himself before he could finish, “You saved my life, Alexei, and the lives of my family. And you avenged Emin for me. For that alone, I can never repay you.”

Alexei took all of this in silence, holding his arms around his chest and staring thoughtfully into space. After a while, he reached out and slung an arm around Tyson’s shoulder and hugged him, saying, “I did nothing that you that you wouldn’t have done for me, my friend. And, before you continue extolling my supposed virtues please realize that I always put my loyalties to my homeland first. I am a true Russian patriot–”

“Except when it came to the war in Chechnya!” Tyson interjected.

“No,” Bortnikov rejoined, shaking his finger at Tyson. “Even in Chechnya I did as I was told and I fulfilled the mission: I brought Chechnya back into the fold.”

“But you intervened!” Tyson protested. “I was a rebel, Alexei! I fought against Russia! And yet you saved me and so many others!”

“That is also true,” Alexei agreed. “When necessary, I find ways to satisfy both my morals and my orders. Do I need to remind you that you yourself–a former enemy–have been working for the Russian state for the past ten years?”

This gave Tyson pause and he contemplated the man’s words for a time before finally bursting into laughter, exclaiming, “Oh, Alexei! You are a sly fox! A sly fox who plays a long game!”

“Quite.”

“Does that mean that I am free to go now?” Tyson pressed. “You will release me from my contract?”

Alexei nodded, saying, “I will on one condition.”

The hope that Tyson had been feeling suddenly died as he felt his chest clench. He’d known that this wouldn’t be easy; Alexei Bortnikov never let anyone go without exacting a price. There was always a price to pay. Always. But–Damn it!–he didn’t give a fuck! He was prepared to pay any price. He didn’t care what it was. Squaring his shoulders, he demanded, “And what is this condition?”

The Russian was watching his face closely and his eyes danced with merriment as he replied, “That you keep your money and use it to care for the Teams from Tutti Frutti and the muscle bulls from the Bullpen. The Wagner Group,” he explained when he noticed Tyson’s brow furrowing, “has asked me to close that establishment as well.”

Relief washing over him, Tyson couldn’t resist taking Alexei into his arms and hugging him as he promised, “It’s a deal, my friend! You have a deal!”

“I had no doubt that you would accept, Rachid,” Alexei declared. “You are a fine man. I am actually a little jealous of your detective boy, Nikki.” Tyson laughed and was preparing to reply when Bortnikov held up his hand, saying, “Which reminds me. We will have to throw the police department a bone, as it were. Otherwise, they will keep digging until they find something on us. It is better if we ‘help’ them discover the, ahem, true masterminds behind the human trafficking operation. Don’t you agree?”

Tyson smiled, crossing his arms. “Let me guess. You have a plan, don’t you?”

Alexei’s face lit up with evil glee as he pronounced, “I do! I do, indeed! Now here’s what we’re going to do…”

***

Chapter 10

Nikki and Ted at Police Headquarters

Inspector Garcia gave a start when she entered the interrogation room and beheld what had become of her detectives, Nikki Baez and Ted Barton. She schooled her features quickly but Nikki noticed her hands were shaking when she sat down across the table from them. In position on either side of the door, two police officers–one tall and blond like Ted had been and the other dark and muscular like Nikki used to be–stood staring straight ahead, their expressions neutral. Nikki had seen them checking him and Ted out, though, when they thought he wasn’t looking.

Nikki kept his gaze fixed down at the floor, embarrassed. It was the first time Garcia had seen him and Theo–er, Ted–since they’d returned to the force. He shifted in his chair, glad that the officers had found one with a cushion wide enough for his huge ass. His little legs dangled down, not reaching the floor, as he cast a glance over to his buddy. Ted Barton sat slumped down in a huge, reinforced throne-like seat that nonetheless buckled under his massive bulk. His mouth was hanging open and his breathing was labored, eyes staring vacantly ahead. Nikki shivered. 

Of the two of them, Ted had definitely suffered the worst fate. He still couldn’t believe that the stupid bull of a man was really his friend, the formerly skinny bookworm! Ted’s enormously bloated muscles were straining against his pale, hairless skin. He had no visible neck and his forehead sloped forward in a simian fashion. Or was that a bovine fashion? The  huge pair of black horns sprouting from the sides of his head were even more stunning given Ted’s completely bald pate. Not a trace of his blond hair remained unless you considered the yellow tuft of hair on the end of the dude’s long tail. Add in the huge nose ring and his ridiculously inflated male appendage and you had the recipe for a major freak.

Nikki shivered again. He looked away from Ted and ended up catching a glance from Tyson. His beautiful lover sat apart, hands between his legs and looking down at the floor. He had cut his long, brown hair and now sported a stylish brush cut. Somehow, though, the short hair made him look both younger and more butch. On top of that, he was wearing a pair of jeans and an A&F t-shirt that set off his muscular frame. The sight of him alone was enough to get Nikki’s blood pumping. He couldn’t wait to ride that big, thick cock when this was over…

“Officers Baez and Barton,” the inspector began in a gruff tone as she eyed them from across the table, “I want to apologize for bungling this investigation so badly. Please know that I hold myself to blame. It seems our trust in Bradley Whalen was misplaced. We didn’t realize that he had been compromised and was fabricating his reports until last week. And by then, of course, he had disappeared. 

“Fortunately for us–and the victims of the human trafficking ring he was working for–we were able to track down two of his accomplices.” She paused to look significantly through the one-way glass window behind her where two, glum-looking handcuffed men were seated. Pursing her lips, she concluded, “With their cooperation, we will bring him into custody. I assure you that justice will be served.”

Silence.

“Er, thanks,” Nikki piped up when he realized that Ted wasn’t going to respond; the big beast of a man didn’t seem to be following the conversation.

Garcia nodded, thin-lipped as ever. “I know it can’t begin to make up for the…indignities…that you have suffered but my hope is that our doctors will be able to help you regain something of your former selves.”

When neither Ted nor Nikki made a reply to this, she motioned over to Tyson, saying, “We owe a huge debt to Mr. Stephens here. Had he not come forward with information on the ring, you may have been sold into slavery.”

Tyson didn’t look up and Nikki noticed that his ears had turned red. He watched him closely, puzzled. Tyson should have been proud but instead seemed to shrink down into his chair.

If Inspector Garcia noticed the change in his demeanor, though, she didn’t comment on it. Taking a breath, she nodded toward the men in the window behind her, continuing, “Thanks to him, we have captured two of the masterminds behind the ring. Mr. Parker Pendleton and Mr. Carl ‘Cookie’ Sparling will spend the rest their lives behind bars if the DA’s office is successful in prosecuting their case.” She paused significantly, holding up her hand and stating emphatically, “And the DA will be successful, I guarantee you. The evidence that Mr. Stephens provided is quite damning.”

Nikki looked through the one-way glass behind Inspector Garcia where Sparling and Pendleton were sitting at a table in handcuffs. As he stared, Cookie raised his head and fixed his gaze at the window. It was probably Nikki’s imagination but it seemed like Sparling could actually see them. Instinctively, he shrank down in his chair.

“I’m innocent!” Sparling yelled, raising his wrists and rattling his handcuffs in desperation. “Tyson is the real criminal! I didn’t know he was selling people! You have to believe me!”

“I’m innocent, too!” the other guy, Parker Pendleton, chimed in. His deep voice boomed through the intercom as he shouted, “A Russian is behind the whole thing! His name is Alexei Bortnikov! I can prove it!”

Even though he knew that Pendleton was responsible for Ted’s ignominious transformation, Nikki felt a frisson of desire pass through his body as he looked upon the man. There was no doubt about it: Parker Pendleton was a sizzlingly hot stud. Tall, bearded, and muscular with piercing green eyes, Parker was a slab of dominant beef…

“He’s right.”

All heads in the room swiveled to Tyson. He was looking down at his hands but he lifted his head and fixed Inspector Garcia with an anguished look as he repeated, “He’s right.”

Garcia blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Both Sparling and Pendleton are right,” Tyson said evenly. “I am to blame. I ran the ring out of Tutti Frutti. I sold more than a hundred men into slavery.”

Nikki had to force himself not to jump up and shake Tyson. He kept his expression carefully unreadable, though; he didn’t want to do anything that might indicate he knew more than he was letting on. While outwardly seeming to be calm, inwardly he was a mess. Why was Tyson doing this when he was so close to extricating himself from the sordid business of the club?

“Mr. Stephens,” the inspector sighed, “I appreciate your sense of loyalty but you do not need to take the fall for these men. We have done a thorough investigation and have found you to be completely blameless. And, as for this Alexei Bortnikov…” her voice trailed off as she struggled to find words. Finally, she shook her head, stating flatly, “Mr. Alexei Bortnikov died in 1982, almost ten years before the fall of the Soviet Union. He never even set foot in this country. His son, General Alexander Bortnikov is the current Director of the FSB, the Russian equivalent of the CIA but I assure you that he is not involved. He has never visited the United States, let alone our city. Now, if you would please–”

Tyson shook his head. “No, you’re wrong. Alexei Bortnikov is definitely still alive and living in this city. I can take you to his–”

“That won’t be necessary,” Garcia said, holding up her hand. “Clearly, the strain of this investigation has been too much for you, Mr. Stephens. This is not an uncommon reaction for people in your position. I believe the clinical term is ‘Stockholm Syndrome’. I recommend taking some time off after this, getting some rest and relaxation…”

“Why won’t you believe me?” Tyson demanded. “I’m telling you the truth! I am guilty! I even have proof!” Pulling his iPhone out of his pocket, he held it up, saying, “Here, take this. I’ll give you my passwords! Everything you need is in here!”

Nikki watched breathlessly as Inspector Garcia inclined her head and the blond cop standing behind her moved across the room to take the proffered iPhone. After he’d taken it from Tyson, Garcia concluded, “Alright, I’ll call your bluff, Mr. Stephens. We will examine your phone for evidence related to this case. And we will remand you into police custody pending the results.”

Tyson sagged down in his chair, breathing, “Thank you. Thank you, Inspector Garcia!”

Garcia raised an eyebrow, commenting, “This is most unusual. In all my time on the force, I’ve never had someone demand to be arrested.” She pondered Tyson for a moment before pushing up from the table and walking to the door, saying, “Officers Baez and Barton, you may go. I am placing you both on indefinite leave until after the trial.”

Nikki’s heart was in his throat as he cast a covert glance over to Tyson. His lover wouldn’t meet his gaze, though. His head was buried in his hands.

***

One week later, Nikki drove back to police headquarters in Tyson’s enormous, black SUV. It was the only vehicle big and powerful enough to hold the hulking Ted–barely. Nikki glanced back in the rearview mirror and grimaced at the sight of him crammed uncomfortably into the backseat, enormous shoulders nearly rubbing the glass on either side of him and horns pushing through the open moonroof. It was a good thing that Nikki was so short because he had to keep the front seat pushed all the way to the front to accommodate Ted’s legs behind him.

“You won’t have to get out,” he reassured Ted. “He said he’ll be waiting outside for us.”

Ted gave no indication that he’d heard much less understood him and Nikki grimaced. So far, the doctor’s treatments had done very little to restore the former detective’s intellect; Ted seemed just as dim as ever, although sometimes Nikki thought he could see the spark of something in his eyes. It was probably just wishful thinking, though.

He pulled up in front of the police station to find Tyson had been true to his word. The beautiful young man was leaning nonchalantly against a concrete barricade, wearing the same clothes he’d had on the week before during their meeting with Inspector Garcia. Nikki tooted the horn as he swung the car into the parking area. Tyson pulled open the passenger door and hopped in, favoring Nikki with a warm smile as he folded his long legs against the dashboard.

“Thanks for picking me up!” he said, looking significantly down at Nikki’s feet. “I see you figured out how to reach the pedals.”

Nikki flushed. “Yeah, it took some doing but I can reach ‘em. Just barely, though.”

Tyson nodded. “Do the doctors think they’ll be able to make you grow again?”

“Nah, probably not,” Nikki replied, shrugging. “But it’s Ok. I don’t mind being small. I’ve gotten kinda used to it. Ted, on the other hand…I wish there was some way to help him. He used to be so fucking brilliant! Now he’s…” his voice trailed off.

“Yeah,” Tyson said, exhaling. “I had no idea that Alexei had done that to him! I wish I could have stopped him.” He paused to turn around and place a hand on Ted’s massive knee, patting him fondly. “We’ll take care of you, buddy! Don’t worry! With the money I saved up from the club, we can live comfortably for the rest of our lives.”

Nikki smiled. The mansion that Tyson had purchased for Ted and the rest of the muscle bulls from The Bullpen was truly luxurious. A bunch of the guys from the Tutti Frutti had moved in as well and Nikki was happy to be reunited with so many of fellow Peaches. He still missed Tommi, though. So far, no one had been able to track down his whereabouts and Nikki feared the worst. He would lay awake at night worrying about his friend and hoping that he was somewhere safe.

Forcing these thoughts away, he asked Tyson about his release. His friend lifted his broad shoulders, saying, “They wouldn’t believe me, Nikki! And Alexei must have erased my iPhone somehow. When the police examined it, they didn’t find anything. They insisted on letting me go! They said they had no cause to keep me!”

“Tyson,” Nikki began, choosing his words carefully as he took his lover’s big hand, “it’s for the best. You can do more good out of prison than in it.”

Tyson scowled and was about to protest when a siren blared behind them and Nikki peered out the side mirror to see a police car careening around the corner. He pulled over to let it go past but was surprised when it moved in front of the SUV, blocking them in.

“Maybe they changed their minds?” Tyson asked hopefully, sitting up in his seat. “Maybe they’ve decided to arrest me after all!”

Nikki didn’t answer. He was too busy pulling out his wallet and fishing the vehicle registration out of the glove compartment. He rolled down his window and did a double take when he recognized the policemen stepping out of the squad car. It was the same two cops who had been present during their meeting with Inspector Garcia the week before.

“Officers, can I help–” he started to call out but the blond police officer cut him off.

“Step out of the vehicle,” the cop ordered. “You and Mr. Stephens. Now!”

Nikki swallowed, wondering what was going on. He cracked open the door and hopped down onto the street, waddling over to stand next to the SUV as Tyson joined him. The blond cop grinned at them as his partner, the big, muscular Latino guy, sauntered over.

“Are you finally ready to believe me?” Tyson demanded. (He was, Nikki couldn’t help noticing, even taller than the blond cop and more muscular than the Latino cop. He was magnificent!) Tyson put his wrists together, holding them out, repeating, “Well, do you finally believe what I told you?”

“Oh, we believe you alright,” the Latino cop murmured, favoring Nikki with a wink. “We believe everything you told us even if no one else on the force does.”

Tyson seemed taken aback from this admission. “Does that mean you’re going to arrest me?”

“No,” the blond guy replied, walking around Tyson and opening the rear door to expose Ted. The bull-man hadn’t moved and was still crammed into the back seat. As the cop looked in, Ted turned and stared blankly back at him. The officer’s eyebrows went up and he smiled, his lips twisting into a leer. He nodded to himself and, looking pleased, continued, “No, we haven’t come to arrest you; we’ve come to ask a favor.”

“A-A-A favor?” Tyson stammered. “You want a favor? From me?”

“Yep,” the Latino cop replied, jerking his chin toward Nikki. “We want you to do to us what you did to this guy.”

“And this brute,” the blond cop added, fixing his burning gaze on Ted.

This admission left Tyson gaping and Nikki confused. Before either could reply, though, the Latino cop clarified, “I wanna be turned into a short-dicked bottom boy and my partner here…” His voice trailed off as the blond officer finished enthusiastically, “…and I wanna be a fuckin’ moron muscle bull!”

***

Two Weeks Later

“Hey, Nikki,” Tyson called out from the foyer of the mansion. “I’ve got a surprise for you! Come see!”

 Nikki had just finished showering off with Officer Tito Guzmán. Guzmán’s treatments had started kicking in but his transformation was taking longer than Nikki’s because they were running low on peach-sicles. They were going to see Alexei that evening at his new club, The Barnyard, though, and the Russian had promised to bring along more popsicles for them.

“Hold on!” he yelled, hearing his voice echo down the long hallway. “Lemme dry off!”

He waited for Tyson’s muffled response before turning back to his adorable, new friend. Tito’s skin had softened and his eyes had grown wider over the past week. He’d lost most of his body hair as well, along with a good three inches of cock size. He still towered over Nikki, though, and possessed a decidedly muscular build. Most disappointing to Tito, though, was his behind: His ass, although ample by any definition, was nowhere near Peach-sized yet.

“Don’t worry, Tito!” Nikki reassured, slapping him playfully on his jiggly ass, “You’ll be a true Peach before you know it!”

Tito pouted, lower lip pressing out, and was about to complain when Nikki pulled over a stool and, hopping up, planted a kiss on his lips. The kiss started out chaste but rapidly evolved into a passionate mouth-lock and soon they were pawing at each other as Nikki sank down and took Tito’s still-significant cock in his mouth. He quickly worked him up to an explosive climax and nearly choked on the huge quantity of spunk that filled his mouth.

Swallowing, he wiped his chin and looked up at Tito, chirping, “Wow! That was awesome! Now go get ready. We’re leaving soon!”

***

Tyson was alone in the foyer when Nikki skipped down the stairs, smiling happily. His big, beautiful lover held open his arms and Nikki jumped into them, savoring the delicious feeling of being wrapped in a powerful hug. He loved Tyson so much!

“What’s the surprise?” he asked breathlessly after Tyson lowered him to the floor.

“I found something,” Tyson replied, eyes twinkling. “Something precious.”

With that, he stepped back and opened the door, revealing an exceedingly exuberant Tommi. Nikki squealed in delight and launched himself across the threshold to take his long lost friend in a big hug. The two men jumped up and down together, laughing and crying in happiness.

After many minutes, Nikki calmed down enough to step back and survey Tommi, noting that he looked a little thinner but overall seemed to be in good condition. “Where were you?” he asked, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “I was so worried about you!”

“Damascus,” Tommi replied, making a face. “Tyson managed to buy me back before I was…invited…into Assad’s personal harem, though. I was still being groomed on Syrian etiquette and decorum when they came and got me.”

“Thank god!” Nikki exclaimed, taking Tommi into his arms again and pressing his lips against his cheek.

“You’re welcome to live here with us, Tommi,” Tyson offered, smiling indulgently down at them. When Tommi remained silent, he added, “You don’t have to, of course. I mean, you’re free to go wherever you want. Nikki and I will understand if you don’t want…”

“Are you kidding?” Tommi said, stepping back and putting his little hands on his hips. “There’s no place I’d rather be than with you and the rest of the Peaches!”

Nikki didn’t reply to this. He couldn’t. He was too overcome with emotion. Taking Tommi by the hand, he led him up the steps and into his huge, new home.

***

The Barnyard was the latest craze in the gay bar scene. Cars were lined up down the street when they pulled up in two SUVs. Tyson was driving one car with passengers Ted and bull-in-training Officer Landrew and Nikki was driving the other, chauffeuring Tommi, Tito, and a bunch of their fellow Peaches. Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait. Alexei was expecting them and a couple of bib overall-wearing valets parked their cars while they headed to the front of the queue.

Outside, the bar was built to resemble a barn and the front door was a huge, sliding wooden gate. Inside, behind protective barricades cleverly designed to look like hay bales, Nikki could see the country theme continued with kerosene lamps, hanging lassos, crude wooden beams, and rusted farm implements. Perhaps most striking, though, were the employees of The Barnyard.

Nikki squinted and then felt his skin prickle when he realized what he was seeing.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed, looking up at Tyson in surprise. “Are they…real?”

Tyson’s mouth quirked. “Um, you know we’re talking about Alexei here, right? Of course, they’re real!”

Nikki swallowed. Beside him, Tommi exhaled loudly while the rest of the Peaches crowded in to get a look. Soon, their squeals of wonder filled the air as everyone took in the fantastic creatures working at The Barnyard.

The bartenders sported giant rooster heads complete with vibrant red crests. The servers’ bodies were covered in downy wool and their faces were distinctly ovine; Nikki could even hear their bleating calls over the commotion. The busboys looked to be half men and half feral tomcats. The dancers on the stage were most likely former staff members of The Bullpen, only now they were even more bull-like than ever.

They were standing with their mouths hanging open when a voice called out, “There you are, my friends!” Nikki turned to see Alexei (debonair as always) approaching with his arms outstretched. He hugged Tyson against him, kissing him on the cheek before leaning down to do the same to Nikki. “You’re looking very well!” he praised as he released Nikki and turned to Ted. “And, Ted, my boy! I swear you’ve grown four inches since I last saw you!” The giant bull-man grunted something unintelligible and Alexei chuckled.

The Russian was taking a breath, preparing to continue, when there was a loud neigh behind him and they turned to find themselves staring at the most curious sight of all. A huge horse-man towered behind a lecturn where he was checking names off the guest list. He stood more than eight feet tall and possessed the head of a chestnut stallion, complete with a long, flowing mane. His torso and arms, however, were mostly human. He was wearing a provocative leather harness that accentuated his magnificently defined torso. As Nikki gaped, the horse-man stepped out from behind the lecturn, revealing a pair long, furry horsey legs ending in giant hooves. The horse legs and hooves were enough to elicit a collective gasp from the crowd but it was something far more carnal that caught Nikki’s attention.

The horse-man had a horsecock.

A very long, very large, very black, very slimy horsecock.

Nikki’s ogled, entranced by the massively ugly piece of meat dangling nearly down to the straw-strewn floor. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing and would have thought he was hallucinating if he didn’t know what Alexei Bortnikov was capable of.

“Ah, Nikki,” Alexei said, turning, “I see we’ve attracted the attention of my maître d’! I’m surprised you don’t recognize him. I’m told he’s an old acquaintance of yours.”

“He is?” Nikki asked, still fish-mouthing at the giant, hideous horsecock. “Who is he?”

Looking very much like the cat that ate the canary, Alexei winked, saying, “Why, this is Mr. Bradley Whalen, of course!” He swept his arm back, beckoning the horse-man to join them as he entreated, “Come, Bradley! Come! You remember your fellow Detectives Nikki Baez and Ted Barton, don’t you?”

Bradley pawed the floor with a hoof and lifted his muzzle in the air, letting out a loud whinny as he reached down to grasp his lurid organ, twirling it suggestively before him. 

“He says hello,” Alexei explained, a wry expression on his handsome face, “and that you’re both invited back to his stall for a roll in the hay…”

***

THE END