Body game: Encounter 813

by BRK   

Reggie isn’t sure why the team-building get-together for the web design firm he’s working for is being held at an abandoned mall; he just knows he can’t get his sexy boss out of his mind.

Reggie turned off the battered and patched county road as he’d been instructed, just before it ended in a thick barricade of cracked, weather-stained concrete, and into the vast, empty parking lot of what appeared to be a huge, abandoned shopping mall. He slowed his beat-up old Toyota as he eyed the structure suspiciously: in the gathering twilight it looked ominous somehow, and, more to the point, it looked like the last place on earth that the little web-design firm he’s just started interning for afternoons after school would assemble on a Friday night for what his boss Liam had insisted on calling “team building activities.” Reggie strongly suspected that Liam, who was given to sudden bouts of enthusiastic obsession, had read an article on some corporate development website and had immediately thrown himself into making Adonis Web Solutions the strongest, most employee-enabled boutique design firm in all of northern California.

He glanced up at the mall, just making out a huge sign on the side of the building that proclaimed the oversized carcass as what remained of the “Sterlingville Galleria”. It was the right place, all right—or, well, “right place” seemed not quite right, but it was where the email had told everyone to be. He let his car roll slowly through the empty rows of the parking lot, observing apprehensively that the rows of weeds cracking through the blacktop were gradually displacing the yellow lines as the lot’s dominant means of division and segmentation. Where the fuck were they? Miles from town in the creepy parking lot of a creepy abandoned mall he’d never even heard of, despite living here for four years now. He knew Sterlingville was the old name for the fringes of this end of the suburbs, but he’d never heard of a “Galleria” there. It seemed very Eighties somehow, and he wondered if the inside would be full of pink and baby blue neon, and stores full of nothing but leg-warmers or women’s jackets with shoulder-pads. He was too young to remember the Eighties, of course—he was too young to remember the twentieth century, really—but his parents were obsessed with the decade. He thought about how he’d realized recently he’d lost count of the number of times he’d been forced to watch Ruthless People, his mom’s favorite movie, and shuddered.

He crept his car round the curve in the parking lot lanes that led around to the back side of the building where the meet-up was, wondering why he hadn’t stopped, made a wide U-turn in the carless lot, and sped back toward civilization. He had seriously considered giving this night a miss, and now he was berating himself for coming anyway. He’d known it would be stupid, but it was now clear to him he hadn’t known just how stupid. He could still do it, he told himself. Turn around. Turn around, and forget entirely about walking into any freaky old forgotten monstrosities.

But he kept driving. He told himself that as by far the most junior member of the design team, both in age and tenure, he basically had to do as he was told. It was a paid internship, and he needed the money for soccer camp this summer; he’d finally made the team this year and they’d done better than he’d imagined, and the coach was counting on him not to let up. And he was desperate for the design experience. He knew he was good at web programming, and he needed to drink in how it was done first hand. He needed to do what it took to keep this gig, and he felt a pang of guilt that he was already twenty minutes late, though that was more from having forgotten he had to stop for gas than from putting off leaving.

Reggie wasn’t fooling himself, though, and he knew it. Those were valid reasons, but what it came down to was that on his way out of work that afternoon Liam had pulled him aside, reaching up and putting a warm hand on his shoulder, and had fixed him with those mesmerizing blue eyes and asked with a heart-melting smile, “You’re coming tonight, right?”

Reggie, who had almost convinced himself to blow off the team-building bullshit, had gulped. He’d heard himself say, “Sure, boss! Wouldn’t miss it.” And Liam had beamed at him so beautifully, it was literally breathtaking. Even now, Reggie felt his heart trip and start to pound excitedly as he thought about Liam’s captivating blue eyes and dazzling smile, even as the second meaning of what Liam had said hit him hard with instant arousal. He reached into his lap to adjust his cock in his jeans, which was already rapidly hardening toward its slightly-above-average fully hard length at the mere thought of Liam, and cursed himself aloud for being so hung up on a guy who, yes, was beautiful and insanely lickable from head to toe but who was also (a) ten years older than him and (b) his fucking boss.

As he rounded the last corner he saw there were four other cars parked behind the mall, near the only entrance on this side, a large expanse of four double sliding doors with another, smaller unlit “Sterlingville Galleria” sign above it. He realized he hadn’t seen any signs for anchor stores—no big light-up logos for Macy’s or Nordstrom’s, not even Gap or Abercrombie. He wondered if the stores had insisted on taking down their signage, lest they be associated with this derelict hulk. He pulled into a space a few slots down from the other vehicles and switched off the engine, the subsequent death rattles unusually loud in the silence natural to the middle of nowhere. He tried to ignore it and looked over the other cars critically. There were supposed to be six of them here tonight. So if there were four cars here already, either someone was later than him, or at least two of his colleagues had come together. He wondered if it was Henry and Brandon. He’d been getting an inkling in just the month he’d been at the firm that those two were secretly together, but it was too new to let everyone know. The glances and smiles when they thought no one was looking were frankly adorable, and Reggie felt himself smiling as he thought about it.

The car at the end was a black 2014 BMW 328i—high-end but not flashy. That was Liam’s car, Reggie knew. Liam was loaded, thanks to a lucky break in the stock market two years back that had left him with a windfall massive enough that he’d spent the intervening time not bothering to try to grow it even more, though he had in fact had some more recent investments pay off handsomely. But while Liam was cocky, he was also laid back, and that set the tone for the rest of the firm.

Reggie got out of his old Toyota, listening with a certain contentment as the door slam echoed off of the looming wall before him, and made for the entrance. He was surprised to find that the door opened easily, rather than creaking ominously as he’d half suspected. A weird thrill ran through him as he stepped into the cool air inside the building, as if his body had a pleasant physical reaction to the mall’s atmosphere.

The lighting inside was bright and clean in the wide, high-ceilinged corridors even if the stores themselves were shuttered and black. Like the outside of the mall the signs and logos were gone from all of them, giving off a sense not merely that they’d closed but that they’d been removed from ever having existed as open, thriving businesses. In the middle of the empty, cavernous intersection of the entrance hallway and the main promenade there was a stanchion post on which was mounted a white, professionally produced sign. The simple lettering simply said, “Adonis”. Underneath was an arrow pointing to up and to the right.

Reggie grinned crookedly to himself. If only it were that easy to find one, he thought, as he turned right onto the main thoroughfare. Of course, the Adonis in question was probably Liam himself, so finding his Adonis would get him exactly as far as he already was every day. There was an escalator ahead, and he noticed that one of them was turned on, rolling no one at all steadily up toward the mezzanine. Remembering that the arrow had pointed up he made for it.

He realized as he got on the escalator that his oversized, well-above-average cock was still hard, and was pointing up and to the right very much like the arrow on the sign. He felt a qualm of nerves about it, but it wasn’t like the guys hadn’t already caught him with a hard-on at the office more than once. There had been jokes about teenage hormones, and Karl, the cute and unexpectedly extroverted CFO, had started them calling him “Reggie Rock-hard”, and on the whole Reggie preferred the teasing to speculation that just being in any kind of proximity of Liam’s warmth and beauty gave him a raging erection that did not go away. And there was something about being here, in the cool, comfortable atmosphere of this mall, that made Reggie want to say “fuck it” and rip off his loose and not-too-flattering clothes and expose his hard-won athlete’s body and his fantastic cock for all to see—even Liam. Especially Liam.

Up on the mezzanine was another wide and well-lit promenade flanked with more closed and completely empty stores with no names or logos, but a new sign pointed him straight ahead, and at the end of the hall there was a massive HotBoys outlet that looked, bizarrely enough, like it was still in business and filled with clothes designed, as was their reputation and the thrust of their advertising, to make hunky guys look hunkier—though half the time their ads seemed to be more about making hunky guys look nakeder. Sure enough, they were all there, the entire Adonis contingent. And somehow they seemed to have taken Reggie’s own urge to be exhibitionistic to heart, because as he walked into the store, past the shop’s fully retracted sliding glass doors, he saw that they were all moving around shedding clothes and trying clothes on, right there in the middle of the store. Reggie glanced around, but there was no one in the store except them—no clerks, no other shoppers, just his own workmates. What kind of a team activity was this?

“Hey, it’s Rocky!” cheered Karl, who seemed to be about to button up a crisp but flattering dark blue dress shirt. He evidently decided to leave it open, dropping one hand and waving with the other. The others turned in time to see Reggie roll his eyes at the new telescoping of his embarrassing nickname, but he had a feeling they were all looking to confirm the presence of the long, fat iron-straight bulge angling up toward Reggie’s hip under his jeans. He heard someone—Brandon, probably—chuckle, and he sighed, thinking with a sense of resignation that there were probably worse reputations to have.

Liam, who was wearing a tight sleeveless Under-Armor type shirt and loud, loose beach jams of all things, beamed and moved toward him. “So glad you made it, ‘Rocky’,” he said grinning, and to Reggie’s amazement he found himself folded in a tight hug. Not one to miss an opportunity even when caught by surprise, Reggie wrapped his own strong arms around Liam’s well-defined torso, bringing his nose close to Liam’s neck so he could inhale his scent. He was surprised a second time when he realized Liam was doing the exact same thing. Their groins pressed together, letting Reggie’s hard dick push against Liam’s groin, and Reggie resolved that he was never letting this hug end, ever.

Of course, he was not in charge of the universe. “Everyone have a seat, please,” said an unfamiliar, faintly automated-sounding voice. Liam pulled back and grinned at Reggie. “C’mon,” he said, and, nearly stopping Reggie’s heart by casually and firmly grasping Reggie’s right hand, he pulled him toward the center of the store.

There, in an open space that sort of approximated a wide, inviting clearing in the middle of a dense and colorful forest, there was a ring of seven sturdy-looking Adirondack chairs made from what looked like dark cherry-wood. They were set in a tight circle, close enough that the occupants would be brushing knees. Reggie immediately resolved to make sure to sit next to Liam, but then it occurred to him to wonder why there were seven seats, when the firm only had six employees. This was explained when Karl approached him with a hot, young strawberry blond at his side. The newcomer had gotten as far as trying on a pair of trendy ripped jeans but was otherwise unencumbered by clothes. He was smiling saucily at Reggie.

“‘Rocky’, this is my kid brother, Oliver,” Karl said. Oliver put out his hand and Reggie forced himself to let go of Liam’s in order to shake it. Liam winked at Reggie and moved away. Reggie tried to follow him, but his attention snagged on Brandon, one of the designers, who was nonchalantly taking his seat in the circle even though he was completely naked. Reggie gaped at the compact, well-defined man, not quite registering that Oliver was asking him something.

Reggie ripped his eyes away from Brandon and blinked at Oliver. “What?”

Oliver smiled. “I hear your soccer team went to nationals this year,” he repeated. Karl had moved away too, so it was just them.

“Um, yeah,” Reggie stammered. “You play?”

Oliver nodded. “I played your school a few times,” he said with a grin that told Reggie it had gone well for Oliver’s team. “Before your time. I play intramurals now at UC Davis, just for fun.”

Reggie realized he still had Oliver’s hand in his, though they’d stopped shaking. “So,” Oliver said, pretending real confusion, “how do you play with that thing?” He nodded down toward the shape of Reggie’s obvious boner. “Doesn’t it get in the way on the field?”

Reggie sighed with a show of immense exasperation. “It’s not always this—” He broke off, wondering why he had been about to say “big”. Why had he wanted to say that? He finished lamely, “—this, uh, much of a problem.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows in mock disbelief, but before he could say anything the automated voice repeated, “Everyone have a seat, please,” and Reggie and Oliver reluctantly turned toward the circle. There were only two seats left, so Reggie took the one between the calmly naked Brandon (Henry, of course, was on the other side, trying not to stare at his secret boyfriend in the yummy altogether and failing completely) and Karl, who, in his open shirt, looked meticulously dressed by comparison. Oliver took the last seat, between Karl and the newest designer, hired only last week. Reggie didn’t know him very well, but he thought his name was Rich. He met Rich’s eyes as he sat down, and Rich looked away, as if he’d been caught staring. Reggie smiled and let his knees fall wide and rest against Brandon’s and Karl’s on either side as he settled into the surprisingly comfortable chair.

The lights in the huge shop suddenly seemed to contract until there was a simple pool of light around their circle, shading off into the dimness of the surrounding store that deepened into black. A very handsome, well-proportioned naked man appeared in the center of their small circle, very slightly translucent as if to deliberately give away that he was a hologram of some kind. Reggie took in a breath, and he wasn’t the only one. Now that’s an Adonis, he thought. The strange figure was a perfect specimen of male manhood. He then cocked his head consideringly. Maybe too perfect, he thought. He pressed his knee against Brandon’s, silently teasing him for the Avatar having stolen his nakedness thunder, and when he glanced over Brandon was smiling broadly at him.

“Welcome to the Body Game, encounter 813. You must stay until the end of the game, after which prizes will be awarded.” As the voice said that they all heard the glass storefront doors they’d come in through slide quietly closed, followed by the snick of a lock. Reggie frowned and exchanged glances with Liam, who gave him a small reassuring nod.

“I am the Avatar,” the voice said. “You will be playing the Body Game. Each player chooses a target player. Then you take turns rolling electronic dice that will determine changes to your target.

“All rotation is clockwise, to your left. We will play ten rounds, with the amount of change on average increasing with each round. After the first round there will also be overrides that will affect the changes and their target. The last round will have two overrides.” They all stared at the Avatar. It occurred to Reggie to ask him to explain, but it was pretty obvious to him that this hologram was not interactive, at least not at the moment. Looking around the circle he saw that the others had apparently come to the same conclusion, because they were watching the Avatar alertly but not speaking up with any of the obvious questions.

“For your mutual convenience,” the Avatar was saying, “I will now introduce you to each other, so that you have all the baseline information you need.”

“Player #1 is Liam,” the Avatar said, and Reggie wondered if Liam was the first player because of where he sat or because he was the CEO. “He’s 28, 5 foot 11 inches, and 240 pounds,” the hologram host went on, “with a buff body, blue eyes, size 12 shoes, and a thick cock that’s 6 inches soft and 10 inches hard.” Reggie’s eyebrows shot up at this cavalier announcement of Liam’s most personal statistics, but Liam himself displayed nothing but calm pride as he collected the surprised and impressed looks of the rest of the group.

“Nice job, boss,” Karl huffed, obviously approving while seeming to poke fun at Liam at the same time. Liam winked at him. “He has long black hair,” the Avatar continued, “he’s wearing beach jams and a muscle shirt with sandals, and he’s feeling flirtatious. The target he draws is … Richard.” They all glanced over at Richard, who seemed abashed to have been drawn by the boss for—whatever it is that put Rich as Liam’s “target.”

“Player #2 is Henry,” the Avatar continued, moving clockwise to face the man to Liam’s left. “He’s 22, 6 foot even, and 230 pounds, with a swimmer’s body, light blue eyes, size 13 shoes, and a torpedo-shaped cock that’s 9 inches soft and 12 inches hard.” There was some snickering at that, and a few happy hoots of approval—evidently the mood was easy enough that they could be amused that Henry was bigger that Liam, rather than shocked that such things were being spoken aloud; inhibitions, it seemed, were at low ebb here tonight. Reggie aimed a lascivious grin not at Henry but at the naked Brandon next to him, who just shrugged as if the size of Henry’s dick was no concern of his; but his eyes were dancing. “He has buzz-cut platinum blond hair,” the Avatar said, still describing the well hung Henry, “he’s wearing a college sweatshirt and new jeans and beat-up running shoes, and he’s feeling confident. The target he draws is … Henry.”

“Whoa, Henry, you’re your own ‘target’,” Karl said.

“He’s probably his own target a lot,” teased Liam.

“Not lately, I’ll bet,” Reggie said in a loud undertone, this time studiously not looking at Brandon.

“Player #3 is Brandon,” said the Avatar, turning again. “He’s 27, 5 foot 6 inches, and 150 pounds, with a gymnast’s body, amber eyes, size 14 shoes, and an extra-wide cock that’s 8 inches soft and 13 inches hard.”

“Holy shit,” Reggie blurted. Karl laughed, but it was Liam that Reggie glanced up at, feeling his cheeks warm a little. He looked away, but Brandon rubbed his bare knee against Reggie’s good-naturedly.

The Avatar continued. “He has medium-length dark brown hair, he’s wearing nothing,” (cheers from all assembled, at which Brandon nodded as if receiving the accolades of his assembled subjects), “and he’s feeling content. The target he draws is … Liam.”

“Uh oh,” Liam teased. “Naked guy gets to ‘target’ the boss. I have to say I’m a little concerned.”

“Player #4 is Reginald,” the Avatar said, turning to face Reggie for the first time.

“Rocky,” Karl put in, as if to correct their AI host, and there was a round of chuckles. Reggie stuck his tongue out at Karl, but secretly he was glad for the distraction from his never-used full name. “He’s 18, 6 foot 6 inches, and 210 pounds, with a hard body, dark brown eyes, size 10 shoes, and a thin cock that’s 8 inches soft and 12 inches hard.” This got an actual round of applause from the crew, despite Brandon being bigger, and Reggie ducked his head, blushing fully now. “He has long wavy ginger hair, he’s wearing long-sleeve tee and jeans with loafers, and he’s feeling nervous.” That got another general laugh. “The target he draws is … Karl.”

“Oh, great,” Reggie muttered, pretending this was catastrophic.

Karl made a back and forth gesture with two fingers. “You and me, Rocky,” he said. “You and me.”

The Avatar turned away from Reggie, much to his relief. “Player #5 is Karl,” it said. “He’s 23, 5 foot 11 inches, and 170 pounds, with a tight body, gray eyes, size 11 shoes, and a narrow cock that’s 6 inches soft and 10 inches hard.” Now that a precedent had been established, this won a round of respectful applause, to which Karl bowed graciously in his seat. “He has very short chestnut hair, he’s wearing a button-down shirt and slacks with new sneakers, and he’s feeling playful.”

“I’ll say!” Liam laughed.

Reggie waited to hear that he was Karl’s “target”—that would be appropriate, as he usually was anyway. But to his relief the Avatar added, “The target he draws is … Brandon.”

The Avatar turned to Karl’s younger brother. “Player #6 is Oliver. He’s 19, 6 foot 1 inches, and 210 pounds, with a fit body, brown eyes, size 12 shoes, and a fat cock that’s 6 inches soft and 11 and a half inches hard.” This got a big hand, which everyone made deliberately about an inch and a half’s worth more enthusiastic than the one for Karl. Oliver laughed and Karl punched his thick, bare shoulder. “He has shoulder-length strawberry blond hair, he’s wearing holey jeans and nothing else, and he’s feeling amused. The target he draws is … Reginald.” Oliver grinned provocatively at Reggie, making him wonder if he was worse off with Karl’s salacious kid brother.

The hologram turned to the last member of the group, the new hire Rich. “Player #7 is Richard,” it said. “He’s 25, 6 foot 3 inches, and 220 pounds, with a lanky body, dark blue eyes, size 10 shoes, and an extra-wide cock that’s 4 inches soft and 9 and a half inches hard.” This drew respectful applause, and as he clapped, Reggie wondered why 9 and a half seemed like so much less than ten. It was still impressive equipment, and he threw in a wolf-whistle to complement the applause. “He has close-cropped black hair, he’s wearing business suit, tie askew, and dress shoes, and he’s feeling excited. The target he draws is … Oliver.”

Reggie looked around the group. Expectation sang in the air. The game was about to begin.

“Round 1,” the Avatar announced.

“When it is your turn, you will receive the electronic dice,” the Avatar explained in his slightly flat voice. “Spin them, and then I will announce the results.” They all looked at each other expectantly, realizing more or less all at the same time that things would probably start with the person that had been announced as “Player #1”, and their eyes drifted to Liam even as the Avatar said, “Liam’s turn.”

What looked like a glass sphere appeared hovering over Liam’s lap. Inside it were a pair of large dice, marked with strange symbols that Reggie couldn’t decipher, at least not from where he sat. They were slightly translucent like their host, but Liam was able to grab the sphere and give it a good shake, giving Reggie a good opportunity to watch the play and movement of Liam’s bare, well-defined upper arms. After he’d shaken the sphere with a couple of quick jerks the dice suddenly smacked against the side of the sphere directly in front of the Avatar, as if gravity within that little pocket universe were at right angles to reality. It was a little eye-wrenching to look at, so Reggie went back to staring at Liam’s very nice arms.

The host had no trouble reading the dice, of course. “Richard’s cock transformed: 20% larger, with override: none.”

“Woo-hoo, go Richard,” Reggie chanted, joining in the cheers while Rich blushed fiercely. Reggie was glad—no more worries about that 9 and a half business. At some level his brain questioned why he wasn’t at all shocked at the idea of a hologram doling out extra inches of cock, but he wasn’t very interested in thinking about that question just now. Instead he did some quick arithmetic and said aloud, “Eleven and a half!” And probably even wider, if “bigger” meant bigger overall.

“Fuck yeah!” Karl hooted. Rich sheepishly adjusted himself in his dress slacks, earning more cheers.

“C’mon, guys,” Rich pleaded, adorably red-cheeked.

“Henry’s turn,” the Avatar said. Reggie watched as the sphere with the dice flitted from Liam’s lap to Henry’s in the space of a heartbeat, drawing in some startled gasps around the circle. Reggie tried remembering who the buzz-cut blond’s target was, and then remembered it was Henry himself. Instead of shaking the sphere, Henry followed the Avatar’s original instructions and spun it on its axis. This time, without the distraction of Liam’s beauty, Reggie was able to ponder a touchable, shakable (or spinnable) hologram. This was seriously amazing technology, he started thinking, then scoffed at himself, since he’d forgotten this paled in comparison to actually changing a guy’s body with a few words. Then he wondered something else: if the dice-sphere was touchable, did that mean the hunky Avatar was touchable too?

After the dice bounced around a few times inside the sphere they once again smacked abruptly against the side facing the Avatar. “Henry’s body transformed: 15% more stretchy, with override: none.”

“Ooo, stretchy,” Brandon said.

“I wonder who you’ll be wrapping yourself around,” Reggie said. Henry very deliberately gave Reggie the finger, and then grasped his extended middle finger with his other fist and laboriously pulled on it, pulling up hard and then releasing his finger to reveal an obscene gesture that was a good two inches more obscene than before. The circle laughed and applauded Henry’s augmented taunt, Reggie included.

“Brandon’s turn,” the Avatar said. The sphere jumped to Reggie’s naked neighbor, who elected to spin it the way Henry had done. He was staring pointedly at Liam with a wicked grin, and Reggie remembered with a gulp that Liam was Brandon’s target. The smack of the dice against the side of the sphere made Reggie’s heart stutter. “Liam’s horniness transformed,” the Avatar pronounced: “15% more contagious, with override: none.”

Liam laughed with a curious mixture of relief and disappointment. “What, all that and it still ends up being something that changes everyone else?” he said.

“It had to spill over at some point,” Karl said, and Reggie laughed. Liam shook his head, though he was pleased at the recognition, even if it was for being exceptionally horny to the point of overflowing. Reggie caught Brandon’s eye and saw he was still staring at Liam, a little more intensely now. His knee was pressed hard against Reggie’s, and—wait, had Brandon been hard before? Reggie swallowed. Was Liam having an effect already, even from a couple seats away? Reggie fought an urge to adjust his own huge, aching boner, and suddenly realized everyone was looking at him.

“Reginald’s turn,” the Avatar said, and Reggie jumped. The sphere appeared before him and he grasped it. It felt warm and firm, as if despite its apparent fragility he’d never be strong enough to break it—which made sense, as it wasn’t real. It was a pretty impressive construct, whether it was technology or—whatever was being used for the transformations. He shook it, like Liam had. “Karl’s horniness transformed: 20% more horny all the time, with override: none.”

“How will we be able to tell?” Liam snarked, and the others smiled in agreement.

“Right, because I’m already working with to Mr. Overflowing with Horny,” Karl shot back with a huge grin, deliberately reaching down to shift his own obvious boner in his slacks.

The sphere jumped to his neighbor on the other side as the Avatar announced, “Karl’s turn.” Karl, evidently just to be contrary, tried tossing the sphere up instead of shaking or spinning it, but it only rose up a couple feet before dropping back to the original spot above Karl’s lap, the dice already pushing against the side. “Brandon’s height transformed: 15% more tall and lanky, with override: none.”

This was the first transformation that would be really obvious, Reggie realized, and there were some murmurs and stirring around the circle as they sat up a bit to watch. He remembered that Brandon was the shortest of all of them at 5 foot 6, so it was nice that he was getting a height upgrade. They watched at the naked cutie seemed to stretch in his chair, as if his body were pushing out from his center, while Brandon himself stared down at his naked body with amazement and apparent pleasure. It looks like growing feels good, Reggie thought, as he watched Brandon’s heels slip a little further into the middle of the circle, toward the placid Avatar, even as his shoulders pushed up to line up with the top of the Adirondack chair. Reggie did the math again and, after rechecking it in his head to make sure the change was as big as he’d first figured it to be, spoke quietly into what had this time become a hushed silence: “Six foot four.”

“Fuuuuuck,” Brandon breathed, gazing down at a body that had gone from compact gymnast to long and lanky swimmer. His footlong-plus cock was harder than ever and leaking clear precum.

“How does it feel?” Henry asked earnestly.

“Amazing,” Brandon gasped, still looking at himself. Then he looked up at beamed at them all. “A, fucking, mazing,” he whooped, and the others cheered enthusiastically.

“Oliver’s turn,” the Avatar said, and the circle turned to watch excitedly, with the collective air of investment not unlike a group of friends watching their team play from the fifty yard line. A thrill ran through Reggie as he remembered belatedly that he was about to get changed, but before he could get wound up about it, the host was already reading the dice. “Reginald’s cock transformed,” it said, and Reggie’s stomach twisted in anticipation: “20% longer, with override: none.”

“Fuck!” he blurted, even as he experienced the very strange feeling of his already oversized, very hard cock swelling in his jeans, shoving against the fabric of his underwear and past the elastic, creating a bulge that actually shoved right out of his left pocket, pushing the white of his pocket lining out and staining it with damp pre in a single heartbeat. He let a moan escape and the whole circle applauded.

“C’mon, tell us,” Liam urged, as the others still hooted and cheered. Reggie stared at him, blinking, his mind filled with nothing but amazing … feels amazing … Liam grinned at him and explained, “How big! C’mon, you told us all the others! You’re the size announcer guy now!”

The others took up the chant: “Tell us! Tell us!” Reggie felt himself flush hot and red. He held up his hands. “Okay, okay! Give me a second!” They laughed as he tried to make his addled mind work. “Um—about fourteen and a half,” he said after a second. This earned him a deafening cheer.

“So?” Karl said. “Are you going to let us see it?” This quickly conjured a new round of chanting, with the whole circle laughingly cheering “Show us! Show us!”

“Hey hey hey!” Reggie shouted over them. “I will if you will!” He figured this would shut them all up, but to his astonishment Liam jumped up and started unfastening his board shorts, and a second later they were around his ankles, followed by a pair of red briefs, his fat, rigid ten-incher now proudly exposed for all to see. Reggie watching with a feeling of stunned surreality as the others rose and followed suit—even Rich, if a little more reluctantly, and soon the entire group (apart from Brandon, of course) was standing and had dropped and kicked aside anything they were wearing below the waist. They were all staring expectantly at Reggie.

He sighed. “Fine,” he huffed, and they all cheered again. “As if I didn’t get enough peer pressure at school,” he added with a faux gruffness as he stood and reached for his belt buckle. It would actually feel good to free himself of the constraints of his jeans, but he wasn’t about to admit it.

“Take it off!” Karl hollered. Liam started in on first notes of that famous stripper tune, and the others joined in, loudly emulating trumpets and saxophones as Reggie, cheeks still hot, clumsily shed himself of first his jeans and then his boxer-briefs. The music turned into a roar of approval as Reggie’s now-14-and-a-half-inch boner sprang up and slapped against his abs over his thin, long-sleeved tee, still pointing up and to the right like an unfailing diving rod.

“Fuck you all,” Reggie groused with a crooked smile as he dropped into his seat, wondering too late about splinters in his ass—fortunately, the finish was smooth and comfortable on his bare cheeks. The others laughed and followed suit, settling back into their chairs as well, and the Avatar, which had apparently known to wait for Reggie’s ritual humiliation to be over turned from Oliver to the last player, Rich.

As it did so, though, Karl leaned toward him and muttered, “I bet you could suck yourself with that thing now,” and Reggie, no longer willing to take his ribbing without shooting back, tossed him a grin and whispered back, “Like I couldn’t before!” Karl looked gratifyingly impressed.

“Richard’s turn,” the Avatar said. Rich shook the sphere nervously, while Oliver watched with obvious anticipation. After a moment the host pronounced: “Oliver’s arms transformed: 10% thicker, with override: none.”

“Niiiice,” Oliver said, and raised his arms to flex them even as they visibly thickened.

“Very sexy, bro,” Karl said, and they exchanged grins that made Reggie wonder just how close these cute, hunky brothers actually were.

Reggie became aware that the Avatar had disappeared from the center of the circle momentarily. “That’s the end of the round,” Liam said, standing up and moving to the center himself, his hard cock bobbing slightly in front of him, “and I think we should have a little mini-celebration ritual for each turn. And my suggestion would be that whoever has the biggest cock at the end of the round should show it off by blowing his wad for all the rest of us.”

“Hear, hear,” said Brandon, thumping his arm-rest.

“Seconded!” Karl jumped in.

As he did so it dawned on Reggie who the “winner” of Round 1 would be. “No fucking way,” he protested.

“Thirded!” Henry said gleefully, ignoring him.

“Guys—!” Reggie tried to say, but Liam spoke over him. “All in favor?” Liam asked, and the whole circle, apart from Reggie, shouted “Aye!” Even Rich seemed excited and ready to root him on.

“Nay!” Reggie cried out incredulously.

“Now that’s appropriate,” Karl said, “considering you’re hung like a—”

“I won’t do it!” Reggie insisted, but Liam was already stepping out of the center, gesturing that he was making way for the main event.

They were all muttering words of encouragement—“Come on”, “Do it”, “Show us”, and so on, all of it gathering into a rhythmic “Reggie! Reggie! Reggie!” which Karl somehow managed to shift into an even more enthusiastic “Rocky! Rocky! Rocky!” The chanting swelled as Reggie reluctantly climbed to his feet again, and as he stepped into the center of the circle they all cheered and applauded.

“Thanks a lot,” he said. “So am I supposed to just—?” He mimed wanking off with his fist, and the others laughed.

Unexpectedly Oliver stood and moved toward him. “Here, I’ll help,” he said, and moved to stand behind Reggie. Reggie’s heart started pounding harder as Oliver moved in close behind him, so close their legs were pressed together and his tight pecs were pushing against Reggie’s shoulder blades. Reggie gulped as Oliver’s fat, footlong boner shoved wetly against Reggie’s muscular ass-cheeks. He felt Oliver’s warm breath against his neck and the hooting and encouragement of the crowd faded away as if the volume had been dialed down. He was taller than Oliver—at 6 foot 6 he was taller than all of them, even the newly height-improved Brandon—but it turned out Oliver was the perfect height to find that spot where his neck and shoulders met, the spot that never failed to make erotic pleasure course through him and stiffen his cock even if it was already iron-hard. “Does this help at all?” he heard Oliver murmur into his neck, even as his arms snaked around Reggie’s fit torso, finding his abs and pecs.

“Y-yes,” he stuttered, a shudder of fresh arousal running through him.

“I think I’ll help too,” he heard Brandon say, much to Reggie’s surprise, and a moment later Brandon was in front of him—and sinking to his knees. Reggie gasped, expecting to feel a mouth around his newly even-huger erection, but his whole body quavered with pleasure as he felt first Brandon’s lips, then his tongue, brushing gently along the surface of his taut, aching balls. He could not suppress a moan.

Reggie found his eyes had met with Liam’s without his realizing. Liam was smiling affectionately at him, but there was intense lust in his blue eyes, and when Liam stood Reggie’s heart started pounding hard enough to seem like it wanted out of its cage. Liam stepped toward him, his bright blue eyes filling his vision even as Oliver caressed him and Brandon ministered to his balls and then the sensitive base of his shaft with increasing brio, and soon he and Liam were face to face, the buff, black-haired boss gazing up at him with fierce arousal.

“Hey, ‘Rocky’,” Liam said. Reggie smiled, and Liam smiled back in a way that Reggie found literally irresistible. Unable to help himself Reggie slid a large hand around Liam’s neck and bent to kiss him, and their lips met, gently at first, and then with a mutual access of passion. Their lips parted, and their tongues met, and though Reggie could feel the intense pleasure of Liam bringing him into his arms, and Oliver embracing him just as feverishly from behind, and Brandon finally, finally wrapping his hot mouth around Reggie’s huge, shivering erection, it was the kiss that drove him over the edge, and made him cum harder and more intensely than he had ever cum before, bringing Liam and Oliver and Brandon with him in a shared, fuse-blowing orgasm that seemed to feed on itself, roaring through them in waves until it finally diminished and subsided, leaving Reggie flooded with intense ecstasy that didn’t seem likely to go away anytime soon.

He and Liam had broken the kiss, and were now panting hard into each other’s mouths, sharing each other’s hot breath. Reggie thought Liam’s breath tasted like cum somehow, as if it had been him and not Brandon that had sucked him off. He smiled, and Liam smiled too.

“And that’s just Round 1,” Liam said, his eyes shining with anticipation.

Reggie took his seat in a kind of daze, barely noticing that despite having blown an epic load thanks to Oliver’s rubbing himself against his crack, Brandon’s eager and excellent fellatio, and most of all the deep, mind-blowing, time-stopping kiss with Liam, his fourteen-and-a-half-inch cock was still hugely and achingly hard. A quick glance around the rest of the tight ring of men told him that all seven of them were in fact totally and unmistakably boned. The condition was obvious regardless of whether they were naked like Reggie and the honey-skinned Nude Brandon, for whom such nudity seemed now a natural and customary state (hence the nickname Reggie had pegged him with in his head), or wearing the store’s clothes they had been trying on when the game started, like Liam, or still in their street clothes, like the suit-clad Rich. Reggie’s gaze snagged on the unmissable erection that would have made a huge tent in Rich’s well fitted but not-too-snug charcoal slacks had he still been wearing them, and he found himself slipping into a comfortable vision of a typical working day at Adonis, all of them calmly going about their business while rocking huge, rigid boners shoving right up out of their waistbands or thrusting rudely and brazenly from opened flies. Rich would be at a desk nearby, Brandon and Henry working closely with Brandon leaning over Henry’s shoulder, even Oliver visiting his finance-wizard brother, all of them boned like that was the natural state of man. Liam would be there too, of course, the center of the hormonal maelstrom, striding boldly up to Reggie’s desk. In his vision Liam for some reason was still dressed in the muscle shirt and jams he was had started the game with, his longish black hair gathered loosely at his neck the way it often was at the office. He had a cocky grin on his face and a dripping, fat, red-tipped ten-inch rod shoving out of the unzipped fly, until the exquisite older man stopped right in front of Reggie, bright blue eyes staring down hungrily at him, his thick, shivering cock inches from Reggie’s blushing, hot face—

“Round 2,” the Avatar announced in a loud voice, startling Reggie from his erotic daydream. Sure enough, the handsome holographic host had reappeared while his thoughts drifted, looking as hunky as ever, maybe a bit hunkier. Or was that his dialed-up state of arousal? He shifted in his chair, feeling hugely aroused and a little frustrated by the how swamped with need he was. His cock yearned for the hot mouth it had felt only moments before, or any hot mouth for that matter. Or hands, or… Fuck, why was he so unbearably turned on all of a sudden? Sure, he was usually aroused to at least some extent, chubbed and lit with hormonal need most of the time and hard quite a lot, pretty much whenever he was around hot guys like his teammates at school or his colleagues at work, especially his intoxicating, mesmerizing boss. But usually it wasn’t this bad. Was it Liam’s gift of contagious horniness doing him in, from across the tight circle? Or was being this turned on, this impossibly hard and flushed with need, just a side effect of having a huge, ruler-busting cock?

He glanced to his right at Nude Brandon, almost tempted to actually ask for a little more help from him. But the newly tall and comfortably naked designer was sharing an open stare with Henry, looking as if they were having a silent conversation that, if Reggie had to guess, was probably about what Henry wanted to do to Brandon’s suddenly elongated and still very built body. Reggie realized with a start that Henry was now naked too, having at some point shucked his red college sweatshirt to expose a beautiful, creamy-skinned, well-proportioned body that looked like something any sculptor would give his left nut to carved out of the richest alabaster marble.

Also exposed, for all to see, was Henry’s stunning cannon of an erection. Unlike Brandon’s cut 13-incher, which was wide and flat and looked like it would be a lot of fun to try to twist around in your hands, like a fist-filling cock-cobra, Henry’s straight and tall footlong looked fat and iron-hard and utterly immovable—like if you were strong enough, you could lift him up by it, or brace yourself against it and shift the world. It was ironic, given that Henry’s last gift had been a dose of stretchiness; but he’d seen steel girders holding up rising skyscrapers that looked more flexible than that fat prick. Henry’s uncut cock was also slick with precum, whether because he always produced huge amounts of pre, or he was aching for Brandon, Reggie wasn’t sure, and staring at it Reggie unexpectedly felt an awed twinge of interest from his virgin ass. He didn’t know a lot about butt sex, not first-hand anyway; but Henry’s tool looked to him like literally the Platonic ideal of a cock that was meant to be sat on.

Feeling agitated, Reggie looked away in the other direction, only to find that Karl, Oliver, and Rich were all watching him with various expressions of want and longing. Karl and Oliver were both staring at Reggie’s round-winning, blue-ribbon cock. This unwonted study seemed inexplicable and a little embarrassing to Reggie, now that he’d spent the last few heartbeats admiring Henry and Brandon’s much thicker cocks. Sure, he was longer than everyone else now, but—well, he could feel his newly awoken ass telling him, though he had no idea how it knew, that girth was what he craved, and Reggie knew that his only ordinarily wide cock would make a poor showing against either member of the couple to his right. How could the two smutty brothers staring at him want his monster so much, as they clearly both did, when Henry’s massive, obviously perfect-for-fucking cock was right there? It was even pre-lubed, for fuck’s sake, with its own slick drool.

He looked over to Rich instead, but Rich, for his part, was observing Reggie’s face, as if Reggie himself were beautiful. Reggie quickly looked away at nothing, suddenly abashed and uncomfortable. Liam was the beauty. At the very thought of Liam, Reggie’s cock flexed, spasming out an inch from his taut abdomen and then slapping back, leaving a damp trail against his tan, heated skin. Geez, his hormones were practically boiling over. That blow job from Nude Brandon had not only not relieved him, it felt like it had primed him, as if pounding massive amounts of jizz down naked-boy’s eager throat had just leveled Reggie up to a new, uncommonly intense plane of arousal. His breath sounded loud in his ears, as if he were literally panting from need, and the quick glance around he’d had before told him he wasn’t far ahead of the others on that score, but they were still somehow keeping it together. How were they not all jacking off? His hands twitched at the thought where they rested on the arm-rests. He guessed it would be too vulgar for him to just grab his pole in both hands and start fapping in front of everybody. It felt almost like it would be disrespectful to the group, like the amazing orgasm he’d just had thanks to three of his fellow players (and the avid scrutiny and support of the rest) had been wanting and inadequate in some way.

That certainly wasn’t the case by any means—far from it. Still, his dick felt like needed touch, it was practically pining for it. He could ignore what his ass was aching for, he thought, at least for now; but when it came to his cock he wasn’t so sure. Maybe he could just dip down real quick, and just…pop his mouth around it for a minute? It would be even easier to do now with the extra few inches, and it wouldn’t be like he was actually jacking or anything. He could just lean down for a second and—

“Liam’s turn,” the Avatar said, once again nudging Reggie out of his sex-dreams. Almost reluctantly, Reggie looked up at his heart-poundingly beautiful boss just as the sphere with the dice appeared in Liam’s lap. Liam smiled at Rich to his right and then shook the sphere, rolling the virtual dice around inside. A moment later the dice stilled, and the Avatar announced: “Richard’s face transformed: 20% more kissable…” They all exchanged amused glances and tilted eyebrows, while Rich blushed adorably, as the host carried on, “…with override: triple amount of change.”

Liam laughed outright. “I cannot wait to see what that means,” he said.

They all watched Rich intently, and Reggie thought that while any of the others would have basked in the collective stare, handsome, unassuming Rich was fidgeting, unused to such attention. Still, Reggie felt no impulse to spare Rich his own scrutiny. He realized that something was indeed happening, though it was hard to put a finger on at first. It was almost as though his gaze was filling with Rich’s mouth—his full, sweet lips, the faint stubble of a soft, black five-o’clock shadow just visible against his slightly olive skin. He sensed that it would be difficult now to look away, but he didn’t want to. At the same time his own lips felt—hungry. He wanted those lips. He wanted very much to feel him against his own, as the more her thought about it the more he was aware of what lay behind them—Rich’s mouth, his own mouth. And—fuck, their tongues. Their fucking tongues. He’d kissed a lot in his life—not a lot of guys, but long, sweet hours with some of the best kissers he could ever have asked for. But this. He had never been more aware of the sensuousness of his and another’s lips … mouths … tongues in his entire life.

“Holy fuck,” someone murmured.

Someone else—himself, Reggie realized—said in a husky voice, “He needs to be kissed.”

A second later he heard another voice—Liam’s rich tenor, he thought—answer unexpectedly, “He’s looking at you, Rocky.”

A little surprised by this statement, with some difficulty Reggie lifted his eyes to find that Rich’s stormy, dark blue eyes were boring into him. Without being aware of any thought or decision, Reggie rose from his seat and, stepping around the tactfully quiescent Avatar, padded across the short intervening space. He didn’t feel the cool carpet against his wide, bare feet. He didn’t feel the firm, smooth wood of Rich’s chair against his knees as he straddled the quiet, suit-clad tenderfoot, their eyes still locked together. He didn’t notice as his oversized cock painted a dark, obscene smear of precum across Rich’s loosened, peacock-green tie. But he felt down to his stomach, down to his toes, the intensity of Rich’s lips before they even met his, like an electric charge shivering the skin, and when their lips met Reggie felt it deep, deep down inside him.

Rich opened for him, and Reggie, far from pushing in to devour him, deepened the kiss almost reverently, slowly savoring the rush of rich pleasure that washed and churned through his entire body. Their tongues met in their hot mouths like long-sundered soulmates, twisting and caressing as their kiss intensified. Everything about this kiss, from the soft burn of Rich’s sparse stubble to the unshakable rightness of Rich’s tongue in his mouth, of their mouths together, felt like ambrosia to Reggie, and the surrounding world dimmed. Reggie was faintly aware he was gripping Rich’s bared, urgent erection, and Rich had both hands around Reggie’s towering tool; but this moment, these heartbeats were not about their cocks at all, and even the blinding orgasm that erupted between them a moment later was about the intensity and necessity of their deep, beautiful, universe-engulfing kiss.

They came hard together, making out hungrily, their lips never parting despite the shots of cum painting jizz across their chins and cheeks, most of it from Reggie’s long, shuddering erection but with plenty of assist from Rich’s below it. As Reggie soared from the orgasm their lips finally parted, and they pressed sweat-damp foreheads against each other. Reggie became aware again of where he was, but he wasn’t even a little ashamed of the last few minutes. He also wasn’t ready to be any kind of distance away from Rich’s necessary mouth.

He pulled back only just far enough to meet Rich’s gaze, and his hot stare told Reggie they were both in agreement: Reggie needed to stay right where he was. In a single, agile twist he deftly turned himself around to sit across Rich’s lap, his left arm around Rich’s shoulders, their faces close enough to be reassuring, should they need to partake of each other. Rich’s left arm snaked around Reggie’s long, bare back, while Rich’s right hand, Reggie realized, still had a loose grip around Reggie’s cum-covered cock—which, uncannily, was still hard even after having cum twice in short succession. He could feel Rich’s equally rigid eleven-and-a-half-incher against his right butt-cheek, and decided that constant raging hard-ons were something they were all going to have to get used to, at least for now.

And what about tomorrow? Reggie thought as he settled into his new position, sharing another deep look with Rich. Would things still be like this? Would he still be this horny, and, well, this huge? Rich’s eyes glinted as Reggie stared into them, seeming to shift something deep inside Reggie. A breaker flipped. Impulsively, Reggie leaned in for another kiss, but though it was sweet and sensuous they kept it brief, as if to prove to each other that they didn’t have to lose themselves in infinite lovemaking. One luscious kiss would hold them, for now. They shared one more final, concluding kiss, and then Rich rested his head on Reggie’s shoulder and closed his eyes in easy contentment, while Reggie turned a defiant smile on the rest. In response they burst into a brief round of spontaneous applause.

“That was awesome,” Oliver said, and Karl added in agreement, “I’ll never need porn again. I just have to replay that moment whenever I need it.”

Reggie rolled his eyes, but felt his smile turn soft and warm as Henry said seriously, “Nice job, guys. That was really beautiful.” He saw that Henry’s hand was finally wrapped around his immutable cannon and his tightly muscled chest and abs were doused with fresh, hot cum. Reggie felt oddly touched. Karl and Oliver’s lewd appreciation was fun, but Henry and Brandon were embodiments of sexual masculinity. That made Henry’s approval (to the point of orgasm) worth a lot, and also pretty damn hot. Reggie’s cock flexed in Rich’s gentle grip, seeming to agree.

“Just you wait,” Liam reminded them from behind Reggie’s naked back. “We’re all going to come out of this with sights and experiences we’ll all never forget.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Reggie murmured. He was glad that it was Rich who had gotten the kissability gift, and had connected with him so deeply as a result. If Liam had gotten it, the intensity of his infatuation with him would probably have made his heart explode. Liam was a god, and, well, everyone knew what came from fucking the gods. But Rich—damn. He could date Rich. He could be with Rich. He wondered for the first time if that was an actual possibility, if the feelings that he knew were stirring in both of them would be there after tonight. He gently laid a kiss on Rich’s dark, close-cropped hair, enjoying the faint scent of shampoo and sweat and cum, and felt Rich nuzzle happily against his shoulder.

The Avatar chose this moment to resume the game, having waited patiently for Reggie and Rich to conclude their moment—whether out of some programmed-in respect for what Reggie and Rich were experiencing, or deferring to someone’s tacit indication that it should wait, Reggie couldn’t guess. Liam had arranged all of this, and maybe the Avatar was watching him for signs and signals. Or maybe Liam was actually running this whole show. They all had no idea what was in back of everything they were experiencing.

“Henry’s turn,” the Avatar said now. Henry’s hands, his left one still semen-covered from the orgasm he’d evidently had watching Reggie and Rich, grasped the newly manifested sphere and spun. “Henry’s fingers transformed,” intoned the Avatar: “20% more fingers, with override: change recurs next 2 turns.”

“Fuck,” Rich said softly. Reggie looked down to see Rich’s eyes were now open, and he was watching with interest—considerable interest, if the pulsing of Rich’s cock against his ass was any indication. Reggie hoped that one of his own next transformations would inspire similar interest from his kiss-partner.

“I love this game,” Oliver said reverently. Henry lifted his hands up gamely for all of them to watch, and between one heartbeat and the next Henry had five fingers and a thumb on both hands. He wiggled them proudly, one still coated with his own cum.

“I was going to come and lick your hand clean before,” Nude Brandon told him solemnly, eyes alight. “But now, there’s no way you’ll be able to stop me.” No sooner had he spoken than he had leapt to his feet and had all but pounced on his blond, confident, alabaster beauty, taking Henry’s augmented hand into his mouth as he curled into Henry’s lap as if it were a cushioned set in a bay window.

Reggie noticed Rich was watching them with an appreciative smile. He kissed Rich’s hair again. “You like?” Reggie asked.

“He’s got two more turns of that,” Rich breathed. He dropped his head back against Reggie’s shoulder. “Please get something like that,” he said, his quiet request sounding like an admission. “I’d like that a lot.”

Reggie felt a rush of warmth and affection as he bent to share a real, universe-twisting kiss with the man he was already catching himself thinking of as “his” Rich. They broke off quickly, before they risked driving themselves to a new, heart-wrenching orgasm, and Reggie responded breathlessly with a soft smile, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Brandon’s turn,” the Avatar said at that moment. They turned to watch Brandon, still curled up in Henry’s lap, leave off licking his boyfriend’s hand to spin the dice-sphere. The Avatar announced the result. “Liam’s pecs transformed: 30% thicker—”

Liam burst out with a loud “Woo-hoo!”, which set the rest of them laughing. The Avatar continued, “—with override: Target’s choice. Change can also be offered to any other player.”

As one, the entire group went “Ooooo.” Reggie twisted to watch Liam’s yummy chest swell and thicken quite a bit inside his snug Under Armor muscle shirt, and Reggie found himself having to consciously catch his breath. The way the chairs were set so tightly together meant that Liam’s radiant beauty was mere inches from him, and he thought that he could feel it as if it were a palpable force, stirring up every register of arousal and stimulation. Fuck, Liam really was an actual, flesh and blood Adonis, and this game was only making him more incredible.

“Target’s choice,” Nude Brandon prodded in a sing-song voice, and Reggie tore his gaze away from Liam to where Brandon was still lounging in his placid lover’s welcoming lap, still caressing Henry’s formerly cum-covered six-fingered hand with both of his.

“Who’s it going to be, boss?” Karl said. But it was Rich who said in a quiet but firm voice, “Reg.” Reggie liked the sound of Rich saying his name that way. No one called him “Reg”, so Rich saying the name that way spontaneously felt intimate and connected. He squeezed Rich’s shoulder with his right hand, and Rich smiled up at him before turning back to Liam.

Liam leaned forward enough to peer around Reggie and meet Rich’s eyes, eyebrow raised. “Yeah?”

Rich just nodded silently. A realization that they were actually talking about deliberately transforming him came over Reggie and he felt an urge to object—somehow that felt different from all the random, dice-rolled changes the game had given them all so far. But then his eyes fell to Rich’s handsome face, his sexy eyes and captivating mouth, and words kind of fell away from him.

“You’re right,” Liam said from behind him. “We should all do everything possible to make our amazing intern even more beautiful than he already is.”

Reggie felt his eyebrows come together at that. Rich seemed to find that funny because he grinned up at Reggie in a way that made him need to kiss him hard and deep. He was barely aware of Karl’s “Seconded!”, though some part of his brain wondered idly whether that was for Liam’s choice of Reggie as a target for this transformation, or for the idea that they should generally pile changes onto Reggie is given the chance. As he took his time with Rich’s kiss he hoped it was the latter, but that small part of him that was capable of thought in that moment knew that the guys would delight in taking Liam’s suggestion very much to heart should any future opportunities arise. He almost didn’t care one way or another—in that moment, nearly the entirely of his being Rich’s hot, delicious mouth, sweet lips, and amazing tongue.

“So be it,” Reggie heard Liam say, followed by an address directly to the Avatar: “Give it to—um, Reginald!”

Reggie snorted into his kiss, guessing that Liam had been on the brink of using his new nickname, but hadn’t been sure that the AI would know who “Rocky” was, or even “Reggie”. He felt a flutter in his stomach as he and Rich broke their kiss in time to watch with awe as Reggie’s pecs swelled with thick, strong, beautiful muscle. The weight of his growing pecs, and the improvement in strength and power they provided, felt like a revelation to Reggie, and he stared at them with wide eyes, stunned by the amazing upgrade. As a committed and eager athlete who worked out with solid regularity, and also as a guy who deeply appreciated how sexy a pair of thick, square, heavy pecs glistening with sweat looked on a guy (including on himself), Reggie had already had a very nice, well built chest. But this—this pushed him up into a whole new level, both of strength and of aesthetic beauty. Fuck, they looked unbelievable, even from above.

Rich seemed to agree. He was staring at Reggie’s chest with an expression of deep admiration and runaway lust. Suddenly Rich dove down and attacked Reggie’s now disproportionately huge chest, licking and sucking the muscle so intensely that Reggie, who’d been verging close to the boiling point for ages now, ever since he’d cum from kissing Rich and well before that, suddenly exploded in yet another mind-bending orgasm. What felt like pints of hot cum shot up his long cock, still held in Rich’s firm grasp, and splashed all over his thick, wonderful new pecs.

“Fuck, that’s perfect,” Rich gasped, licking and sucking at Reggie’s chest with renewed fervor, not stopping even when Rich came himself, shuddering in an intense climax against Reggie as he relentlessly licked every drop of cum from Reggie’s chest. As soon as he finished Rich’s feverish eyes met his and they plunged into a ferocious kiss of almost bruising intensity, breaking free only when they both ran out of breath. As they again rested their foreheads together, panting, someone off to their right moaned, “Fuck … you guys are … fuck.”

There was more soft laughter at that from around the circle. Someone moved nearby, and Reggie looked up from Rich’s face—to see the Avatar’s handsome, unemotional visage looking directly down at him. Now Reggie laughed, because he was imagining the AI clearing his throat decorously, like a family retainer waiting for the young master to finish ejaculating before calling him to tea. But when the Avatar intoned, “Reginald’s turn,” he did so without a single harrumph.

Reggie shook his head as the dice-sphere appeared before him. How could there be any more to this night? It felt like too many impossibilities had already come true. He spun the globe, and the Avatar said, “Karl’s thighs transformed: 30% thicker…”

There was murmuring of general approval. “Good one, bro,” Oliver put in.

The Avatar went on: “…with override: reverse next sender’s last change.”

Reggie quickly realized that the next sender was Karl, and that meant Karl’s last transformation—increased horniness all the time.

“How will we be able to tell?” Reggie heard Liam say again, clearly having put together the same pieces. But Reggie’s heart went out to Karl a little, and he met Karl’s gaze a moment before looking down with the others to watch Karl’s thighs swell dramatically. Karl was pretty horny, which he tended to express, especially tonight, through a kind of extroverted playfulness, but if Karl was anything like as horny as Reggie was feeling in this very moment, having it be augmented by another 20% would be kind of crazy. He joined in the general applause for Karl’s change, though as he only had one free hand, and it was currently carding through Rich’s short hair, he kept his contribution to hoots and cheers of approval.

All eyes stayed on Karl as the Avatar announced that it was now the uninhibited CFO’s turn. Karl lowered the sphere so it brushed unmissably against his newly pants-leg-filling thighs, earning a round of chuckles from the group, and spun the dice. “Brandon’s horniness transformed: 40% more horny all the time, with override: no overrides.”

“Holy shit!” Reggie burst out, and they all turned to look at him, laughing. “No, I just—I was just thinking,” Reggie sputtered, “the game was doing Karl a favor by taking away his extra horniness, and then—!”

“Maybe there’s a rule about conservation of horniness,” Henry joked. Henry was watching Nude Brandon, as Reggie still thought of him even though half of them were now stark naked, with great interest, as were the rest of them. There was no physical change to see, not exactly, but there was an outward manifestation: Brandon already seemed to be writhing a little in Henry’s lap, and a look of overpowering need came over him. His thirteen incher seemed to stiffen, no longer wagging but now seemingly as immovably hard as his boyfriend’s massive iron pillar.

“Dude, I gotta—” Brandon begged, shooting Henry an urgent, almost desperate expression.

“C’mon,” Henry said gently, and together swiftly they repositioned Brandon so that Brandon was sinking onto Henry’s enormous footlong spike. The group watched in awe as the massive, torpedo-shaped pole pushed deep inside his taller, honey-dark lover, and almost immediately as it disappeared Brandon started spurting cum like a hiccupping water fountain.

“Shit! Shit!” Brandon was gasping. “Shit, that not even—that’s—not even the orgasm—fuck—oh my god, Henry, oh my god!” As Brandon spasmed with intense pleasure, ridden by his own extreme arousal with not doubt a boost from Liam’s contagious horniness and the generally heightened level of hormonal saturation in the close space, Henry, his face beaming with ecstasy at the obvious thrill of having his thick cannon deep inside Brandon, wrapped his strong, sculpted arms around Brandon’s lithe, lanky, well-muscled torso, coursing his six-fingered hands over his lover’s heated flesh.

Perhaps it was obvious even to the AI host that they would be at it a while, because he turned to Oliver and announced that it was his turn. Oliver, watching Henry and Brandon closely as if adding another live porno to his mental collection, barely looked down to spin the dice, much to Reggie’s amusement. “Reginald’s body transformed:” the Avatar announced, and Reggie felt his heart pounding with anticipation—mostly, he realized with surprise, in hope that the change would be hot for Rich. “30% more limber,” the Avatar went on, and Reggie and Rich exchanged delighted glances, while Karl and Oliver cheered and even Brandon and Henry managed to gasp approval. Then came the rest: “…With override: also next change.”

Reggie glanced at Oliver, who’d be getting the next transform that would also be shared with him, and then he realized that Rich would be the sender, the last player of the turn. Rich’s face was alight as Reggie said, “It’ll be you that does it to me, whatever it is. I can’t wait.”

“You’re not going to show me your … limberness?” Rich asked in a quiet but mischievous voice.

Reggie shrugged. “I’ll put my ankles behind my head for you later,” he said casually. He’d probably be able to suck himself to the root now, too, Reggie realized. But being able to do that seemed a lot less important than it had twenty minutes ago.

“Fuck,” he heard Karl say, no doubt imagining Reggie twisting himself into a self-sucking, fuckable pretzel, but Reggie’s mind was all on what was coming next.

“Richard’s turn,” the Avatar said. The dice-sphere appeared in their lap, and Rich reluctantly let go of Reggie’s cock, though only for the few seconds it took to spin the sphere. The Avatar pronounced the change: “Oliver’s height transformed,” he said. “40% taller…” Reggie and Rich gaped at each other, each clearly thinking about Reggie’s already towering height of 6 and a half feet, as the Avatar relentlessly continued, “With override: target with smallest cock instead.”

All eyes swiveled to Reggie. He frowned, a bit put off even, as he was certain he was the one with the largest cock. But then he remembered he’d assumed the role of group statistician and announcer, and his expression cleared. “Liam and Karl are both 10 inches,” he told everyone, remembering the reckoning the Avatar had given them at the start of the game. “But—” He twisted around to double-check Liam’s already memorized erection, feeling a twinge in his heart as he did so, and tried to keep it brief, like looking at the sun. “—Karl’s is thinner, so—” He looked over at Karl, who was grinning. “Sorry dude, you’re the shrimp.”

Karl laughed. “I never thought having only ten inches would get me anything,” he said, throwing up finger quotes for the “only” part.

And then Karl started to grow. And … so did Reggie.

“You should get out of those clothes,” Liam advised suddenly, calm amusement in his voice, and Karl looked down at his slowly expanding body with an “Oh shit” expression. He jumped to his feet and started pulling off his remaining clothes in rapid succession.

“One more nudist,” Oliver said, clearly not at all minding the sight of his hot brother getting naked.

“And you’d better get up,” Liam said. He was still behind Reggie where he sat across Rich’s lap, but he knew Liam meant him. “You’re the round winner again anyway,” Liam added. Reggie glanced at the center of the ring and realized that the Avatar had once again vanished. Already feeling himself stretching, and aware that (as he had guessed with Brandon) it felt amazingly, euphorically good, Reggie clambered to his feet and, a little less reluctantly than before, took his place in the center of the ring.

It was a stranger circle than before. Liam was still intoxicatingly beautiful and radiating arousal, now with a godly chest—but one that matched Reggie’s own oversized pecs. Would his pecs stay huge-looking as he kept growing? Reggie wondered. He’d already calculated his ending height—just over nine feet! A solid ten inches taller than where Karl would end up. And though he knew Brandon had kept his proportions more or less, maybe ending up a bit lankier, it seemed like all bets must be off when you blew up from 6’6” to 9 feet tall. Reggie turned, his point of view rising slowly as his body stretched and expanded with all the delicious, almost unbearably intense sensations of a body-sized cock being stroked to a quick and explosive climax, and he took in Henry and Brandon. They were now both visibly close to orgasm, regardless of the fact that Brandon appeared to be constantly cumming, with sperm arcing over and over out of his thirteen-incher: their faces were read, their mouths open, and they were both staring—at him, as he stood before them, becoming a giant, visually stimulating them as Brandon fucked himself on Henry’s impossibly hard, ass-busting cock. Brandon wasn’t even touching himself, his hands ghosting over Henry’s augmented ones as they caressed and groped Brandon’s long, muscular body. They were going to cum soon, and he, Reggie, was a part of it, just by standing in front of them and growing bigger and bigger and bigger.

Karl was growing too, but he’d taken his seat again once his clothes were shed, content to leave the floor to Reggie as he swelled in his Adirondack chair, his heels sliding toward Reggie as his legs and torso stretched and grew away from his middle. Karl’s eyes were fixed on Reggie, glinting with appreciation, as he openly jacked his ten-inch tool. Oliver, meanwhile, was stroking too—he’d shucked his distressed jeans and was now just as naked as his brother, and like Karl was taking in the amazing sight of Reggie slowly towering higher and higher over them. Except Oliver’s eyes kept dancing to his right, apparently just as interested in his hunky brother’s growth as he was in Reggie’s.

And then—Reggie turned back to Rich. His Rich, the only one left (apart from Liam in his muscle shirt) who was still partly dressed, though his once-respectable suit jacket and dress shirt were now stained with gouts of cum. His Rich, who was looking up at him with blazing arousal and something like fierce adoration. Before tonight he hadn’t known Rich well and had pegged him as the quiet one, but the potency of the look Rich was giving him now told him that this Rich would swim oceans and fight dragons to stay at Reggie’s side. He aimed a crooked grin at Rich, a look that told him that what he was about to do was really for him. He rested his eyes on Rich’s mouth, memories of their kisses flooding through him so strongly it was like they were still at it, still kissing with the ferocity of a burning sun, and wrapped both hands around his mighty cock.

Rich flushed and, with a grin, wrapped a single hand around his own heavy cock, now nearly a foot long in its own right and wide as fuck, and watched, eyes wide and bright, as Reggie started to bring himself off with slow, steady thrusts into his own fists.

Reggie wasn’t sure whether it was his imagination or an adjustment to circumstances of a kind the game seemed inclined to make from time to time, but as he fucked his hands his slow, steady growth toward that gargantuan nine foot one he was heading for shifted to growth in spurts timed with his thrusts, so that each shove into his hands seemed to grow him, and the intensity of the pleasure he was feeling from jacking himself was magnified tenfold with each lurching growth. The immensity of it nearly brought him to his knees, but he kept his feet and, now training his eyes trained unwaveringly on Rich’s, he pushed himself hard and fast to hugeness as he drove himself closer and closer to the brink, until he could hardly stand the pleasure, until his unreleased climax seemed to fill the room—and then, suddenly, he came hard, his orgasm tearing him open, laying him bare to the pure ecstasy of the universe. His vision went white with exploding stars, but he heard and felt, as if it was happening to him, as Rich came in a brutal climax that roared through them over and over, and then they were all cumming, Liam and Henry and Brandon and Karl and Oliver and Reggie, all cumming together with such unparalleled power that it seemed like it would rip the world off its axis.

He came to himself on the floor, crumpled to his knees after all, and already Liam and Rich were on their feet and helping him up, maneuvering his giant form into the just-large-enough chair he’d vacated a million years ago to kiss his man. Liam, flushed and sweaty and looking more human because of it, smiled down at him and shifted back toward his chair. Reggie grabbed Rich and pulled him down into his lap before he could do the same. “I think this way will work better now,” Reggie said, and Rich silently snuggled against him, still in the top half of his bedraggled suit. It would actually be kind of hot, Reggie mused somewhere in his elation-soaked mind, if Rich’s clothes continued through the night bearing all the signs of the game’s increasing strangeness, becoming more and more disheveled as they departed further and further from their normal selves.

Reggie fell back against the seat, content and sated, though his cock was still hard after yet another earth-shattering orgasm. Out of curiosity he took stock of his new leviathan form. His proportions had indeed generally kept pace for the most part, though he was looking pretty stretched out, and his pecs were definitely way bigger in relation to the rest of him than he was used to. But just as had been the case with Brandon, his cock remained the same size as before—he was still fourteen and a half inches, which was like having a ten-incher on his old body. He decided that was fine. He wrapped his arms around Rich. He was more than content.

He glanced over at giant Karl, who was looking blissed out with his head fallen back, one hand still wrapped around his proportionately smaller-looking erection and the other clasping Oliver’s hand, his brother lounging in his chair in an identical, mirrored position. Reggie raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing and turned to check out Brandon and Henry. Brandon seemed covered with cum and was clearly, like Henry, in a post-coital heaven, for all his still-rigid thirteen-incher was even now burbling little spurts of cum. Henry was murmuring against the dark skin of Brandon’s neck, and Reggie heard him say in a low, loving voice, “Do you want to—?”

But Brandon broke in, whispering back, “No. I want you inside me. Don’t … don’t ever not be inside me.”

Catching a movement in his peripheral vision Reggie looked up to see Liam returning from the edge of the pool of light into the center of the ring. He’d evidently stashed a cooler or something similar out there, because he was now passing around longneck bottles of very good beer from a clinking pile cradled in the crook of his arm, like a baby made of green glass and alcohol. “Fortify yourselves, boys,” he said as he distributed his largesse. He caught Reggie’s eye and smiled, as he handed Rich two bottles, one for each of them, before moving on to Brandon and Henry. “The craziest stuff,” the beautiful Liam said, “is definitely still to come.”

Rich deftly twisted the caps off both beers and handed one to Reggie, his dark blue eyes filled with contented lust. Reggie’s right hand was occupied in sliding slowly up and down Rich’s back through his suit jacket, so he took the green longneck in his left hand and raised it slowly to his mouth, never taking his eyes off Rich’s sweetly handsome face and mesmerizing lips. He took a deep swig of the bitter, high-end lager, willing Rich to do the same. He wanted to kiss Rich with a steady, pulsing urge that originated somewhere deep inside his chest, kiss him all the time, kiss him endlessly, and it came to him with a certain wry amusement that he wanted all kinds of kisses with Reg—beery kisses, frostbit kisses on a ski-slope mountainside, foamy latte kisses after an impulsive stop in at Julie’s Coffee And Sit by the park after a long hand-holding autumn walk, sweaty kisses as Rich dove into his arms right there on the pitch after a hard-fought soccer game. Kisses for no reason and any reason, any time, all the time. In all these fantasies they were as they were now, Reggie still nine feet tall with slightly overinflated pecs and a constantly hard monster cock that was completely unhidable whether he was in school clothes, business drag, casual park-strolling garb, or sweat-drenched soccer togs. His olive-skinned lover was likewise sporting his own footlong permaboner and looking slightly debauched and besotted even in an impeccable work suit, or tight but understated clubbing clothes for the nights they went dancing together, attracting the attention of every man in the churning, writhing crowd.

Rich, watching him closely, seemed to guess Reggie’s unvoiced request, because he took a long pull from the bottle and then immediately brought his lips down to meet Reggie’s, and they both reveled for some unknown time in the dark, delicious taste of their mouths and tongues.

“God, look at them,” he heard Oliver murmur from somewhere to his left, and Reggie felt his awareness drift lazily back into derelict mall and the strangely stocked HotBoys outlet and the tight circle of increasingly sexified men. He opened his eyes and found Rich’s looking deeply into his as their kiss slowed to a standstill, their wet, tingling lips still pressed closely together, their mouths slightly open. Even this was simple happiness, Reggie thought. He had to figure out a way to make this his life, and have this all the time. His rigid, fourteen-inch-plus monster cock tapped wetly against his abs. They could kiss while doing other things, too, Reggie thought, and Rich’s twinkling eyes seemed to register the same thought.

“Fuck, no kidding, bro,” Karl laughed. “There should be a porn stream that’s just Rich and Rocky kissing, twenty-four/seven.” Reggie smiled against Rich’s lips, and Rich smiled back. Before tonight, he’d been mortified by his big, obvious boners whenever they popped up at work or school, and the thought of being naked and hard and making out like this in front of anyone would have appalled him. But this new bond with Rich had been forged in public, a spectacle shared with five other men. He could fuck Rich here and now, just as Henry and Brandon were doing. Or he could take Rich home, ensconcing them in his (suddenly massive to fit his nine-foot frame) warm, cozy bed, and make love to him, folding him up in his giant, limber body and creating for them both a constant, never-ending carnal bliss.

“I think we’re a hit,” Rich whispered, his face still tantalizingly close. Reggie grinned and, moved by the warmth of their unexpected connection, lifted his chin to kiss Rich quickly on the nose. This elicited an abashed grin from Rich and a chorus of “D’awww”s from both sides.

“Round Three,” the Avatar announced, and Reggie’s pulse quickened in anticipation. Rich squirmed happily in his lap. Reggie remembered Rich’s lusty wish that he acquire a change like Henry’s extra fingers, and his smile broadened. Rich kissed him affectionately, on the lips this time, and turned his attention to their hunky, translucent host. Reggie wondered idly if the austerely handsome AI was available for hire. Maybe when he wasn’t hosting game nights like this he had a regular job, like a receptionist or a barista. Hmm, Adonis could use a receptionist, Reggie mused. And Liam could probably afford him, or the technology behind him.

Reggie took a second swig of beer and then set the half-full bottle down on the carpet by his low-slung Adirondack chair, somehow feeling his decks should be clear before the new round truly got under way. Rich followed suit, taking a pull on his beer before handing the bottle to Reggie to set beside his own, then wrapped his right arm around Reggie’s broad, bare shoulders. The fabric of the much-bedraggled suit jacket felt nice enough against Reggie’s neck, but he found himself jonesing for full-body contact, and wondering whether Rich was teasing him, putting off his final nakedness on purpose to stoke Reggie’s fires. Or maybe he was just shy? Probably both, Reggie thought fondly, looking him over with a small smile. He wondered what pretext he could use to demand the full monty.

“Liam’s turn,” the Avatar was saying. All eyes turned to the bright-eyed CEO, who was finishing off his own beer even as his name was announced, before bending to set the empty bottle aside. Reggie considered him from across the tight circle. He was still hauntingly beautiful, the stuff of dreams, and Reggie could feel his intoxicating presence from where he sat a few feet away. But Reggie was relieved to realize that the weirdly overwhelming, effortless allure of the man he’d been obsessing over for weeks was now considerably blunted by Rich’s own interest in him. Sure, a niggling part of Reggie’s brain was trying to spread misgivings, along the lines of good-looking, sweet, professional Rich being just as unattainable as a perfect, godly CEO for a teenager whose current major life goal was not embarrassing himself at soccer camp this summer. Then Liam started spinning the virtual dice, and Reggie remembered that Liam’s target was Rich—his Rich. All other thoughts went out the window. “Richard’s tongue transformed,” the Avatar said finally: “quantity, plus one.”

Reggie gasped, and he thought he heard several appreciative murmurs and chuckles around the circle. “Go, Rocky!” someone cheered, as if the second tongue were a transformation for Reggie instead of Rich, and fit nicely in with the group’s general desire to make sure Reggie got extra helpings at the game’s transformation buffet. Rich turned and looked at him with a cautious smile, as if his only concern was whether Reggie would enjoy a change like that. Reggie stared at Rich’s super-kissable mouth with wide eyes, his heart pounding like mad. He couldn’t wait. But—the override! a worried thought broke in. It might—

“With override,” the Avatar continued, and Reggie held his breath. “Also next change,” it said.

No sooner had Reggie let out a shuddering gust of pure relief than both their gazes shifted to each other’s lips, each signaling to the other the same electric thought: They could experience this change together. Before Reggie knew it their mouths had joined in a deep, hungry kiss. The transformation was swift, but not instantaneous. As they kissed, Reggie dragged his own tongue along Rich’s and he felt a surge of new arousal as Rich’s wide, strong tongue transformed even as Reggie’s danced with it into two long, slightly narrower tongues that seemed to partly overlap, like broad-shouldered twins who enjoyed sharing a narrow bed. Reggie felt himself shuddering with raw pleasure, his prodigious balls churning as he crested very close to another explosive release.

Then Rich’s free hand found Reggie’s towering, unceasing erection, and Reggie moaned into their kiss—not because of Rich’s touch, but because it must have occurred to Rich, as it now came to Reggie, that Reggie’s mouth was not the only place on his body where Rich’s twin-tongued ministrations could conjure soaring, unparalleled pleasure. Reggie broke the kiss, panting, staring into Rich’s lust-dark eyes, trying to stave off an orgasm because it was suddenly very important to him that the next time he came, he did so as a result of being licked and sucked Rich and his miraculous mouth.

Trying to de-escalate himself, he went for humor. “You still talk okay with those things?” he said roughly, smirking at Rich’s mouth, though his cheeks were still hot and his raging dick still quivered at Rich’s gentle, baiting touch. His balls suddenly told him that they, too, wanted to be licked by Rich’s new acquisitions, and Reggie found himself dangerously close again, tottering on the cliff’s edge.

Rich just arched an eyebrow at him and said, “Yup.” Reggie’s heart was pounding so hard he was sure the other could hear it. Holy fuck, he thought. He was two seconds from forgetting the game and just tossing Rich over his shoulder in search of an abandoned Barnes & Noble to start in on hours and hours of mind-blowing lovemaking, starting with Reggie’s aching, swollen balls and working up from there. Rich, however, just gave him a wink and turned to look at Henry, who went next, as if nothing mattered to him but the results of the coming turn. Reggie stared at him in wonder. Oh, now he gets cocky? Reggie thought. But then Reggie remembered the “also next change” override, and he too quickly turned to stare at Henry. Henry, for his part, was grinning salaciously over Brandon’s shoulder at them both, as if he knew exactly what was on their minds.

“Henry’s turn,” the Avatar said, and the dice appeared in Henry’s hands where he held them in front of the blissed-out, constantly spurting Brandon. “Henry’s height transformed: 60% more abs.” Henry and Brandon both seemed delighted by this, and there was some hooting of appreciation around the circle for which Reggie and Rich joined in. The Avatar continued: “With override: target to right instead.”

Henry smiled at his lover, who beamed in happy surprise. “Even better!” Henry said. He looked down to see as well as he could, given that Brandon was now over six feet tall and impaled on his cock. Everyone else could see that Brandon had a well carved, honey-colored six-pack, though it was somewhat obscured by his extra-wide thirteen-incher and the considerable quantities of cum that painted his whole torso. That meant that Brandon was about to have a ten-pack, and—

Reggie suddenly realized this change was about to happen to Rich, too, and he didn’t have a moment to lose. “Quick!” he told Rich, who turned to look at him, brow slightly furrowed at his urgent tone. “Get naked, babe,” he told his man. “I have to see this.”

Rich grinned suddenly and jumped to his feet. Standing before Reggie, he went first for his tie, pulling on it slowly. At first Reggie thought anxiously that Rich was going to do a striptease, which, while an awesome prospect at any other moment, was something they didn’t have time for now. He was about to goad Rich to move faster, but as soon as the tie was pulled down enough to make a wide noose Rich yanked it over his head and chucked it aside. Then he did a wonderful thing: grabbing his wrinkled, damp, cum-stained shirt near the top on both side, in one violent motion Rich ripped it open, buttons scattering, exposing the full length of his tight, olive-skinned, slightly hairy torso just as the transformation began. Rich looked down, holding the shirt and jacket apart so they could see, and they both watched in awe as Rich’s torso ratcheted upwards as if with a car jack, adding first one row of abs to Rich’s firm, defined eight-pack, then another. His longer torso and greater height meant the shirt tails that had been licking his thighs now went nowhere near his lower body.

Reggie stared in rapturous appreciation. His eyes followed the thin line of dark, fuzzy hair that now trailed down Rich’s twelve-pack to where his slab-like almost-twelve-incher stood proud and damp against the lower reaches of what looked like endless, rippling abs. “Fuck, I wish it was me with the extra tongue now,” Reggie blurted out, and the others laughed. He lifted his eyes to meeting Rich’s, which were dancing with appreciation for Reggie’s lust. “Please, please take the rest of that off,” Reggie begged. “I have to touch you all over.” He ignored the resulting whoops and catcalls this evoked, especially from his left.

“I thoughd you’d never ask,” Rich said saucily, his enunciation just slightly thicker around the th and s as he accustomed himself to talking with extra tongue. Reggie thought it was adorable. He watched eagerly as Reggie pulled off his jacket and then his tattered shirt, and this time he really did do a striptease, accompanied by Karl, of course, performing the trumpet line from The Stripper with hands and mouth, with Oliver and Liam doing supporting trombone slides, drums, and cymbals. When Rich was naked at last, standing there with a shit-eating grin and his arms spread wide, Reggie joined the others in a round of enthusiastic applause. “C’mere,” he said gently.

“Uh oh, time for the lap dance,” Karl hooted. But Rich just settled into Reggie’s lap in more or less his former position, snuggling against him with a small sigh as if Reggie’s lap were the best place to be in the world. Ignoring their huge, slick, trembling erections, they both settled into casual caresses of each other’s sculpted, augmented bodies, their eyes locked on each other’s. Soon they were kissing, and it was with great difficulty that Reggie surfaced from their affections to pay attention to the rest of the round.

“Brandon’s turn,” the Avatar now said, and the dice appeared in front of Brandon’s newly acquired, chiseled and cum-soaked ten-pack, being stroked by both of Henry’s hands, now again augmented to six fingers and a thumb. The Avatar read out the transformation: “Liam’s cock transformed: 30% longer.” Cheers and applause all around, and Liam gave them all a glib “yeah, that’s right, I’m the man” look. Then the AI continued: “With override: double amount of change.”

“Holy shit!!” Reggie said without meaning to, and then he felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Whoops!” Rich laughed. “Sounds like I still have competition.”

Before Reggie could protest, Liam looked at Rich. “Somehow, I don’t think so,” the black-haired boss told him with a crooked smile. Was there something wistful about the way he said it? Meanwhile, the rest of them were staring at Liam’s own already-impressive tool. Liam, however, had a brief glance down at it, then was looking at Reggie expectantly for some reason he didn’t immediately apprehend.

“Come on, Rocky,” Henry urged, without looking away from Liam’s magnificent erection. “What’s the damage?”

“Yeah, do your job, intern!” Karl jumped in.

“You are the designated size announcer,” Rich added reasonably.

Reggie realized he was himself had been staring dumbly at Liam’s cock, which had just started a spell of slow growth, with his mind completely out of gear. “Um, give me a second,” he temporized, trying to prod his addled brain into enough order to do basic math. “Um, thirty percent of—” he started, then he wanted to smack himself as he remembered that Liam’s dick was stated as being exactly ten inches. The arithmetic couldn’t be simpler—babies could do it, if babies had word problems about growing dicks. “Plus three inches, doubled is six,” he announced, “for a total of sixteen!”

Loud, energetic cheers and applause followed the pronouncement, with Liam joining in as he watched his potent, hypnotically gorgeous cock creep up the muscle shirt he was still wearing, inch by amazing inch. “Boss man! Boss man!” Henry and Brandon chanted as it grew. It finally slowed to a halt with the head resting atop the cleavage between his extra-large pecs, leading to another round of cheers.

“Shiiiit,” Oliver said, sounding suitably awed. “If I had a club like that it would never be out of my mouth.” The others laughed.

“You may end up doing the end-of-round performance this time, boss,” Reggie said happily. He was in no hurry to get up for any reason. He kind of wanted to be curled up against Rich forever.

Liam, however, just cocked an eyebrow at him. “We’ll see about that, junior,” he said. “There’s still a few turns to go yet.”

With a twist of his gut Reggie realized the next turn was actually his, just as the dice-sphere appeared before him. “Reginald’s turn,” the Avatar said. Reggie shook his head and spun the sphere one-handed, wondering what else could possibly happen in this game. “Karl’s eyes transformed: green,” the Avatar pronounced, “with override: only target with smallest cock.”

Everyone immediately turned to look at Reggie, and he snorted out a laugh. “Typical 21st-century America,” Karl chuckled. “Only one person on the team can do math!”

“I hope it’s you, since you’re the one with the accounting and business degrees!” Liam said in mock horror.

“I can only count billable hours,” Karl said with a lazy grin.

Reggie, meanwhile, had been running through his mental profiles. “It’s still Karl anyway,” he put in, turning to the cute CFO on his left. “You’re the once and future shrimp, dude,” he told him.

“Yeah, but now I have sick green eyes,” Karl said significantly, wiggling his eyebrows. Reggie bit his lip, and Karl added uncertainly, “Right?” But just then Karl’s slate-gray eyes suddenly bloomed into a vivid emerald, and Reggie drew in a breath.

Karl broke into a huge grin and turned to face his brother. “What do you think, Ol?” he asked. Reggie saw that they were still holding hands, and smiled.

Oliver gaped at him, then said huskily, “Pretty amazing, bro.” He stared a moment, his long, fat cock twitching, then suddenly he reached up with his free hand and, clasping Karl firmly around the neck, brought him in for a fierce kiss to a chorus of cheers and claps. Reggie found himself seeking out Rich’s dark blue eyes, and finding comfort in their superior allure, and in the fondness he saw there, for himself, and for the two of them together.

As the brothers continued to make out, Liam cleared his throat. “You know,” he drawled, “I may have miscalculated when I arranged this for a party of seven.”

Reggie looked across at him and sniggered. “You thought I’d be the odd man out!” Reggie said, pretending to be take offense. “The lowly intern, fucked over again!”

“And again, and again…” Henry chimed in.

“Hey, I’m the new guy!” Rich said. “New guy’s always on bottom!” This got a laugh from everyone but Karl and Ollie, who were still otherwise engaged. Rich blushed. “Well, not always,” he amended, and Reggie leered happily at him.

“I think it was always destined to be me,” Liam said philosophically. “But,” he added, in another apparent attempt at being amusingly mystical, “the night is still young.” Reggie, still looking at Rich, remembered this was still only the third round, and suppressed a feeling of frustration. He was definitely looking forward to the rest of the game, as he had a feeling he’d like the changes to come even more than the ones he and his Rich had already experienced. But he was also sort of hoping there would be an intermission at some point so that he and his lover could indulge in some desperately needed fucking.

“Did you know what you were getting into, New Guy?” Reggie teased his Rich, moving his hand up from Rich’s endless abs to run it across his dark, close-cropped hair.

“Not even close,” Rich said as Reggie slid his hand down to Rich’s neck. Rich himself be drawn into a languid kiss that, once again, Reggie had to struggle not to lose himself in.

“Karl’s turn,” the Avatar announced, pulling both couples reluctantly out of their make-outs. Karl spun the dice-sphere one-handed, his left hand still firmly laced with Oliver’s. “Brandon’s feet transformed: 30% larger.” Everyone quickly looked at Karl’s feet. Everyone had been unshod and naked from the waist down (at least) for a while now, but no one had really paid much attention to everyone’s feet. Karl, attention whore that he was, wiggled them for everyone’s perusal. They were pale and had a dusting of his chestnut-brown hair tailing off at the ankles, leaving the feet strong and hairless. They were decent-sized already—size 11 before he grew 40% taller, if he remembered correctly from the intros, so probably a good four or five inches longer now, whatever that worked out to in shoe sizes. Reggie had a sudden, brief glimpse at the trouble he might have if he were to try to buy shoes for his own, now enormous feet, especially if he needed them for soccer. The Avatar, however, wasn’t done. “With override,” it said, “only target with longest hair.”

They all looked around the circle at each other in confusion—then every one of them turned to Reggie, all with the same stupid grin. “Oh, come on!” Reggie protested. “What am I, a human laptop?”

“That’s my job,” Rich muttered, lips quirked.

“I think it’s just that we trust your unbiased judgment, hon,” Brandon said.

Reggie shook his head and looked quickly around the ring of participants. “Well, we know it’s not Rich,” he said, rubbing his hand again over his lover’s short and bristly dark hair. The others laughed. “And Henry’s and Karl’s are even shorter.” He gauged Liam’s black hair as being close to his own, wavier ginger hair, past the ears but not as long as … “Has to be Oliver,” he decided aloud. Oliver’s hair was loose and silky, reddish-blond, and down to his shoulders, brushing his defined traps as he turned and beamed at them all. It looked pretty good on him, Reggie thought, and he was clearly proud of it and attentive to its care.

“Finally, getting some props for my awesome hair,” Oliver said happily. He cocked a playfully reproachful eye at his brother, as if there was a history there of poking fun at Oliver’s hair.

“Don’t hate him because he’s beautiful,” Karl admonished the rest of them, but Oliver retorted, “Damn right!” Then they looked down to watch as Oliver’s size twelves, pale and strong like his brother’s, started to swell.

“Whooooa,” Oliver said, watching them. He quickly checked in with his newly gigantified brother to see his reaction—only to see that Karl was actively stroking his rigid, seeping erection with his free hand as he watched Oliver’s dogs grow and grow. Oliver stared at Karl, open mouthed, his hand straying to his own length.

“Hey Ollie,” Reggie called over playfully, “think Foot Locker stocks size twenty-threes?”

Oliver tore his eyes away from Karl to grin at Reggie, though he didn’t stop gently stroking himself with one hand as he held Karl’s hand with the other. “Look who’s talking, Mister Nine-Feet-Tall! You’ll be buying your shoes from the Big and Oh My God He’s a Fucking Monster store!”

“Fuck yeah,” Reggie shot back. “Bet even they won’t have a jock in my size!” Then he caught Rich’s eyes and saw patient amusement there. Suddenly Reggie felt abashed at his juvenile discourse. An awareness had been creeping up on him, and he’d been holding it at bay, but now it suddenly jumped out and attacked: Rich was 25, more than seven years older than him, and the prospect of Rich maintaining interest in him after tonight seemed to be diminishing in proportion to Reggie’s growing certainty that he wanted nothing in the world more than for him and Rich to be together, not just tonight but for as long as possible. “Just, you know, locker-room banter,” he babbled, embarrassed. “I don’t—” he started to continue. But Rich kissed him, deep and sweet, then contentedly rested his head on Reggie’s massive shoulder. Reggie shuddered, and let his hope live a little longer.

“Oliver’s turn,” the Avatar said. Oliver hand to stop his languid stroking in order to spin the virtual dice, but he went back to it as soon as he’d done so. Once again, Reggie remembered only belatedly that he was Oliver’s target, and his stomach filled with butterflies. He wondered if Rich could hear his heart beating. “Reginald’s cock transformed,” the Avatar said, and he drew in a breath. “30% wider,” it continued, “with override: also target with biggest cock.”

“Holy shit!” Reggie burst out again, and Rich laughed, his head still resting on Reggie’s chest and shoulder.

“We don’t need Rocky for this one,” Liam proclaimed. “We all know who’s got that title!”

“As if you needed to be any more cocky,” Henry taunted. Reggie was glad Henry had said it, because it had been on the tip of his own tongue. Liam jokingly gave Henry the finger, then compared his extended middle finger to his very vertical erection, as if everything about him were like his enormous boner.

Speaking of tongues—his eyes met Rich’s, and he could see the same thought welling in him. Rich’s dancing gaze asked, Shall I? and Reggie’s responded desperately, Are you joking?

They shared a long, charged look, and then, just as Reggie felt the transformation starting and his cock starting to slowly thicken and grow, Rich lowered his head and gently wrapped his lips around Reggie’s crown. Reggie gasped so loudly that he knew all eyes turned to him, and he felt a moment’s mortification that his Rich was actually going down on him in front of all his friends and coworkers. Then he remembered that Henry and Brandon had been calmly fucking since round one, and might possibly never stop. He looked over at them with a sheepish grin, and the original Adonis Web Design couple were smiling indulgently at him and Rich as they held each other and made slow, sweet, continuous love, Brandon’s augmented abs and Henry’s multiplied digits contributing less to the stimulating vision they created than the simplicity of their wanton need for each other, expressed through deep penetration, gentle rocking, constant caresses, and the way they so perfectly fit into each other’s profound, masculine beauty.

Then Rich took Reggie further into his mouth and started methodically stimulating his widening cock with his lips and both his tongues, and Reggie lost all awareness of anything but the raw pleasure that Rich was inducing in him. His balls seemed to be swelling too, though that was just simple desire, a need to make enough cum and more, enough to make a spectacular release worthy of the flaming ecstasy coursing through every particle of his flesh. Rich retrieved his arm from around Reggie’s shoulders and slid both hands around Reggie’s thickening length, as if wanting to feel and share the growth with Reggie in as many ways as possible. Reggie felt helpless before the onslaught of sensations, able only to feebly stroke Rich’s long, muscular back as Rich gave him the best blow-job any man had ever received in the history of creation.

He didn’t last long, much to his dismay. He tried to hold out, to prolong to exquisite pleasure Rich was wreaking on his sensitive length with hand and mouth and tongues, but it was too much from the beginning and only spiraled beyond endurance, until at last Reggie, driven to the edge, felt Rich manage to swallow the head of his enormous, double-wide cock, and he was driven powerlessly over, bursting into an orgasm that felt like a hundred orgasms. He was aware of jets and jets of seed, Rich swallowing most of it manfully until he gave up and fell to licking up and down Reggie’s quivering, oversensitive cock, while Reggie came and came, and saw nothing but blackness and stars.

“Jesus, Rocky,” he heard an awestruck Oliver say. “You are one lucky fuck.”

“Yeah?” Karl teased. “We’ll see what happens when I get a second tongue.”

“I bet you’re okay with what you got,” Oliver replied appraisingly.

Reggie paid no attention. He tucked a finger under Rich’s stubbly chin and pulled him up to face him, then dove in for a ferocious kiss that quickly slowed and deepened. Reggie loved tasting himself on Rich’s lips and tongues, but more than that he felt a thrill deep into his bones that Rich wanted to do these things, wanted to share pleasure with him, and there was a very real chance it wasn’t just because he was a good kisser or that he had a really big dick.

“Richard’s turn,” the Avatar said. Reggie reluctantly broke the kiss, knowing that Rich had to roll the dice. Rich did so, returning his right arm afterward to its proper place wrapped around Reggie’s shoulder. “Oliver’s tongue transformed: 60% stretchier.”

“Oh yeah!” Oliver cheered. He was stroking himself still, and his eyes automatically looked over to meet Karl’s.

“Fuck yes,” Karl said. Clearly, they were looking ahead to experiencing the change as part of a deep, orgasmic lip-lock.

But they had to wait for the other shoe. “With override,” the AI said: “target to left also.”

Comically, everyone looked as one first at the empty chair to Oliver’s left, then slowly over at Rich, where he sat in Reggie’s lap. Liam whistled. “Fuck, Rocky,” he said. “This game likes you guys a lot.”

This got an appreciative laugh. Reggie and Rich stared into each other’s eyes. They needed no prompting. They moved as one into a kiss so sensual, so loving, that at first they barely noticed as Rich let his tongues stretch and grow inside Reggie’s mouth. Reggie started to moan into the kiss, and Rich was making needy noises too. They each wrapped their free hands around each other’s pulsing, rigid shafts, which were apparently able to cum not only with great, possibly infinite frequency, but with what seemed like increasing intensity. They were both thinking about their next blow-job with two long, stretchy, curly tongues, and when Reggie remembered it wasn’t just his dick that he wanted Rich to lick he exploded again, bringing Rich with him as they kissed and jacked each other, cumming hard and long all over their cheeks and chests as they carried on making out like it was their life and breath.

Finally, however, they did have to break free for actual air, but Reggie chased a few more kisses against Rich’s swollen lips, and Rich obliged, more than willing to share the small kisses too. “That’s the end of the round,” he heard Brandon say.

Reggie grinned and looked over at Liam, noticing as he did so that the AI had once more disappeared. “Your turn to do the end-of-round celebration, boss!” he said. “As predicted.” He was immensely glad: he had absolutely no desire to get up, or to be in any configuration that didn’t involve Rich in his lap, naked, aroused, and, ideally, flushed from recent orgasms. Rich lowered his head back to Reggie’s oversized chest as they watched Liam stand, with false reluctance, and take the center of the circle, his sixteen-inch cock towering proudly as it stood tall and thick. Its damp head rested against his impressive pec-cleavage, which his muscle shirt showed off almost as well as nakedness would.

Liam looked around the group, first at Henry and Brandon, literally joined together since the first round after weeks of being semi-secret lovers; then at Rich and Reggie, who’d been wrapped around each other one way or another almost as long, their carnal connection getting more and more intense; then finally Karl and Oliver, who’d finally given in to the pull between them, Oliver now curled up on his giant-sized brother’s lap in imitation of Rich and Reggie. Liam favored them all with affection and chagrin. “I’m trying to decide,” he said with mock solemnity, “whether a sixteen-inch double-wide cock is adequate compensation for being left completely out in the cold next to all of you love-birds.”

“With a cock like that, you won’t be alone for long,” Henry called out.

“Hey, maybe the Avatar’s a size queen!” Oliver put in. Reggie wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. He looked pretty into the idea. “Do you think he’s a bottom?” Oliver asked the others. “All that sculpted muscle, he’s got to be a power bottom. Oh! Oh!” he added eagerly. “He’s see-through, right? So that means fucking him would be like those X-ray morphs where you can see the giant dick way inside the other guy!”

“Geez, guys, I’m not fucking the Avatar,” Liam said, deliberately sounding pathetic, like he was ruling out the “if all else fails” option.

Reggie found he could not stop grinning. “I’d invite you to join us, boss,” he said, indicating the chair he was sharing with Rich, “but you’re too big to fit!”

“He means your ego,” Rich added helpfully.

Reggie gasped, pretending to be scandalized—and the fact was that he wouldn’t have been brazen enough to say something like that to Liam, even in this egalitarian, boys’ town atmosphere. “It’s true,” Karl put in. “I’m big now, but you’re the one that’s larger than life,” he explained in his usual arch tone. “You’d swamp any relationship with normal, boring guys like us,” he added.

“So true,” Henry agreed compassionately. “Guess you’re shit out of luck in the lovin’ department, boss.”

“I’m deeply disappointed in you all,” Liam said solemnly, shaking his head. They all chuckled. He clapped his hands. “Welp,” he said, “all things considered, I think what’s appropriate here is a solo performance. I’m going to need a little support and encouragement from you sods, though!”

They all cheered and clapped and kept the noise going as Liam, pleased by the attention and clearly not at all distressed to be alone at the center of things, made a show of bending down and taking his own massive, extra-wide length into his mouth inch by inch, using his hands to stroke his chiseled, rippling torso and extra-large chest as he slowly sword-swallowed a cock easily twice as big as anything Reggie had even imagined before tonight. The guys kept up hooting and hollering, egging him on as their beautiful, contagiously arousing boss ramped up his performance, kindling sympathetic arousal in all of the rest of them. Reggie almost felt as though it was how own mighty cock that was being expertly fellated, and he could see the others were experiencing something similar, their own mounting arousal compounded by Liam’s rapidly burgeoning drive toward a truly earth-shattering release. Suddenly Reggie knew that Liam was close, because he was close, and Rich was close and the whole group was close. Then Liam abruptly drew his lips off his monster erection, leaving them all suspended in agonizing limbo.

“You know, I can wait until later to finish this—” he began. Of course this was met by a chorus of boos and shouts for him to get on with it, and Liam didn’t leave them hanging for long. With a cheeky grin he bent to bring himself off with mouth and hands, driving himself deftly toward an explosive orgasm that arrived after a solid minute of nonstop, intense stimulation and sizzling pleasure that shot through all of them as if they made a seven-man circuit of spinning, increasingly potent sexual elation. Then they all burst as one, firing off a massive collective orgasm bigger than anything any one of them had experienced all night.

Reggie fell back in the chair, holding tight onto Rich as they both shook with unimaginable pleasure, cumming like geysers, shooting release after release of hot seed all over their hot, flushed forms. Finally Liam stumbled back and almost fell into his chair, and they all relaxed utterly, boneless, sated and surfeited—except they weren’t entirely boneless, because they were all still, unaccountably and inevitably, rock-hard and ready to a man.

“Round Four,” the Avatar said.

“Round 4,” the Avatar announced. Reggie waited for him to start with Liam’s turn, but instead the transparent robo-hunk said solemnly, “For this round, the player who currently has had the most transformations will be Round Captain and will spin for an extra override. This extra override will apply to all changes in round 4.”

“The most changes,” Liam repeated thoughtfully. His eyes ranged around the group, as if to consider dispassionately which of them had been more transformed by the first three rounds of the game.

“Has to be Rocky,” Karl said. “All the overrides seem to favor him.”

“I dunno,” Henry put in. “Richie’s been keeping up with him. Remember the tongues?”

“Fuck, I remember,” Oliver said from where he remained curled in his brother’s lap. Karl kissed his cheek. They were both naked now and very hard, of course, and together they looked like chiseled exemplars of Germanic beauty—the large and the XXL versions.

Rich turned and smiled fondly at Reggie. “Well, babe?” he asked. “Who is it?”

Reggie heaved a small sigh in mock exasperation, eliciting a few chuckles from the group, though he only had eyes for his man. Rich’s smile widened slightly, just enough for tiny dimples to appear near the corners of his mouth. Reggie stared at them in wonder. How had he not noticed them before? Rich raised an eyebrow slightly, and Reggie felt his cheeks heat a little at having been so easily distracted with all eyes on him. He could tell, too, that Rich was just that little bit amused that Reggie could still feel abashed after all that had happened—which only made him blush more. He looked away, trying to collect his thoughts—only to find himself staring at the Avatar’s perfectly sculpted and very attractive butt. Squeezing his eyes shut, he forced himself to talk it through. “There’s been three rounds, but—” He though through his own changes, reciting them internally like a litany: longer cock… thicker pecs… more limber… way taller… wider fucking cock. Unexpectedly the sensual memory of each transformation rushed back at him as he brought it to mind, flooding him with such delicious arousal that his mighty cock tightened and quivered with hot desire, and he very nearly forgot what he was supposed to be figuring out. “I got two extra changes with overrides,” he said, keeping his eyes firmly shut. A few fingers suddenly began lightly caressing his long, slippery shaft, Rich clearly having decided to aggravate his difficulties rather than helping him. Reggie drew in a long, shuddering breath. He flogged his mind into focus. He had an idea Henry was right. What were Rich’s changes again? The fingers danced daintily around the head of his raging tool, delivering a seismic tremor that radiated through every bone and muscle of his body. “Cut it out,” he growled, still not daring to look at his handsome, captivating lover, and he felt more than heard the amusement wafting around the circle. Rich’s changes. Larger cock. More kissable. Two tongues. Crazy stacked up abs. Stretchy tongue… He swallowed a moan and opened his eyes. Fuck, he even smelled nice, like a well-seasoned steak. Reggie wanted to move his mouth over every inch of him—if he could prize his mouth off of Rich’s once they got going. This hot fucker with all those changes was here in his lap, his weight alone against his own enlarged body a constant comfort and stimulation. A spurt of precum shot from his cock, dousing the head and the questing fingers of his lover’s hand. Rich smiled at him, and he remembered what he’d been trying to figure out. “We’re… tied,” he said, looking right into Rich’s glinting, dark-blue eyes.

“Yeah?” he said, as if intrigued by all the ways he could have meant that.

But a sudden thought hit Reggie, derailing his distractions. “Wait!” he said excitedly. “You got an override, too! That has to be the tie-breaker!” His wide grin got a little lopsided as he said, “It’s you, Rich.”

Rich was gazing avidly into Reggie’s eyes as if there was nothing else in the universe. Reggie’s heart flipped. He wondered if it was possible to wish he could have someone as amazing as Rich look at him like that every day for the rest of his life.

Behind them, the Avatar said in his bland voice, “Spin, please.”

Rich kept staring deep into Reggie’s eyes, his fingers having stilled on Reggie’s cock several hard heartbeats ago. Reggie licked his lips and said, “You better spin, babe.” He was proud of being able to slide an edge of teasing into his words, as if he were that much more self-possessed than Rich. He started running a hand along Rich’s bare back, but soon his hand was curled around the side of Rich’s torso, holding him close against Reggie’s thick chest.

Rich looked like he, too, half wanted to forget about the game and launch a weeklong lovemaking marathon. But after a few seconds he found his virtual dice and, without taking his eyes off Reggie, performed the requisite spin. Reggie had been meaning to watch Rich’s spin closely, to see if he could figure out the markings and configurations, and whether they were any different on a special spin like this—but he found he couldn’t look away, either.

“Extra override for this round: All transformations applied twice,” the Avatar pronounced. This produced an audible gasp or two from around the circle. “The Round Captain,” continued the AI, “decides whether second application goes to the same target or to another player.”

“Gee, I wonder who he’ll drop the extra improvements on,” snarked Karl.

Rich still hadn’t looked away. “I dunno,” he said. “I kinda like him the way he is.” This time Reggie blushed for real as groans and laughter rippled around the group.

“Geez, I thought you guys were the sappy office couple,” Oliver groaned, no doubt gesturing to where Henry and Brandon were wrapping themselves around each other. “But you guys don’t hold a candle to the lovehunks here.”

Reggie and Rich both grinned widely. “Lovehunks?” they both said at the same time, and they were finally able to look away from each other to leer at Oliver. As if to compensate for not gazing into Reggie’s eyes, Rich wrapped the hand he’d been teasing Reggie with firmly around the upper end of Reggie’s extra-wide shaft. Reggie thought that hand felt pretty good there, just casually holding his turgid, eager cock, though it was nothing compared to the feeling of Rich’s hot, two-tongued mouth.

Oliver was unrepentant. “You’re hunks,” he said, shrugging his broad shoulders. “You’re loving on each other. Lovehunks.”

“What?” Reggie said, laughing incredulously.

“I have a feeling that’s going to stick,” Liam said judiciously.

“Dearly beloved,” Karl intoned, aping the somber tones of a stereotypical wedding parson, “we are gathered here to join these two lovehunks in holy matrimony.”

“You mean horny matrimony,” Oliver corrected.

“Hey,” Henry said, “we should have a softball team this summer just so their jerseys can say ‘Lovehunk #1’ and ‘Lovehunk #2’.”

Rich put up his free hand, looking around the circle of dreamily hot and transformed guys. “Okay, everybody needs to stop saying ‘lovehunk’ right now.” He was smiling, but Reggie was delighted to see that his faintly olive skin was reddening a little around his perfectly elevated cheekbones.

“Lovehunks,” Karl chanted, and the others apart from Rich and Reggie took up the words with him. “Lovehunks! Lovehunks! Lovehunks!”

“Liam’s turn,” the Avatar said.

“Lovehunks,” snuck in Karl one more time, and the others snickered.

“You’re all dicks,” Rich said, evoking a general chuckle. When he turned to Reggie, though, his eyes were alight, and Reggie stared up at him laughing, Rich’s excitement for him, for them, for the electricity of this moment kindling something deep inside the quantum fields of Reggie’s heart.

Reggie realized a new round of changes were about to come, and that some of them would affect them, increasing the amount of pleasure they could give each other. It was really only now sinking in for him that he could really be attractive to these other guys. Sure, he’d always been athletic and very fit, and had gotten plenty of admiring glances in the hallways and locker room. And there was his cocky teammate Emil. Reggie knew Emil was straight because he spent most of his time making out with a string of big-breasted girls and the rest of the time bragging about it. Then one day Emil caught him helplessly boning up under his towel from scoping out his very nicely muscled buddy after getting out of the showers, Emil having gone on a muscle-building kick over the summer and acquired god-like pecs, shoulders, and arms. Reggie had been terrified Emil would get mad and want to stop being his friend, but instead he’d pulled Reggie into the empty mat room and all but demanded Reggie let Emil suck down Reggie’s even-then-oversized cock. That became the start of a regular weekly thing, Emil eagerly blowing him with increasing proficiency, while simultaneously crafting his body through hours at the gym into something seemingly designed to make Reggie bone up the minute he caught sight of Emil’s straining tee-shirt and his salacious, pirate grin. Reggie, though, had put all that down to raging hormones. His dick needed attention and Emil wanted to give it.

Here, though, Reggie wasn’t just hot—the game was forcing him to become hotter, in ways he couldn’t even know in advance. Each change was pumping him full of raw, masculine allure, and jacking up his own arousal to boot. The progression was intoxicating all on its own. He couldn’t wait to feel himself changing, growing, becoming more, all with the rush of aching need for the physical stimulation Rich was promising with every look and every touch.

And, on top of that, the changes in this round revolved around Rich—he would decide who got extra helpings of the wild transformations that had already stimulated so many dreams and desired Reggie hadn’t known he’d had. The changes were heart-thuddingly amazing, but it was more than that—it was like every change made him want to share pleasure with Rich more and more, the sensation intensifying the more he was transformed, and Reggie found himself wanting to keep being augmented, to feel what it felt like to have his need piled higher and higher, beyond anything even approaching normal—and to know the exact same thing was happening to Rich. The grip Rich had around his cock tightened, and Reggie couldn’t help imagining the two of them growing bigger, more arousing, more insatiable, more blindly desperate for each other, both beyond human, beyond normal in love and lust and need. Scenes of constant, overbearing passion flitted through his mind. Making out in Reggie’s bedroom. Rich going down on him in the middle of the soccer field—then letting Reggie return the favor. Bundling into the supply room, Reggie’s ass twitching for Rich’s—

The Avatar spoke up suddenly, Liam apparently having spun while Reggie was distracted. “Richard’s cock transformed,” it said. “50% longer, with override: only target with smallest cock.”

Reggie gasped, almost feeling the thrust of Rich’s expanding cock shoving into his ass, before the override sank in. Suppressing his disappointment, he grinned and looked over at Karl. “Still you, Tiny,” he taunted.

The green-eyed, lanky, eight-foot-tall CFO with the dirty mind shook his head. “This has got to be the only room in the world where the guy with ten inches is treated like God was a cruel bastard to him,” he said. Then he brightened, and added, “But all that’s about to change.”

They all watched as Karl’s long ten-incher suddenly started to swell upwards against his taut, pale abs, topping out an extra five inches longer. “Fifteen inches,” Reggie murmured distractedly. Even as he watched, Oliver slid gracefully to his knees between Karl’s knees and took the now extra-long pole deep into his mouth. Karl gasped and closed his eyes, as if trying to hold back an instant orgasm.

There was a moment of suspense then, with all the circle seemingly poised in anticipation. Reggie had forgotten all about the round captain thing and additional application of the change that went with it, until Rich spoke up abruptly and said, “The extra transformation… also goes to Karl!”

“Nice,” Liam said.

Karl and Oliver both moaned audibly as Karl’s dick started lengthening even further shoving inch by inch into Oliver’s throat. “Oh… oh… oh, fuck,” Karl burst out, as his cock pushed itself to a total length of over twenty-two long inches. Oliver swallowed as much as he could and used his hands on the rest of the shaft, and in moments they were both cumming hard, Oliver spraying spunk onto his hard, defined chest as he fought to swallow Karl’s spunk, though a good amount of it leaked around his full lips and down Karl’s elongated shaft. Rich gripped Reggie’s dick firmly, a promise of even more satisfying release soon to come.

“Oh, geez,” Reggie whispered, so turned on from the scene and the anticipation that he was at a loss for words.

“Henry’s turn,” the Avatar said.

“Oh, are we… even still here?” Brandon joked to his own lover from a few feet away. He sounded a little breathless, and Reggie reluctantly pulled his eyes away from Rich’s handsome, kissable face to confirm that yes, Nude Brandon—no longer the only nude guy, but always looking like he’d never wear clothes again—was still impaled on Henry’s huge monster of a cock. In fact Brandon was fountaining constant bursts of precum as he wiggled and writhed on Henry’s pleasure-spike. His brow and bangs were slightly damp with sweat, and as he looked Brandon’s eyes closed as simple, all-encompassing bliss seemed to wash through him. It looked a little like Brandon was experiencing a constant, low-grade orgasm or near-orgasm from having Henry inside him and wrapped around him.

Henry, looking ruddy and as randy as his libido-augmented boyfriend, grinned. “What, Bran, can’t you tell?” he asked, giving his hips a sudden upward shove that caused Brandon to grunt with pleasure. “That’s what I thought.”

Henry spun for himself, and the Avatar announced the change to the group. “Henry’s cock transformed: quantity plus two, all 25% longer.” This pronouncement caused a round of gasps, and Brandon’s eyes widened before he shut them, his lips sporting a hopeful smile. The AI continued, thought, with the override: “Only shortest target.”

There was a comical moment as they all looked around at each other in confusion and attempted assessment of relative height… before, inevitably, all eyes devolved on Reggie. Rich laughed. “Are you joking?” Reggie said. He’d been watching Brandon’s pleasure and imagining the faces Rich would make as he lowered his tight, round ass onto Reggie’s waiting cock, so it took him a second to switch gears back to team scorekeeper. “It’s, uh, Liam,” he said after a moment. “Still 5’11”.”

“Fuck, seriously?” Liam said, glancing down at his towering, width-augmented sixteen-incher, then around at the group. They were all grinning at him, including Oliver, who’d climbed back into his much bigger brother’s lap looking sex drunk, his chest, abs, and chin still thick with his own spunk. Like Rich he had a hand clasped firmly around Karl’s rigid pole of a cock. “So the one guy whose cock is being completely ignored is getting even more cock to be ignored?” he asked.

“Payback for turning us on with how hot you are,” Karl said boldly. Reggie wanted to second that thought, but he was still afraid to acknowledge just how horny Liam had made him when the game first started (and well before that, of course). But Rich gave him a knowing glance before reaching up to kiss him firmly, though only giving him the tips of his stretchy tongues to taste. Reggie whined very slightly in the back of his throat, and Rich grinned as he turned away. They watched as Liam’s extra-thick cock rose up rapidly in height, pushing past his firm, hard pecs, while expanding even more in width before suddenly jumping apart into three quivering twenty-inch cocks. “Oh, oh god! Oh, fuck!” Liam shouted, unexpectedly losing his composure. Hurriedly he bent and shoved his mouth down over the middle of the three cocks (it was slightly behind the others now, like the two new ones had emerged to protect it) even as he started blasting his release, hurling jet after jet of spend down his throat and flying out of his remaining dicks, soaking his shoulders and splatting in puddles on the floor behind him. The whole time he made no effort to touch himself, his hands remaining clamped on the arms of his chair the whole time as he struggled to swallow the continuous gushers of hot cum erupting from three red, shuddering cocks that were each wider and thicker than any cock Reggie had ever seen before and close to twice as long.

Liam erupting with sudden, unstoppable please sent a wave of arousal cascading around the circle, stiffening already hard cocks and filling all of them with intense pleasure. Brandon was the first to succumb to the chain reaction, collapsing through the edge into intense orgasm as he threw his head back onto Henry’s shoulder. Henry followed immediately, thrusting up into his boyfriend as they started cumming together, Henry releasing massive amounts of cum inside Brandon even as Brandon painted his torso with incredible amounts of jizz. Karl and Oliver started moaning, though their noises were quickly snuffed in a ferocious kiss. Feeling it start to hit him and Rich, Reggie leaned down to do the same, wanting desperately to be kissing Rich’s kissable face and to have his mouth wrapped around his long, stretchy tongues when he came, but before he could cover Rich’s mouth with his Rich called out, “The extra transformation goes to Reggie!”

Reggie froze, staring into Rich’s lust-dark eyes in shock, but Rich reached up and pulled them into a hard kiss that Reggie deepened instantly, opening for Rich without hesitation as the tidal wave caught him up and threw him into a tumultuous, earth-shaking orgasm that tore through his entire body before erupting with endless, skyrocketing pleasure in three separate mind-wrenching orgasms. He would have screamed if he hadn’t been making out with Rich for all he was worth, sharing Rich’s incredible tongues with him, feeling Rich’s sweet weight against him, his hand squeezing Reggie’s neck while the other, having regained its grip after his grip had been forced open from the sudden expansion of Reggie’s girth, held fast to his spunk-slathered middle cock, his warmth and strength communicating Rich’s desire right down Reggie’s shaft into his balls and somehow spiking Reggie’s orgasms even higher into the stratosphere. They kept up the kiss, reveling in their shared release (Rich had started cumming the second he’d felt Reggie starting to erupt), and broke apart only the barest inch to catch their breath, panting hard, before diving into their soul-twining kiss again as soon as they could manage.

“Geez, guys,” Reggie heard Liam say faintly from across the circle, as their kiss slowed and became more languid and sensual. “Just seeing you guys lose it was actually hotter than blowing my own load!” The smell of spunk filled the room, but Liam’s seemed somehow more intense, as if it were calling out to the others, inciting their constant arousal to new levels. Reggie ignored this and focused on his tender make-out with Rich, which he could tell from the rapt attention of the room was providing a compelling denouement to the brief but spectacular show they’d just put on.

“Tell me why we aren’t filming this?” Oliver huffed breathily into the silence.

“Fuck!” Karl erupted, aggrieved. He sounded just as short of breath as his brother, though Reggie hadn’t seen exactly what they’d been doing to produce such a state (not that it needed much imagination). “Now you… (pant)… say it! We… (pant)… could have been filming this… (pant)… whole time!”

“No filming of Body Game events is possible,” the Avatar interposed blandly, a policy announcement obviously triggered by Karl’s statement.

“Of course,” Karl said, deflated. “Well, seeing it on video… (pant)… saps away the intensity of memories, anyway.”

“Says you,” Oliver said. “Wait, did he mean ‘possible’ in the sense of ‘allowed’, or—?”

Reggie tuned the discussion out, having barely registered what the others were saying as he held Rich close to him. He broke his kiss with Rich and pressed their damp foreheads together, their eyes meeting in frank and mutual need. Their breathing was still heavy, though slowed, and as they stared into each other’s eyes their breaths synchronized, slow and steady. “Thanks… captain,” he said. He felt he ought to express his gratitude for his three unstoppable eighteen-inchers, as stiff and hot and eager to go now as they had been five minutes before, despite being covered in the evidence of their own release just seconds before. His balls should be aching, he knew, but they felt full to overflowing as if he’d not cum at all, as if this body were brand new and had never released its growing oversupply of constantly accumulating seed. Rich winked at him, then gave him a single, soft kiss on the lips.

“Brandon’s turn,” the Avatar said. Reluctantly they all turned their attention to the clothes-averse designer. Brandon had recovered from his and Henry’s own eruptions enough for him to spin his virtual dice with gusto, grinning over at his boss in anticipation of yet another round of changes on top of the ones that had produced such an unexpected and dramatic effect Henry’s turn a few moments before. “Liam’s pecs transformed: always bigger than anyone else’s.”

There were murmurs of approval at this, and Karl said, “Hopefully they mean just out of us!”

“Fuck, can you imagine?” Oliver said.

Then came the kicker. “With override,” the Avatar continued: “plus last change.”

“No! No way!” laughed Liam. “It’s kill me! I’m going to die of manifold orgasm and go to CEO heaven!”

“Get ready, boss,” Henry goaded. “You’re going to be randier than all of us put together.”

“I know what’s going on,” Brandon added. “He’s just trying to get us to take care of him instead of each other. He won’t stop until he has one for each of us!”

“Oh gods, it’s starting,” Liam said, as his cum-drenched chest started to inflate, his cocks sliding slowly up them. He fixed Rich with a mock glare. “If you give me the extra transformation too, you’re fired!” he said, sounding almost like he meant it. Reggie wondered for the first time if the way Liam’s horniness was both ramped up and infectious meant he experienced orgasm more intensely than the rest of them did. Maybe, if the game went on long enough, he’d find out for himself.

Liam’s heavy, powerful pecs were already swollen to a point larger than Reggie’s—not too great a change as both Liam and Reggie had had their pecs augmented early in the game, and Liam had already been exquisitely built—though Reggie had been pretty proud of his defined, gym-thickened chest beforehand, and his pecs had gotten proportionately bigger when he’d become a nine-foot-tall giant. Liam’s chest kept growing a little further, though. What was really impressive was the way Liam’s cocks seemed to rear up, climbing toward Liam’s face to attain a truly incredible 25 inches of near liter-bottle-thick cock, accompanied by another wave of euphoric stimulation surging through the entire group as if all of them were wired into Liam’s pleasure centers. The expansion seemed to be happening faster now, and the two cocks that had shifted slightly in front suddenly began widening rapidly even as they were still pushing toward their new size. Reggie was put in mind of obsessive bodybuilders whose backs looked deceptively narrow until they flexed and spread their wingspan, unfolding massive lats. In seconds the two front cocks were both sliding apart into twins, giving Liam an all new cluster of five uber-sensitive newborn cocks that topped out right in his face, all of them already coated with a constant flow of pre that was very obviously about to give way to a stunning fivefold orgasm.

Hunkering close to Reggie as if preparing for the onslaught of a storm, Rich suddenly called out, “The extra transformation goes to… all targets with fewer than five cocks!”

“Holy shit!” Reggie blurted, already feeling the onrush of Liam’s verging multiorgasm. “Can you do that?” he asked in sheer wonderment.

Rich turned wide eyes and a ferocious grin on him. “We’ll see!” he said. Reggie could only marvel that he had ever thought this man was mild-mannered before Rich and Reggie both rushed instinctively to mash their lips together in a searing, heart-stopping kiss. Time seemed to drop away, along with the room and the other players. His pulse thumped in his ears, drowning out all noises. Even the seismic transformations of their bodies feel away, their expanding pecs and swelling, dividing cocks subsumed in the feel and weight of Rich’s beloved form, his warm, strong body pressed against him with Reggie’s arms wrapped tight around him, and most of all their mouths moving together as Rich’s tongues stretched around Reggie’s. He tasted Rich’s mouth and drew in his distinctive fragrant scent, feeling the gusts of breath from their noses mingling as they dove deeper into the kiss. Liam’s orgasms swept through them, triggering a chain-reaction in Reggie’s body and Rich’s too—he could feel Rich’s multiple release building as much as his own, and they burst together, shooting hard with gushers of cum erupting from cock after cock as white ecstasy wiped out their augmented bodies and melted their minds. They huffed together, mouths close, not even aware of having broken apart, though Rich’s tongues were partly lolling out of his mouth as he again pressed his forehead to Reggie’s, the two of them clinging to each other as if their adirondack chair were adrift at sea in a slowly abating storm rather than firmly grounded in a forgotten store in the back of an abandoned mall.

“That,” Reggie said between ragged breaths, “is going to be a hard kiss to live up to.” Rich laughed, and Reggie loved the feel of it on his face and tender, swollen lips as he did so.

“Hey, Rich?” called a distressed sounding voice from their right. “Rich, buddy? Pal?”

Reggie and Rich both looked over to the other side of the circle, taking in the effects of the last transformation. All seven of them were now sporting massive, shelf-like pecs—most of them looking disproportionately huge coupled with physiques better defined as lightly muscular for a few or fit and defined for others (the newly huge pecs Brandon was sporting looked particularly striking over his carved ten-pack abs). All of them were covered in spunk, even more so than they had been already, not least the three towering erections most of them were sporting (Reggie and Liam now both had five). The one trying to get Rich’s attention was Brandon, and Reggie’s heart started to speed up again as he immediately grasped the problem.

“You want to give a guy—unh—a little warning next time?” he pleaded, shifting his weight and wincing slightly as he squirmed his long torso and shifted his weight on what were now Henry’s three massive spikes shoved deep into Brandon’s ass. His own cum-covered triplicate sixteen-inchers were so hard they barely even moved as Brandon shifted around.

“Oh god! Oh god!” Rich said, his confidence and animal libido falling away as he sat up in Reggie’s lap, looking distressed. “Jesus! I—I didn’t mean to!”

“Brandon, are you okay? Are you all right?” Reggie said, overlapping Liam and Karl asking the same thing. Oliver stared in horror, and Henry had his mouth pressed against Brandon’s neck as he comforted him, mouthing Brandon’s skin and murmuring gentle words, his brow creased and his eyes full of concern.

“I’m so sorry! I totally wasn’t thinking, I forgot! Oh god—!” Rich babbled.

“It’s okay,” Brandon said, raising a hand placatingly. “It’s okay.” He breathed deeply a few times. “I just—wasn’t expecting it. It’s actually…” He fell back easily against Henry, his newly swole ultra-thick chest heaving, damp with sweat and cum. “It’s actually… fuck, guys, it actually feels pretty amazing,” he managed at last.

“You sure?” Henry said softly, and with infinite care, his lips close to Brandon’s ear. “I could—”

“Don’t you dare pull out,” Brandon warned, and his lips finally spread wide into a grin. “Don’t you fucking ever pull out.” Henry smiled. Reggie saw that Henry was holding Brandon with hands that had gained another finger each, the last installment of the extra-fingers transformation that had had extended to the next two rounds as well, for a very sexy seven fingers and a thumb.

There was a pause, and Reggie listened to the way all of them were breathing a little hard from the exertions they’d just experienced. “I think the game probably is designed not to hurt us,” Liam said after a moment.

“What, so the game gave Brandon’s ass a capacity boost when it saw what was about to go down with Henry’s junk?” Karl asked. Reggie saw that Karl had returned his gaze to his own lap, but what he was admiring was not his personal equipment despite their having been blown up to a colossal 28 inches, as Reggie quickly calculated) but rather his hot brother’s trio of fat, tight-packed-sausage cocks that now stood at half the length of Karl’s, at close to fourteen and a half inches tall each. For the moment he was drinking them in just with his eyes, but only because he seemed to mapping out his plan of attack. It hadn’t quite hit Reggie yet even that he had more than one cock, much less that his recent upgrade to three had suddenly and unexpectedly been bonus-rounded to an unbelievable five. He could feel them, hot and slick with cum, tingling with recently released pleasure, jostling each other rudely like a bunch of randy, wide-shouldered jocks goofing around in a crowded elevator.

“Pretty much, I think,” Liam said smiling. “Is that what it feels like, Brandon?”

“Can’t talk now,” Brandon said, sounding like he was giving in to the unique ecstasy of three massive cocks shoved into his tight ass. His eyes looked ready to roll back in his head as leaned against his lover. “Ask again later.” The others chuckled. Reggie pulled Rich back against him, and he rested his head against Reggie’s ponderous, six-inch-thick chest.

“Reginald’s turn,” the Avatar said. Reggie freed a hand and gave his virtual dice a hard spin, and the Avatar read, “Karl’s toes transformed: quantity, plus two per foot; with override: target to right also.”

“Nice,” Karl said, and Oliver peered over Karl’s knees with interest, lower lip between his teeth as he watched for Karl’s toes to start expanding and multiplying, his feet probably widening a just enough to accommodate the new digits the way Henry’s hands had done. Reggie, meanwhile, was distracted by the way everyone apart from Liam was now coupled off, and it took him a second to realize that he was the player to Karl’s right. He looked up in time to catch Liam’s eye, and Liam winked at him.

Reggie was just glad to have this turn as a kind of breather, after the tumultuous changes of the last couple plays. In fact he didn’t even really register the sensation of transitioning from ten toes to fourteen, as Rich distracted him with the announcement, “The extra transformation goes to Henry!”

Reggie nodded. “Makes sense,” he said. They all looked over to Henry’s chair next to Liam. A wide smile had bloomed on Brandon’s face, though Henry himself seemed absorbed by making Brandon feel good with his lips and his eight-digit hands. As Reggie watched, Henry’s toes did indeed start to shift, the multiplicity to seven toes per foot seeming to come from all of them rather than two splitting in twain the way their cocks had done. Reggie wiggled his own toes—wow, that felt pretty awesome. He wondered if he or Rich might still get the extra fingers they’d been thinking about since Henry had gotten that boon toward the start of the game.

“Karl’s turn,” the Avatar said, and Karl paused his tactile exploration of Oliver’s cocks to spin, still avoiding his own monumental erections. “Brandon’s arms transformed,” the AI said: “50% more strong; with override: plus target’s first received change.”

Oliver’s eyes widened. “Fuck, lots of toes all around,” Reggie said. As they watched, Brandon’s honey-skinned, nicely muscled arms seemed to shift and thicken, though they didn’t seem to get bigger so much as denser. Henry began stroking and squeezing Brandon’s arms with approval, and Brandon rolled his head and murmured something about looking forward to squeezing Henry’s iron-hard cocks in a whole new way. Reggie straggled to remember Brandon’s very first change—then watched in awe as Brandon’s whole long, lithe body started to grow taller and bigger, as Brandon became another 15% taller and lankier—now approaching super-lanky as he topped out in Henry’s lap at 7’3” of endless, beautiful amber-skinned man.

“Fuck, yeah,” Henry said, slowly and with intense appreciation.

This time Reggie looked at Rich in time for him to say, “The extra transformation goes to…” He turned his tinkling dark blue eyes on his nine-foot lover and said, “Reggie.”

“You want to get squeezed, too, is that it?” He felt his arms tingle and start to shift, feeling it especially his biceps and triceps but in his forearms too, and even a little in his delts. Vigor and power seemed to surge in him, and he felt not only stronger but energized. Almost automatically he lifted his arms in a double-biceps pose, Rich watching him avidly, that twinkle having become a wicked gleam. He waited to feel the new height, wondering what it would feel like to be a giant in double-digits height-wise… but that wasn’t what happened. Reggie and Rich started at each other with dawning comprehension. Reggie lowered his cock double-bi pose as the realization hit.

“Not Brandon’s first change—” Rich began.

“—My first change,” Reggie finished.

They both looked down at Reggie’s five cocks as they began to grow longer, and longer, shoving up out of Reggie’s groin with eager growth. For a second Reggie was afraid they would just keep going, never stopping, until his hardons occupied the store, then the mall, then the universe—but before his thoughts could run away with him too far they stopped at another twenty percent, flexing and pumping precum almost in his face as they reached and uncanny 27-plus inches.

“Oh, Reggie,” Rich moaned. He started stroking the soaring erections with one hand, but then he maneuvered the back-middle one toward Reggie’s mouth. Reggie knew that if he were still his old height of six and a half feet tall there was no way he’d be able to get a 27-inch dick in his mouth; as it was Rich had to guide Reggie’s head down onto the enormous erection with a little pressure from his other hand. He wrapped his lips around the head and swirled his tongue experimentally, shivering as waves of raw, potent pleasure rushed through him at the simplest touch of his tongue to his fat, cummy cockhead. The other cocks crowded around his face, brushing against a jaw and lips he now realized were a little bristly—he hadn’t shaved since that morning. He kept his eyes firmly joined with Rich’s as he licked his own cock, Rich seeming to get as much pleasure from it as he did.

He barely noticed as the Avatar announced Oliver’s turn, and only focused on what was happening in the group as he remembered that he was Oliver’s target. Even as he looked up, the AI made his pronouncement. “Reginald’s cum transformed: 75% more amount.” Reggie gasped—so much cum, and five times over! But then came the rest. “With override,” the AI went on: “half amount of change.”

Reggie breathed a sigh of relief, and Rich laughed. “What do you think?” Rich asked. “I can give it all back to you if you want.”

“I don’t think so,” Reggie said, grinning. “Why don’t you take it for yourself if you want that much jizz?”

To Reggie’s surprise, Rich raised his eyebrows and then smiled wider, causing those newfound faint dimples to appear again. “I like your thinking.” Raising his voice he said, “The extra transformation goes to me!”

Of course nothing happened—though they were all rock-hard and stirred to intense arousal, he and Rich had only just blasted through multiple orgasms mere moments before. “I can’t wait to see how it turns out,” he said.

“It’s a good change to get early in the game,” Liam commented from across the circle, “I’ve heard that sometimes your cum gets changed in this game…” He let his words trail off suggestively.

Reggie glanced up at his magnetically gorgeous boss who nonetheless was firmly no longer his type, if only because Reggie now had a type of one. “What do you mean?” he asked. Liam only shrugged.

“So Rocky’s jizz could end up doing stuff to whoever gets it in ’em?” Henry asked, pausing from his ministrations to the newly grown, excitingly lanky body of his pleasure-drunk, half-aware lover. But Liam just shrugged again.

“You know, boss,” Karl commented playfully, “you’re being pretty coy about just how much you know about all this…”

“I just read the brochures and clicked on ‘Place order’,” Liam said innocently, though with a tone of voice that hinted he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Uh huh,” Karl said.

It was now time for Rich to take his turn—the final turn of what Reggie now remembered was only round four of this event. Liam’s comment that it was still “early in the game” had seemed bizarre to Reggie after all the changes they’d gone through, but the Avatar had told them there were ten rounds at the very beginning. That meant there were still six rounds of transformation still to go. Would they get even stranger—or even more intense? Would some of his favorite transformations on himself and Rich get taken away? Suddenly Reggie felt an urge to call a stop to the game here and now, and just walk away… and, what, live as a nine-foot-tall giant with a cluster of two-foot monster cocks? Reggie frowned. Something had to happen to either reverse all of this (which seemed in that moment like a terrible prospect, at least when it came to his favorite change, Rich’s tongues), or to make it possible to live your life with the changes you’d gotten. And that probably only happened once the game had been successfully completed. If the thing were aborted, or they just got up and walked away—

Then Reggie thought about how many amazing things had happened to them in this round alone. Each change, all by itself, felt good, like a rush, even apart from the actual compound orgasms he’d experienced. Something inside him liked that.

Something inside him wanted to be changed, over and over again. And for Rich to be changed too. He hoped that want, that desire, didn’t get any stronger than it already was.

As Reggie was thinking through his conflicted feelings, Rich was spinning for his turn. “Oliver’s balls transformed: 50% bigger,” the AI said, “with override: plus last change.”

Karl’s thoughts must have been running along similar lines to Reggie’s, because he said, “Oh, Ol, you hot thing, I hope we get to keep some o’ these.”

“You realize what the last change was, right?” Oliver said.

Karl grinned wolfishly at him. “Fuck yes.” As if observing the ceremonial final turn in the round, the whole circle watched jubilantly as Oliver’s already impressive balls swelled visibly, though even at half again their previous size, and knowing they’d produce a lot more cum than they were already doing, they still looked dwarfed by Oliver’s fourteen-inchers—not to mention the close proximity of Karl’s whoppers, which were towering at twice that size. Like Reggie’s, they were enormous even against Karl’s grown-huge 8’3” frame.

Attention turned from Oliver to Liam, and he seemed to be about to make yet another jocular announcement about the end-of-round “performance”—and Reggie was already devoting the part of his brain that could still think lucidly to the question of which of them had more cock, and how many ways that could be calculated. Even as Liam was drawing breath, though, the Avatar suddenly spoke again—and placed a wholly different kind of capper on the round.

“The Round Captain will now receive an additional change,” it said blandly, its eerily perfect muscle body and classically handsome visage turning toward Rich. Reggie and Rich exchanged looks, and Reggie’s heart started pounding hard. “It will be pronounced,” the Avatar went on, “by Liam.”

Singling Liam out surprised Reggie, and for a second he wondered if Liam had been chosen at random, or because he was the boss or as the purchaser and coordinator of the night’s events; but then the answer became obvious: Liam was the player who had drawn Rich as his target from the beginning.

The AI had turned back toward Liam. “Please state your change,” it said. “You may choose any single change that has occurred so far in the game.”

Liam’s brows had climbed high up his forehead. He blinked at the Avatar, then turned his gaze straight to Reggie. “Well, Rocky,” he asked, “what’ll it be?”

Reggie didn’t even have to think. Grinning broadly he raised his left hand up, the back of the hand facing Liam, and slowly wiggled his fingers.

Liam’s eyes lit, but in that moment Rich’s handsome, precious face filled Reggie’s vision, his dark eyes filled with love and desperate need, and within seconds they were immersed in a heartfelt, soul-merging kiss. The sounds and movements of the room fell away, and he didn’t even hear Liam call for the change… but he sure felt it, as Rich began gently and unhurriedly stroking all of Reggie’s touch-hungry cocks toward what felt like it would be an infinite orgasm.

A phone was ringing.

Reggie blinked slowly. The world around him came into focus in a strange, languid fashion, like the colors were separating and coalescing out of long, infinite stretches of brights and darks. An office seemed to solidify around him. Walls in gentle yellow. Muted chocolate carpeting and diffused fluorescent lights mixing with warm, clean daylight from wall-wide windows looking out on green lawns and trees waving in a gentle breeze. An open workspace ringed with spacious white desks and large, dark-framed monitors, the Adonis Web Solutions logo drifting across each of them. He was standing by one of those desks, the monitor showing the same wandering logo, the phone beside it ringing in rude defiance of the soft silence all around him.

The expanse was familiar and yet alien, and Reggie realized one reason it seemed so strange was that he was alone. There was no sign of anyone else around. The surface of every desk was empty apart from keyboard, mouse, monitor, and phone, not even a reminder sticky about a current account or an upcoming dentist appointment in sight. The chairs were all pushed in, the carpet freshly vacuumed. It was like the AWS offices weren’t the headquarters for an active, vibrant business but were instead a kind of limbo, their vibrancy suspended, waiting for something Reggie couldn’t imagine. Normality lay poised, hovering in endless stasis.

At some point while Reggie had been surfacing into this world the phone on his desk had fallen silent, but now it started up again. His eyes drifted to the phone on his own desk. The red indicator for his extension was blinking insistently, for some reason drawing his attention more than the desk phone’s jarring default ringtone was. He reached for the handset, his mind warning him he’d have to correct for his new giant size and the longer-than-expected arms that went with him. But the dark-blue dress-shirt sleeve that came into view as he stretched out his hand wasn’t a nine-foot-tall giant’s arm—in fact, he was pretty sure it was his own usual, normal, mundane arm, the arm he had been used to having as a six-foot-six soccer jock, the cuffs of the tall-fit shirt sleeves pulling pack from his hands just enough to expose the beginnings of ginger-dusted wrists he was very familiar with.

Reggie looked down at himself, frowning slightly. He was wearing his favorite vivid cobalt-blue and the midnight-blue tie he often wore with it, the baggy charcoal trousers that hugged his butt and hid his oversized hard-on better than most, and the dark brown leather ankle boots he passed off as dress shoes. None of it showed any sign of all the changes that had been wreaked on his body, not the startling increase in size that had ratcheted him all the way up to just over nine feet tall, not the massive, out-of-proportion pecs, not the strength-upgraded arms, and most especially not the five hugified, multiple 27-inch steel-hard cocks, all of which were now so intrinsic to his being that this, the body he’d grown into and lived his life in for his entire time on earth, felt uncomfortably false and wrong.

And yet—

His cock was hard, and that was certainly something he was both accustomed to and relieved to feel as a continuity to his true form. But the true form was… there, somehow, only—suppressed? Hidden but maybe potentially accessible, like it was physically just slightly out of phase with this reality, and all he had to do was tilt his perspective and see things in a different way. He could see, from the way his dark dress shirt rested across the firm curves of his ordinary teen-jock pecs, that his chest was they way it had been before; only his true chest, the chest that had grown and been expanded, both thickened and enlarged beyond the measure of any of his fellow circle-mates, was there somehow too, buried beneath a layer of mundane reality. It was like he could sense the potency of it, the impressive strength and power and size lying latent within and beneath, alive and pulsing, waiting for him to find it and bring it forth.

And now that he was aware of it, that sense of submerged but present power was even more in force with the rigid erection that lay throbbing along his hip. He remembered the constant erections he’d been teased for by his smiling coworkers, like the one he had now. Mostly they came from the boiling hormones of an active eighteen-year-old athlete, but there had also been this weird circular feedback loop over the last few months where he’d been getting riled up just by how huge his cock was feeling when it blew up to its full, massive, total-erection state, and the bizarre, inexplicable sense that getting so incredibly hard stretched and strained his erections so much that they actually got the tiniest bit bigger each and every time—which only turned him on more, forcing more and more erections until he was hard practically all the time and trying hard not to think about each muscle-straining, skin-stretching boner was making him even bigger and even more incapable of turning off his self-feeding arousal. He’d actually broken down and measured himself a few weeks back, truly astonished at how he’d topped out the ruler at nearly a foot long (he’d assumed the Avatar had been rounding up when he’d pronounced him a solid twelve inches—or had he?). He’d never measured himself before, though, so he couldn’t verify the nagging sense that his low-grade recurring fantasy about his straining, incrementally stretching super-hard erections might actually have had some basis in reality.

The boner he had now felt like the one had had all the time before: massive, easily a foot long, as unmovable as steel and as hot and eager as the most primal male desire ever known. But there was another set of sensations, something deeper and beneath what he could see and feel in his heated crotch, and those sensations told of five even harder cocks, red and warm with gigantic arousal, quivering with need, each rigid tool in the tight, overlapping, pre-slick cluster swollen to beyond twice as big as his previously accustomed randy, fat, footlong rod. He could feel the heat and urgency radiating from them. They were there, like his pecs, like his giant body, just below the mundane surface of this strangely counterfeit normality.

His arm was still extended. In fact the phone he had started reaching for was still ringing, intruding on his confused thoughts and the swelling arousal in his balls and coursing through his blood. He coiled his fingers around the handset and lifted it to his ear, finally bringing an end to the ringing that was just about the only sound in the strangely empty office.

“Adonis Web Solutions,” he answered distractedly. He checked the phone’s little display screen, but it just read UNKNOWN CALLER. “Rock—er, Reggie speaking.”

“Rocky!” boomed Liam’s voice. A flood of arousal washed through him—he would never not be turned on by his insanely attractive, bright-eyed boss. “Where are you, man?” the CEO said. He sounded boisterous and happy. “We need you!”

Reggie lifted his eyes to the glassed-in executive office beyond the open workspace around which most of the other desks were situated, but his boss wasn’t there. Of course he wasn’t—he already knew he was the only one here, and anyway it was clear from the sound of the connection that Liam was on his mobile, possibly outdoors. Indistinguishable sounds that were probably other people talking and laughing came across the line.

“I’m—er, at the office,” he said, feeling slightly chagrined somehow, as if it were strange that he should be here and not whatever fun place Liam and probably the rest of them were at.

Liam seemed to feel the same way. “What are you doing there?” he laughed. “C’mon, we’re having a pool party and we need our—”

“Hey, is that Rocky?” another voice intruded, sounding a few feet distant from the phone. A moment later the voice was speaking directly in his ear, like whoever it was had grabbed for Liam’s mobile as soon as he’d found out Reggie was on the line. “Rocky! Buddy, you totally have to join us,” the voice said.

“Karl?” Reggie guessed. He wasn’t completely sure—Karl seemed a little tipsy, and so was even more exuberant than usual.

“‘Course it is,” Karl affirmed. “C’mon, you have to come over.” Then the handsome, playful CFO lowered his voice and added confidentially, “Lovehunk #2 really misses you…” Reggie could hear the smile in his voice, as if he were smugly certain that this would be the lure that would draw Reggie to them.

At the mention of Rich’s name everything else receded for Reggie. His mind filled with Rich’s beautiful face, those piercing dark-blue eyes, that necessary mouth… most of all that unbreakable sense of connection that made him suddenly ache for a man he should never have been apart from. “Rich?” he said, as much voicing the name to himself as he was responding to Karl.

The scene shifted, and he was no longer standing in the suspended AWS offices. He was outside, squinting under brilliant sunshine and cloudless, vivid blue skies as he looked out over a rooftop garden dominated by a nearly Olympic-sized pool, its azure waters seeming to want to compete with the vast cerulean sky. They were high up enough for the wind to dance around them and the other buildings to seem dwarfed and inconsequential, the streets and people far below so distant as to be forgotten. The air was clean, the tang of chlorine mixing with the smell of barbecued meat and liberally applied sunscreen.

Around the pool, lounging in chaises or sitting on the edge kicking their feet in the water or submerged and idly treading water, were his game-night compatriots. They were mostly in jams-style swim trunks and Speedos, showing off hard bodies and tans that made it seem like they’d been here for days—the only exception being Henry’s perfect, pale alabaster skin, as always looking like incorruptible white marble even down to his close-cropped platinum hair. He was the one in the pool, grinning up at his Pacific Islander boyfriend where he sat on the cement verge with his feet and lower legs paddling gently in the water, his darker, sun-warmed skin making a pleasing contrast to Henry’s pale expanse.

Liam looked up abruptly from where he was tending a large barbecue on the far side of the pool, at the far end of a long expanse of grass and close by the verdant, carefully squared-off hedges that marked the edge of the garden and the steel railings beyond. “Rocky!” he called excitedly, the white of his wicked, alluring smile and the blue of his eyes under dark, wryly curved eyebrows visible even across the length of the pool. He lifted a hand in welcome. Reggie found he still hand his hand close to his ear, except now it no longer contained a phone handset; so he just opened it up and waved back at Liam. He realized that his blue and charcoal business attire was gone and that he, too, was wearing old-fashioned swim trunks and nothing else, his wavy ginger hair brushing tentatively along his shoulders as he moved, the wind not quite strong enough to move it about. His cock was still hard, flexing impatiently at his hip as if it might try working its way up past the waistband the moment Reggie wasn’t paying attention.

Liam went back to nudging meat around on the grill. Reggie let his gaze rake back over the distance between them, searching for what he hoped most to see. Near where he’d spotted Henry and Brandon he found Karl and Oliver. They were relaxing in adjacent chaises, both wearing red Speedos and smoky sunglasses, and they were engaged in some jocular conversation before looking up, like Henry and Brandon, once Liam’s greeting alerted them to Reggie’s presence. They were all shaped normally, the way they had been before, and yet there was a radiance to each and every one of them, the nagging sense of something else about them. Something seemed to be telling him their real selves lay just below the surface, just like his, and it remained only for him to find the right way to see them.

All of that was compelling and needed to be understood, but it was less urgent to Reggie in that moment than the fact that the one person he truly wanted to see was missing. He was about to pad across the soft grass that lay between him and Liam, intending to more or less demand to know where Rich was, when he heard a male voice behind him.

“Looking for me?”

Reggie turned and drew in a breath. Rich was standing only a couple feet behind him, those dark blue eyes alight. He was wearing dark red swim trunks with white piping, and Reggie felt his lips curling slightly as he saw that, unlike the others, Rich was wearing a loose, bright-white dress shirt—though it was, at least, completely open, exposing a sum-warmed, defined torso with a lightly hairy chest and a demure treasure trail slipping down the center of tightly defined eight-pack abs into the elastic waistband of the trunks. They looked enticing loose on his hips, like one good yank would bring them down. Reggie loved that the shirt was there, not only because it framed his delicious-looking torso nicely but also for the way it reminded him of Rich’s adorable hesitation in discarding his clothes after all the others had. Even now Rich’s hungry stare had an edge of bashfulness, as if only the irresistible potency of their bond was emboldening Rich to approach Reggie and demand his attention. He, too, was as mundane as the rest, but even more powerfully than the others he could feel Rich’s real self like a radiation source from somewhere inside, under the surface. The twelve-pack abs, the second cock, the extra fingers, the size and muscle—it was all there, somewhere, hidden and waiting.

Reggie took a step closer, all but eliminating the space between them. Their eyes remained locked on each other, though Reggie was very aware of Rich’s mouth just below. It was drawn into a small, knowing smile, his full, rare-steak lips trying to wrench Reggie’s eyes down to them. He gave up the fight as Rich’s tongue snuck out between them, and a flood of warm excitement washed through him as he saw that there were two red tongue-tips peeking coyly out from between those lips, not one.

Reggie’s heart started pounding like hammers beating against his chest. His dick throbbed hard, not just the one footlong iron-hard erection he had on him but all five of his raging 27-inch cockmonster tools wherever they were hidden, submerged and waiting to be released, and touched, and ministered to by that wicked mouth and those elastic tongues and those deft, augmented hands. Fuck, just Rich’s dark, arousal-steeped eyes on him was enough to drive him past any awareness beyond their flesh, their pleasure, their shared connection and their need for each other.

The space between them was gone, wiped away. He wasn’t a giant anymore, but in this form—his once-normal form—Reggie was still a half a foot or more taller than almost everyone, and his thick, wavy ginger mop made him look even taller than that; but Rich was tall, too, only a couple or three inches shy of Reggie’s six and a half feet. He fit absolutely perfectly into Reggie’s arms as they moved into an instinctive embrace. He wrapped his arms tightly around Rich’s sweet, lightly muscled frame under the loose white dress shirt, a shiver running through him as their bodies came together; and Rich was holding him just as tight, strong arms clasped around Reggie’s longer and lankier gym-tight torso. Their taut-muscled bodies and long, rigid erections were already slowly grinding against each other as their soft lips joined, reunited like lovers who vowed never to separate again.

They were kissing fiercely now, passion surging through them, and the long and stretchy twin tongues that Rich somehow had even in his false, mundane body wrapped and writhed around his so wondrously that Reggie was almost immediately thrown into a state of sustained almost-orgasm. They embraced ferociously, hissing each other hard and deep, hovering for uncounted, heart-hammering moments on the very brink of a beautiful, explosive orgasm. Then Rich broke the kiss and began nuzzling and nibbling at his ear, whispering desperately. “I need you,” Reggie heard him gasp in his ear, their hips pressing and shifting uncontrollably as they held each other, the proximity to orgasm sliming both their cocks with immense quantities of pre. “I need you,” Rich hissed again. “I have to have you. To be in you… making love to you while I lick your massive dicks…” Reggie felt a thrill of shock, not expecting frank and desperate dirty talk from his introverted lover—but then, his introverted dad was like that too, coming out of his shell only for people he truly trusted. He was already close. There had been lots of teasing talk in the circle, but this was just them.

Every inch of their bodies seemed to move together, hands on skin, hips against hips, shoulders and thighs and cheeks burning with escalating lust. Rich was still mouthing along his ear, whispering what he needed as he went. “Touch you everywhere… hold you, kiss you, make love to you… want to see you cum… feel you cum… make you blow the biggest load you’ve ever had for me…”

It was too much. Somewhere inside him he felt his five enormous erections shiver. He didn’t even have to fully picture the two of them the way Rich had described—Rich’s words were enough, his intent and overwhelming desire were enough to push Reggie over the edge. His whole body seemed to quake as he was abruptly flung into a massive, mind-blowing climax. They kissed again, their mouths wide and mauling each other as they pounded out unreal quantities of hot, spurting spunk, gasping around each other’s lips as they tried to keep kissing. Reggie was certain he not only never wanted to be apart from Rich, he never wanted their tongues to be apart ever again, and he was beyond certain that Rich felt the same way. Around pants they kept on kissing, sloppily and half laughing with the intense ecstasy of their release, their sweaty, jizz-slick foreheads rolling gently against each other.

Reggie was faintly aware of clapping and hoots of approval from somewhere behind him, and then another voice spoke, calm and implacable. It spurred a little cool thrill of new anticipation to slink up his spine as he and Rich still held each other close, each basking in their shared sex-heated pleasure. What caused the anticipation was not just the easily recognizable voice, but also what it said.

“Round 5,” said the Avatar.

They were back in the store in the abandoned mall.

Reggie could hear the soft, ambient susurration of the ventilation system keeping their temporary game environment at a comfortable temperature. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that he had returned from a windy, sunlit rooftop he was acutely aware of every contrasting detail of his environment. The calm, unpretentious interior lighting… the forest of forgotten clothing bargains extending outward from their little clearing in all directions… the dim stillness of the derelict Galleria beyond. Reggie was in his Adirondack chair, a naked, pentahung nine-foot giant once more, and snuggled in his lap was his man, also in his true, changed form.

On finding himself in the strangely empty AWS offices Reggie had felt as though he were emerging from a dream, or something like a dream. But now, finding himself here, he and his lover wondrously changed and with more changes yet to come, he was certain that the offices, and the rooftop, had been the dream. Was it a shared dream? Was it his own momentary fantasy, or was it something the game had done—for him, or for all of them? Maybe the artificial intelligence running this event had given them a momentary interlude, an idyll to show them… what? Maybe that there was more to reality than the ordinary and the mundane, the surface we showed each other.

Everything was different here, but he retained the sense that these were their true forms, just as he had sensed before when his body had seemed to be in its old, “normal” shape. Everything else was different. There was only one other point of continuity from their moment on the breezy rooftop to this: his own eyes were still locked on those deep, dark-blue eyes before him as the young designer caressed Reggie’s once-again massive and out-of-proportion pecs.

No, that wasn’t quite true. They were both flushed and covered in the spend of fresh, earth-shaking orgasm, their hearts pounding hard, even if it had erupted from the eight ruddy still hard, still quivering, spunk-covered cocks they had between them instead of only one apiece. The others were clapping and cheering their performance, like they were on the rooftop. And Rich’s kiss-bruised lips were curved in a smile, and two pink tongue-tips were slyly poking out between them. Reggie smiled back at him, and he could almost feel his own eyes glinting as his gaze focused in that necessary mouth. He was already planning his next attack when their translucent host spoke again.

“For this round,” the Avatar continued in his calm, flat voice (and Reggie glanced back up to exchange a glance with Rich, both realizing at the same time that a new twist was about to be announced like the Round Captain from the last go-round), “each change will also rebound back on the sender, regardless of the effects and overrides on the target.” Reggie felt his brows go up. This made him think of his target, Karl, and a quick glance in that direction found the hot CFO tossing him a coy wink. His long-haired kid brother (who was again reclining contentedly in his much bigger brother’s lap) was grinning knowingly at Reggie, too—and with the realization that he was Oliver’s target it dawned on him that there was going to be a lot of changing going on this round.

“Fuck, it’s all double the changes,” Henry breathed. He was back where he belonged, with his darker-skinned, formerly secret lover firmly seated on his three thick stone-white cock pillars, his many-fingered hand sliding idly up and down Brandon’s hard-carved abs.

“In addition,” the A.I. went on somewhat unexpectedly, causing everyone to look up and actually focus on the translucent idealized man, “at the end of the round each player will choose a change from this round and bestow it on any other player.”

Reggie blinked, taking a second to drink in the ramifications of this second, unforeseen twist. It didn’t take him long to figure out what was already going through the minds of all the other guys, and he rounded on them, shooting daggers at each and every one of them. “Don’t you dare—!” he warned them. But they were all already chanting, “Rocky! Rocky! Rocky!”, and Rich was openly laughing.

“You guys are all fuckers!” he groused, though the truth was he was secretly thrilled that they wanted to lavish all the hot transformations they could manage on him out of nothing more than genuine affection (—okay, affection combined with six galloping libidos). Nonetheless he turned his narrowed gaze on all of them, focusing on Karl in particular. “Just you wait ‘til I get my turn at the end,” he said ominously.

Karl just tossed him a kiss. “Do your worst!” he goaded.

Rich was still laughing. “Careful, hot stuff,” he told Karl. “My guy’s pretty crafty.” Reggie felt a warm glow in his heart at Rich’s use of the phrase ‘my guy’, and he more or less immediately forgot about sender-boomerang changes and end-of-round extras as he took Rich’s chin and turned it just enough to plant a deep, vigorous kiss on him. Rich eagerly responded. They only broke the kiss reluctantly when the gameplay resumed—and that mainly because Rich was involved in the first turn.

“Liam’s turn,” the Avatar said. Reggie separated his mouth from Rich’s only enough to be able to glance over at their heart-meltingly beautiful, and infectiously horny, young CEO as he spun the holographic dice. The A.I. pronounced the result: “Richard’s face transformed: changeable, with override: reverse previous sender’s last change.”

Reggie turned wide eyes on Rich. Changeable… face? “What the fuck does that mean?” Oliver said, before Reggie himself could voice the sentiment.

“Wait, wait,” Brandon broke in. “Before we figure that out—what does the override mean?”

“Yeah,” Henry agreed chuckling, “we’re going to need algebra to figure that one out.”

“Advanced calculus,” Oliver put in.

“Imaginary numbers and everything,” Karl added.

Reggie tore his eyes away from Rich’s to glance up at the couple to his right in mild exasperation. He knew everybody was letting him do all the thinking and figuring in this game just they could be lazy, and fair enough, what else were interns for? But still—geez, it wasn’t rocket surgery, as his uncle used to say. “The previous sender is Rich, from the end of Round 4,” he said in his exaggerated-patience voice. “And the last change made to Rich was…” He paused just a second to double-check his mental notes, and tsked. Rich was already holding up the hand he’d been caressing Reggie’s massive pecs with. He wiggled the fingers—they were already back to four fingers plus the thumb.

“Awww,” Liam commiserated. “That’s not fair—those were a special gift!”

The glint in Rich’s eyes, though, made Reggie grin. “Don’t worry,” Rich said, still wiggling his fingers. “You haven’t heard the last of these guys.” He returned the hand, very deliberately, to Reggie’s oversized pecs, and Reggie felt an internal flutter of pleasure at the simple touch.

He bent toward toward a little. “So what does the ‘changeable face’ thing do?” he asked, as if it were just the two of them.

“Holy shit!” Brandon said suddenly. He chuckled and added, “Dude, I think it means something like that.” Reggie looked up sharply at Brandon, but Brandon was pointing over at Liam—except Liam wasn’t there. Reclining calmly in Liam’s Adirondack chair was thickly muscled, five-cocked Ben Affleck with a shit-eating grin.

“Holy fuckballs!” Reggie blurted, completely taken by surprise. He actually jumped a little in his chair, causing it to try to shift against the carpeted floor. The firmly joined wood creaked a little under the two augmented men’s weight as they moved. “No way,” Rich said, twisting to stare with Reggie.

Closer inspection revealed the obvious: the fantasy body, and even the softer, too-long black hair, was of course still Liam’s. But the change bestowed on Rich—and also boomeranged back on Liam—evidently gave both of them the ability to change their faces however they liked.

“Yo, Richie,” Oliver said, “now you totally have to do Matt Damon!”

Reggie and Rich turned to look at each other, and at Rich’s grin Reggie’s expression became one of horror. “Do not do Matt Damon,” Reggie implored him, dead serious.

Rich’s grin widened. “I have a better idea,” he said gleefully. “Close your eyes.”

“Heck no,” Reggie said defiantly.

“Close your eeyy-ees,” Rich sang. The others chuckled.

Reggie huffed a sigh. “Fine,” he said, and closed his eyes. “Better not be Beyoncé,” he muttered under his breath. Suddenly the others were laughing and clapping, and Reggie snapped open his eyes, ready to protest whatever Rich had done to his beautiful face—but when he saw what Rich had done all he could do was stare.

“You’re a soccer fiend,” reasoned a good-looking, bronze-skinned man with exquisite, chiseled and very familiar features in Rich’s liquid baritone voice. His smile was wide and a little breathtaking. “Tell me you have not dreamed of kissing this face.”

The idea of a handsome and excitingly vibrant soccer great like Cristiano Ronaldo sitting in his lap really did turn Reggie on, and it was pretty awesome that Rich already knew him well enough to guess that it might. It was almost a cliché, of course, the Portuguese superstar being practically the only international football star any American could conceivably name, but… fuck, he had fantasized about making out with a sweaty and shirtless, post-Cup finals Ronaldo. And Rich, of course, could be forgiven for not knowing about Reggie’s more recent favorites, like the tall, long-haired Edinson Cavani or sweet-smiling James Rodrí­guez. The fact was, Reggie could not stop staring. Fascinatingly, there was still a smear of cum on “Ronaldo”‘s tan cheek—the same smear that had been there a moment before on Rich’s own stunningly handsome face. He reached up to wipe it away, and let his thumb stroke along the soccer star’s legendary cheekbones.

Rich bit his lower lip shyly, which looked adorable on Ronaldo’s famous features. “Should I have gone for Beckham instead?” he asked, half curious, half teasing, his deep blue eyes glinting with mischief.

“Shut up,” Reggie sighed, moving in for a deep, slow, and very passionate snog with his still-too-kissable, double-tongued, Ronaldo-faced man. The others whooped and cheered loudly.

Reggie and Rich seemed not to be coming up for air anytime soon. “I feel like I should utter a Ben Affleck catch-phrase at this point,” Liam said after a moment of this, trying to affect a South Boston accent, not much more successfully than the actor had. As Reggie and Rich deepened their slow kiss, Liam added awkwardly, “Er… does Ben Affleck have any catch phrases?”

“Henry’s turn,” the Avatar said abruptly.

“Whoops, guess not,” Liam said, still with the fake Southie accent. Reggie and Rich broke their kiss, pressing their foreheads together and grinning, like they’d done something slightly illicit with their fake-celebrity make-out session. Reggie was relieved to see that even during the kiss Rich had returned to his usual, surpassingly handsome face, those dark blue eyes shining up at him from under his thin, dark brows. Henry was smiling over at them even as he spun the dice for his own change.

“Henry’s cock transformed,” the A.I. said, and everyone looked up with interest. Henry chuckled. “That got your attention!” he said. The Avatar was already continuing: “Autogrows an inch with cum, with override: no overrides.”

“Whooooa,” Brandon said, sounding awed and just slightly alarmed. He looked down at where their bodies were joined by the three red-tinged, indomitable 15-inch super-hard pricks shoving deep into Brandon’s altered and very contented insides. His eyes widened even further as he asked, “Wait—what does that mean with the sender rebounding thing?” They both looked over at Liam this time.

“I’m guessin’ that means two inches,” fake Southie Ben Affleck said.

“Okay, seriously,” Karl said reprovingly. He was smiling, but you could tell that there was probably going to be a limited amount of patience in the room for Liam’s Affleck act.

“Yeah, seriously,” Oliver seconded.

“Ugh, fine,” fake Southie Ben Affleck said. “Story of my career.” He closed his eyes a second and seemed to concentrate, and a beat later he was back to looking like their cover-model-worthy boss, more or less.

Karl gave him a fixed, steely glare. “One nose per face, please,” he insisted.

“You guys are no fun.”

“Brandon’s turn,” the Avatar said, and Oliver murmured, “Thank god.”

They turned to look at Brandon where he sat atop Henry’s soon-to-be growing cocks. “Liam’s pecs transformed: quantity plus one, with override: affects all blue-eyed targets only.”

Reggie’s eyes flitted eagerly around the group. Blue eyes meant Liam was still one of the targets, along with Henry… and Rich. Amber-eyed Brandon was in the mix too, thanks to the sender boomerang, and it was kind of gratifying to Reggie that the two men got to share this change. Though they were different shapes and sizes depending on their original physiques, all of them had truly massive, oversized pecs thanks to Round Captain Rich spreading Liam’s “hugest pecs” transformation to the rest of the circle at the end of Round 4, and as he’d glanced up at Henry and Brandon he could see their chests already starting to become a little more crowded as two of their shelf-like pecs divided into three. Reggie thought it looked a little like cells reproducing. It was so mesmerizing he almost forgot he could be watching it even closer, until he felt his own hand being placed firmly against the center of Rich’s chest. His heart pounded as he felt the deep center cleavage between the massive, inches-thick muscles merge into a solid, perfect middle pectoral, even as his fingertips on one side, and the end of his thumb on the other, slid into new, deep crevasses between the ponderous, uncanny sacks of smooth, powerful muscle.

Reggie stroked the new middle pec up and down, loving the way it felt. Like the others it was as thick in the upper reaches as it was down below, creating a genuine little not-quite-level shelf a couple inches deep along the top. He felt downward for the nipple, expecting it to be in the middle of the newly created muscle, and was surprised to find it on the right. The center pec was square and symmetrical, more so than the right and left ones, but the aroused, stiff nipple was positioned as if it were a right pec. Reggie was intrigued and aroused. Was it random, or because Rich was right handed? It didn’t matter. The whole thing was a turn on. Just the fact that the middle pec existed made all his cocks tighten, spurting up little fountains of precum from his massive, ginger-haired balls. He twisted the new, possibly extra-sensitive nipple, making Rich suck in a ragged breath. “You just keep getting hotter and hotter,” Reggie murmured, moving down for a kiss.

“Not as much as you,” Reggie got in with a smirk before their mouths joined in another necessary kiss.

Out in the circle, the others were cracking jokes about the latest change, but Reggie barely paid attention.

“Left out again, bro,” he heard gray-eyed Karl say.

“I know, right?” his brown-eyed brother said. “At least we’ll save money on nipple rings.”

“Yeah,” Brandon joked from across the circle, “but now I’ll never find a bra that fits these babies.”

“You are never wearing anything above the waist again,” Henry said, and it sounded like a vow. He must have done something, either thrusting up with his cocks or tweaking a few of his lover’s nipples, because the next thing to emerge from Brandon’s mouth was a strained and wanton groan, followed by a long “Fuuuck, babe.”

Reggie’s towering, painfully hard cocks were tingling with want as their kiss deepened. It wouldn’t be long before he was cumming uncontrollably again, and Rich was right there with him—he could feel his lover’s intensified arousal as if it were his own. Unfortunately, they weren’t alone on a rooftop, or sequestered in a beach bungalow somewhere with nothing to think of but each other’s pleasure. They were in the middle of a game, and their time was not entirely their own.

“Reginald’s turn,” the Avatar said. Rich broke the kiss, and Reggie smiled ruefully. It almost sounded like there would have been a cleared throat in there, if the A.I. were at all human, or had been programmed to act a little more naturally. Probably he hadn’t been, on purpose. Not for the first time, Reggie wanted to speculate about what lay behind their inhuman host, but the thought slipped away as the dice appeared before them.

He gave the artificial sphere a canted spin, the unreal dice bouncing around within, and their host pronounced the results. “Karl’s arms transformed,” the A.I. said: “quantity plus two, with override: target to right also.”

“Ooooo,” crowed Oliver. “Me likey!” Clearly he was anticipating all the extra touching his very fit body would be getting from his very handsome and already very handsy big brother.

Reggie ignored him as realization hit. “Whoa, wait,” he said, as he watched Rich’s eyes light up. “That’s me! I’m the sender!” Then his eyes widened further, even as he saw from Rich’s spreading grin that he was already ahead of him. “I’m the sender and the override target!”

“Wait, is that right?” Liam said, sounding more like he wanted to double-check than actually unsure. “All you guys are coupled off,” he added with a comical sniff, “and no one’s where they’re supposed to be.”

“I’m where I’m supposed to be, in all senses of the phrase,” Karl said cockily, “and so’s my fellow giant here. Our guys came to us!”

“So to speak,” Rich teased. Reggie barely heard him. He waited for the moment of growth, of transformation, his arms splitting apart into more and more long, hard-muscled limbs. But somehow he missed it. Like the extra fingers that Rich had gained and then lost again between one heartbeat and the next, Reggie just found himself stroking Rich’s cheek with one hand, and clasping his brawny shoulder with another, and with a third right hand reaching for the three stiff, slippery cocks shoving up from his lover’s crowded, hairy crotch.

“Oh–oh,” Rich gasped, his eyes darkening. “Oh, fuck, Reg.” Reggie licked his lips and slid his other right hands down his spunk-slimed, super-pec’ed torso to find all three rigid, touch-hungry cocks, each fourteen inches plus and extra-wide, as wide as two fat dicks. His left arms all tightened around the hunk in his lap as the began slowly stroking all three dicks, just out of sync with each other. Similar sounds were coming from their left—clearly the newly multi-armed Karl to enjoying his gifts with his hot jock brother, too. Reggie’s attention was all focused on Rich, though. “Oh, fuck,” Rich babbled, his eyes a little wild as he stared up into Reggie’s. “I knew it would be awesome, but I didn’t—fuck, Reg, kiss me, I’m so—” Reggie dove in for a fierce kiss, and within seconds Rich was cumming hard, covering his chest and Reggie’s hands with massive quantities of spunk. It was so hot bringing Rich to orgasm so easily that Reggie, who felt like he was always close now, suddenly climaxed and started shooting gout after gout of cum up the tremendous lengths of his steel-hard, monster erections, twice the size of Rich’s but no less ready to blow gallons of jizz over themselves and everything around them.

“I’ve … (huff) … never cum to much … (huff) … in my life,” Rich panted, as the two of them grinned giddily at each other, Rich slumping against Reggie’s massive chest while Reggie rested his head on Rich’s.

“You and me both,” Reggie managed. He felt like his veins were coursing with pure, heated euphoria. He wanted to kiss Rich until the world ended and the stars died and the dark matter finally revealed its secret, sinister purpose in the universe.

“Christ, no one cums as much as you two,” Karl said. He sounded a little breathless, though, and when Oliver chimed in with a weak “Fuck!” of agreement Reggie knew without turning toward them that they’d brought each other to a pretty tremendous climax too.

“Guys, you ever consider maybe it’s a marathon, not a sprint?” Brandon taunted from across the circle.

“Yeah, you see us busting our nuts every five minutes?” Henry added. “You guys are going to get dehydrated!”

“That’s a good point,” Liam said, and Reggie looked up to see the boss climb up out of his chair and head in the direction where the stash of beer must be, in the dimness beyond the pool of light they sat in.

“I’ll take a rum and Coke!” Reggie called.

“Oh, hey, me too,” Rich said with a grin.

“Sugar and sugar,” Karl snorted. “Like the Lovehunks themselves. Make mine a mojito, dude!” he yelled over to Liam. The boss showed no sign he was listening to any of them.

“White Russian for me,” Oliver added.

“Yeah, those are a lot less silly than a rum and Coke,” Brandon snarked. “I’ll have a Johnnie Walker rocks,” he called over his shoulder.

“Me too—but black label,” Henry put in.

“Ooo, sophisticated,” Brandon commended.

“I know a thing or two about fine booze,” Henry said.

“You’re all dicks,” Liam said mildly as he returned to the circle, cradling seven green beer bottles against his cum-lashed, super-thick, lightly hairy triple chest, hard cocks bobbing in front of him. He distributed the cold bottles quickly around the circle. “Your whisky, sirs,” he said to Brandon and Henry, who thanked him cordially as he moved on to Reggie and Rich. “Your silly cocktails,” he said, giving them a cold bottle each and receiving their thanks, then to Karl and Oliver he added, “Your even sillier cocktails, young gentlemen.”

“Thank you, barkeep,” Karl said. He looked up at Liam and did a double take “Wait, who the heck are you supposed to be now?”

Liam looked surprised. “Don’t you know who Matt Bomer is? Philistine.”

Karl shrugged, hugging his bro-lover tight. “When you’re as hot as we are, you don’t need to keep track of lesser lights.”

“Speak for yourself, I’ve always wanted Matt Bomer to serve me,” Oliver cut in. “Start a tab, would you?”

“Fuck off,” Liam said amiably as he ambled back to his seat with the remaining bottle. His dicks slapped hard against his triple chest as he fell back comfortably in the sturdy angled chair.

Hardly even aware of the beer he was holding, Reggie smiled at Rich, glad his lover wasn’t similarly playing around. His strikingly beautiful face was just the way it should be, and when Rich looked up at him from under long lashes with those limpid dark blue eyes something caught inside him, and his cocks quivered and flexed in instinctive response, his balls already churning in awareness of a need to constantly be ready to shoot huge wads of shared, heart-pounding release. Reggie was still flushed and breathing hard from his latest orgasm, but he bent and shared another deep kiss with Rich. Only after they’d shared another sweetly satisfying, soul-deep kiss did he consider the beer bottle he’d been handed.

For no real reason he’d grabbed it with his middle right hand, and with his left arms wrapped tight around Rich he decided to try twisting the cap off with his front right hand. He grabbed the cap and twisted it, only for the unaccustomed action to make his other hand jerk slightly, causing a bit of beer to slosh out of the top of the opened bottle and splash across Rich’s long, sparsely haired thigh. “Whoops—careful there!” Rich said laughing.

“Sorry,” Reggie said, lifting the bottle and taking a long swig, his mind spinning with sensations and reactions. The dual action had had an unexpected side effect in the rather thrilling bunching of his upper arms against each other, and now, lifting up the middle arm involved more biceps bulging and shifting against triceps in a way that Reggie wasn’t sure he could get enough of. Fuck, he was going to be flexing his upper arms against each other all the time. The one in the middle was the luckiest arm in the whole damn world.

The Avatar seemed to have paused itself while they took their beer break, but now it came to life again. “Karl’s turn,” it said, and the dice-globe appeared in before the giant CFO and his jock brother. Karl gave it a good spin with a great deal of anticipation, no doubt excited about the rebounding sender change coming back to him, and he watched avidly as their A.I. host pronounced the results. “Brandon’s tongue transformed: longest, with override: target to left instead.”

“Aw, fuck ‘instead’,” Brandon said. And then he looked at the empty seat where he should have been sitting, and who was sitting smugly to its left. “Okay,” Brandon said, with pretend exasperation. “How is Rocky getting all the overrides?”

“I thought that was what you wanted,” Reggie said, wiggling his brows cheekily at him. He could already feel it—something was happening to his tongue. It was already tingling. It was like, the extras just appeared, but the growth changes they got to experience in real time—

“Dude,” Rich said urgently, and Reggie looked at him. “Dude!” Rich insisted, staring at Reggie’s mouth, but even before Rich had gotten out the second “Dude” Reggie had bent and joined their lips together, even as he heard Oliver start to say hoarsely, “Yeah, bro, let me feel—” before being similarly cut off.

Feeling his tongue stretch and grow, just enough to be the longest of all of them (tied with Karl, of course), was pretty awesome. But even while Reggie was still growing inside Rich’s hot mouth, Rich cheated. Not only did Rich have two tongues, but his tongue was stretchy, and he was using that ability now to make his tongues the longest by far of any tongue any of them could imagine. Which meant… that Reggie’s tongue had to keep up, had to surpass Rich’s, in order to be the longest!

Reggie was trying not to laugh, but the strangled “Mmf!—Mmf—Oh, god!” they were hearing half intelligibly from Oliver made him burst out laughing, and Rich quickly followed suit. He fell back against his chair, letting his tongue loll out of his mouth. It was easily well past his chin. He gave Rich a playful shove in the middle of his cum-covered triple chest. “You fugger!” he laughed.

“Holy shit!” Henry cried out, able to see even from where he was sitting that Karl’s and Reggie’s tongues were way out of control. “What the fuck, guys!”

“Yeah, what the fuck!” Oliver said. He was laughing, too, but there was a little awe in his voice as he added, “Fuck, bro, you’re gonna choke me with that thing!”

“Thad’s whad he zaid,” Karl said indistinctly. “Whoa, thad iz a breddy big dongue,” he added, sounding impressed and taken aback at the same time.

“All Rij’s fauld,” Reggie announced, pointing down at his lover with one of his left hands.

“Man, Liam, I think we’re going to need a new announcer,” Brandon said, just a hint of teasing evident in his awed tone.

“Fug you,” Reggie said to him. And to Rich he added, grinning around his extra-long tongue, “And fug you!”

“Can you pull it all the way back in?” Rich asked. His eyes were glinting, though he also seemed determined to help Reggie figure this out. Reggie blinked at him, but complied with the suggestion, slowly drawing the crazy-long red carpet of a tongue back into his mouth inch by inch, until it was finally all inside. To Reggie’s great relief it seemed to compress once it was all inside, so that while he was aware of a lot more mass in his mouth than he was used to (at least when Rich’s long, stretchy tongues weren’t exploring it), it seemed possible he might still be able to function—though he longed to let it unfurl inside Rich’s hot, deeply alluring mouth, and maybe other places on Rich’s anatomy, too.

“You’re still a fugker,” Reggie said carefully, staring hard into Rich’s eyes. There were stars in those eyes, and they were all for Reggie.

“Yeah,” Rich said softly. “I sure am.”

“Oliver’s turn,” the Avatar said, once again stepping in after having allowed his players to have a moment. Reggie, remembering only belatedly that he was Oliver’s target, glanced over quickly to see the cocky boy with the big feet and the even bigger salacious grin grab the dice sphere out of the air. “Reginald’s hair transformed,” the host announced: “50% longer and thicker, with override: affects all targets.”

Rich’s eyes lit up. “Awww, yeah,” he crooned, his gaze lifting eagerly to Reggie’s long, wavy mess of ginger hair. Though not as long as Oliver’s it was nearly down to his shoulders, and he was kind of intrigued and turned on by the thought of it growing longer and thicker, even if part of that was just an autonomic response to the words ‘longer’ and ‘thicker’. Rich clearly felt the same and was already lifting his left hand toward the side of Reggie’s head, ready to card his fingers through it. “Oh, I want to feel,” he said, the pink tips of his tongues emerging to lick his lips in anticipation.

Reggie smiled indulgently at him. “You’re going to ged cum in my hair,” he said, still getting used to his own too-long tongue.

“Don’t care,” Rich said. Even as Rich slit his long fingers into Reggie’s already lush hair, Reggie could feel the tingling sensation of it starting to grow and thicken, like a garden suddenly blessed with uncanny fertility. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself focus on the sensations. It felt subtly erotic, all the more so as he felt Rich’s finger’s pushing through its burgeoning length and volume, and in seconds he was feeling more and more hair piling heavily on his powerful shoulders.

Then he felt Rich’s hand slide down from his hair along his chin and jawline. “Aw, fuck, Reg,” Rich breathed in an almost reverent hush. “It got your beard, too.” Reggie opened his eyes in surprise. Rich was watching his hand drag along Reggie’s jaw in deep appreciation. “Stubbly ginger beard,” Rich murmured.

Reggie wasn’t thinking about his own beard, though. He’d known Rich’s short-cropped hair wouldn’t show much change, and sure enough the designer’s dark hair had only shifted from his previous severe trim to a deep, adorably shaggy scruff. But what instantly drew Reggie’s eye, and made his long, furled tongue twitch in his mouth, was the blooming dark stubble emerging from Rich’s previously clean-shaven face.

“Oh, look at you,” Reggie said.

Rich’s deep blue eyes were twinkling. “What?” he asked, though it was clear he saw in Reggie’s expression just what was causing this reaction as he continued to stroke Reggie’s own suddenly bristly jaw.

“Longer and thicker,” Reggie said, taking Rich’s face in two of his right hands. “You’re going to have a rough time keeping that shaved off,” he said with a crooked grin.

Rich’s lips curved. “Back atcha, stud,” he said. His eyes drifted down and added, “Fuck, your chest hair.”

“Yours too,” Reggie said. He was loving the succession of little surprises they were getting this round, and from this change especially. He took in what had been the lightly hairy, olive-skinned torso of his man. What had been a sparse brush of black hair along the crevices and the faintest dusting over the nearest slopes of his oversized triple chest had flourished into a gentle spread of thick dark hairs across all three massive pectorals and sliding down his long, cobbled abs. Reggie let one of his hands slip from Rich’s sharp, bristled jaw and brush down into the newly acquired expanse. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he said. His cocks were surging as the two of them gently caressed each other, smoldering eyes meeting once more and locking onto each other as they drowned in their constantly evolving beauty. “Jesus, Rich,” Reggie murmured.

Rich flashed a smile that said he was just as dumbfounded by how drawn they were to each other. “I know, right?” he said, shaking his head slightly, unable to tear his gaze from Reggie’s.

Later Reggie and Rich would be able to take in what had happened to the others. The members of the circle with already long hair—Liam and especially Oliver—had, like Reggie, ended up with a major increase in long, lustrous cascades falling copiously onto their shoulders, their locks thick enough to almost demand fingers be drawn through it. Liam’s mostly straight black hair ended up around his shoulders, making him look like the kind of male model who rode motorcycles and had cultivated a consummate level of badassery with a katana (imagery he encouraged by adopting the face of a smirking Adrian Paul for the rest of the turn), while Oliver’s strawberry blond river of hair was now halfway down his long, tapered back. Henry’s platinum buzzcut had become a very hot, spiky white thatch begging for a bit of mousse or gel, and Brandon’s short dark hair had developed a bit of a curl as it had grown out, while Karl’s shortish chestnut hair made him look a little bit more like the much-too-good-looking college frat brother version of himself.

Body hair increased more or less subtly for most of them; none of them had been exactly hirsute before, and the net effect was as if they’d all been dosed with extra testosterone for a month or two, though Brandon’s heavy triple chest was still mostly hairless, what sparse hair he had being mostly from mid-thigh down and not too noticeably changed. Five o’clock shadows had bloomed on most of them, as with Reggie and Rich, though Brandon again still looked mostly clean-shaven except for thin brushes of dark stubble around his lips and chin, and Henry, bizarrely, had developed a very short white-blond beard. His frosty eyebrows had noticeably thickened, too, to match his new thicker, spikier hair up top, all of it starkly highlighting his striking pale blue eyes and in general making for one of the most provocative and stunning transformations out of the whole group. The changes made all of them sexier, and Reggie felt a little pang of guilt as he stared into Rich’s eyes that he was too enraptured by the impossible sexy man with the fathomless, loving eyes and the must-kiss mouth to give his other friends any attention. Only the calm intrusion of their blandly formal, perfectly designed cyberhunk host made them able, much less willing, to surface from their mutual appreciation of each other with gentle hands and hungry eyes.

“Richard’s turn,” the Avatar said. Rich blinked, and forced himself to focus on the game sphere. Reggie bent down and kissed a little along his jawline near the ear. “Cut it out,” Rich said unconvincingly. Reggie let just a little of his long tongue trail along the newly bloomed stubble there, and grinned as Rich shivered in pleasure in his arms.

Rich spun the sphere with shaky hands, and the A.I. pronounced, “Oliver’s horniness transformed: always precumming, with override: only target with the median cock size.”

They’d all looked over at the now super-long-haired (and perceptibly hairier) Oliver. He’d frozen at the announcement of his change, knowing by now not to react until he heard the override. As soon as it was stated, Oliver barked a laugh and looked over at Reggie, and so did the rest of them.

Reggie wasn’t paying attention, because all his attention was already shifted to Rich. As the sender, he’d get the change regardless of the target, and Reggie was fixated first on Rich’s wide eyes, and then, his gaze drifting downward, on his twitching, steel-hard fourteen-inchers, their tips already starting to emit a steady, increasing flow of warm, clear man-juice. The sight of it seemed to fill his vision, and he also very much wanted what he was seeing to fill his hot, thirsty mouth. He let his tongue out to lick his lips, and his chin, and his cheek, and Rich drew in a sharp breath.

“Hell, what was that about algebra?” Henry said grinning. Reggie glanced up at him, distractedly. Somewhere in him it registered that his white-blond beard pretty much perfect shaped around a toothy smile.

“This is all you, intern,” Brandon added with an even wider grin. “Only you, dude.”

“It is true,” Liam agreed. “In the end, there can be only one.”

“What?” Reggie blinked over at him, not getting the reference.

The others glanced over at Liam as well, seeing his latest face-chage for the first time. Their leader sat there trying to look stoic and Immortal—hard to do with your lips twitching. “The hell? Highlander?” Henry said.

“The series?” added Brandon incredulously.

“Hey, Highlander: The Series was awesome,” Karl objected, possibly ironically. Reggie couldn’t tell, honestly.

“What the hell are we talking about?” Oliver said, brows furrowed.

“Oh, little brother, I have much to show you,” Karl assured him.

“Focus, now,” Liam interceded. To Reggie he said solemnly, “Do your magic, Reginald Bradshaw of the clan Bradshaw.”

Reggie blinked at him again—he was as baffled as Oliver—but he shook his head and closed his eyes. “It’s probably already happening, since we’ve been jabbing all this time,” he said, “but the median cock length is… well, it has to be the 25 inches, which is—”

“Me! It’s me!” Liam broke in triumphantly. “Look! Gaze upon my mighty swords, fellow Immortals!”

Sure enough, all five of Liam’s thick, ramrod-straight, two-foot-long-plus erections were spouting a constant burble of clear, warm liquid. “Oh god,” he said, gaping at his cocks in wonder. “Fuck, it feels so good, I feel like I’m in this constant state of almost—” He broke off, unable to stand his own heightened arousal, and without preamble dove onto the nearest of his flushed, quivering, eager cocks, wrapping his mouth instantly around the head and upper shaft of the monster while his hands sought out its wild, raging brethren. In seconds he was cumming prodigiously, thick spurts of cum shooting high into the air. Liam hurriedly transferred his mouth from one cock to the next, as if trying to swallow down as much of the enormous amounts of cum he was producing as he could from as many of his own insatiable cocks as possible. The others watched in stunned and admiring awe.

“I never thought I’d see Duncan MacLeod going down on himself,” Karl said slowly to himself, staring hard at the sight. The others ignored him, engrossed in Liam’s performance. He was still cumming, and the spectacle was causing Reggie’s heavy balls to tighten in sympathetic appreciation. He felt Rich tensing too, like he was just as unexpectedly close to release as Reggie was just from watching Liam blowing the motherlode of monster cock loads.

Eventually, after what felt like many long minutes, Liam fell back against his chair, his bearded face and upper body coated in hot jizz. He was heaving breaths as if still recovering from a colossal orgasm, but his cocks seemed only to have gone from a rolling boil to a simmer, still red and shivering and still pounding out little spurts of precum. Liam was breathing hard but grinning like a loon. “Fuck,” he said, sounding happy but nowhere close to sated. “Fuck fuckity fuck.”

“No kidding,” Reggie said, feeling like his own load was still very, very close to blowing. He flashed on some of the earliest changes given to Liam and said, “Whoa, guys, I just remembered—his horniness is contagious.” It was only fifteen percent, sure, but fifteen percent of really super fucking horny, on top of the sense of profound arousal everyone else was feeling that only seemed to be spiraling higher and higher with each round, was a pretty significant ratcheting up of their already towering libidos.

“Seriously, though, fuck,” Liam said again, still panting. “As in, I am going to need to fuck someone very, very soon.” He glanced around the the rest of the group and huffed, before looking up at the translucent idealized man they had for a host. “Hey, Avatar,” he called to it. “Any chance I could fuck you in the ass at some point?”

“Now that’s just rude,” Reggie teased him.

“And impatient,” Rich added. “Can’t you spend some time to wine and dine a guy?” He was panting a little too—his horniness had been upped by the change and proximity to Liam, but he was mastering it better, maybe because he knew that there was hot, animal sex in his very near future. Wining and dining could come after. Reggie knew he and Rich were both on the same page about that.

“The Immortals are always in a hurry,” Henry put in, straight-faced. “That’s why they call it ‘the quickening’.”

“That is not—” Karl began, offended.

The A.I., however, chose that moment to cut in with its ruling on Liam’s question. Reggie wondered again whether it had taken a moment to think about the answer (consulting a database? logic software? its secret superiors?), or had once again merely paused politely to let the guys playfully snipe at each other. “Intercourse with the Avatar,” it declared in its cool, sexy voice, “is permissible only within between-round interludes.”

Reggie looked up at the host in surprise. ‘Between-round interludes’—was that like his poolside dream on the rooftop? Had the others experienced that too, or something like it? More to the point, would there be more of them between the rounds from now on? He sure hoped so—mainly because he really hoped that at least some of them would involve time alone with Rich.

“That works,” Liam said equably.

“Horny bastard,” Rich said, though it sounded like he was commiserating as much as was poking fun. His voice was rough and seemed to drip with sex, and Reggie was wondering feverishly if the seating arrangement Brandon and Henry had adopted would work for them, given Reggie’s bigger and more numerous equipment.

The host was already moving on to the next part of gameplay. “Each player will now pronounce one change from this round for the target of his choice,” it said, turning to the first player. “Liam begins.”

“Autogrows an inch with cum,” the pretend Highlander said immediately. “Rocky.”

“Ugh, you’re really going to do this,” Reggie said. He entertained a brief hope that the A.I. wouldn’t know who “Rocky” was after all, but it was a very good A.I. It just turned to Henry and Brandon.

“Autogrows an inch with cum,” Henry said the moment the host looked sat him. “Rocky.” He was keeping a poker face, but even from where he was sitting he could see those cornflower blues twinkling.

Reggie sighed. “Guys, they’re already—”

Unlike his more self-controlled boyfriend, Brendan couldn’t hold back his grin. “The extra inch when you cum thing,” he said. “Totally Rocky.”

Everyone looked at Reggie. “Well, I’m not going to say it too!” he burst out. Everyone laughed.

“Please state—” the Avatar prompted, but Reggie interrupted him. “Two extra arms,” he said, a little more peevishly than he’d meant to. He glanced at Rich and added more quietly, “Richard.”

“Awww,” Henry said. “He wants to be touched all over.” He himself was stroking his lover’s torso with his eight-fingered hands, idly but methodically.

Brandon drew in a deep, contented breath and winked and said to Rich, “You’re going to miss those extra fingers now, bro.”

“Oh, I’ll get them back,” Rich said again.

As they spoke, Reggie watched Rich’s body closely. He hadn’t been sure the changes were being applied as they were stated or if they’d all come at the end (so to speak), but his question was answered when he blinked and Rich’s shoulders and arms just doubled between one moment and the next, like they’d jumped a track to the next reality over where Rich was a hot, stubbly-jawed four-armed guy with three massive dicks and three even more massive, moderately hairy pecs. Reggie was expecting to appreciate the look, and he wasn’t let down. Rich looked monumentally, heart-stoppingly amazing with his four arms, especially paired with those deep, dark eyes and that increasingly wicked grin on a guy he’d thought was so shy and unaggressive only a few rounds back, that the building, world-exploding orgasm that had been building up in him over all the stimulus of the last few turns barreled through him absolutely unstoppably. Rich, sensing his imminent orgasm, threw all of his strong, long-fingered hands around Reggie’s towering 27-inchers and began stroking him into almost unbearable pleasure. His oversized balls seized as cold fire shot up his spine. He though his head back, feeling the new volume of his now truly sumptuous hair as he pointed his chin up and roared out his release. Explosive shots of cum in tremendous, inhuman quantities geysered out of his towering cocks as his heart seemed to detonate in his chest, taking every particle of him with him but his balls and cocks, which were shooting uncontrollably, gush after soaring gush.

And then he felt it: another orgasm piled onto the first, it felt like. It was the insane pleasure of his super-sensitive, still-spurting cocks, every damn one of them, suddenly stretching themselves, growing an inch as he came, continuously, relentlessly, still stroked in Rich’s firm, four-fisted grip. His cocks had grown before—they’d grown lots, obviously—but growing while he came was like ecstasy on top of euphoria.

And then, it happened again. “Oh shit!” he screamed, as his cocks strained wonderfully/intolerably and grew another inch. “Fuck you, Liam!” he ground out. “And fuck you, Henry! And—” He could feel it, it was coming… fuck, it was happening again. The third inch slammed through him as he kept cumming and cumming, and he screamed, “And FUCK YOU BRANDON!”

There were applause and hoots and raucous laughter around the circle, and Reggie knew they were deeply impressed by the show he’d put on, even if he hadn’t wanted to, and were very amused at his recriminations. Finally, finally, the orgasm relented, and he slumped against the back of the chair, sweaty and flushed all over. He was covered in even more cum than ever. His balls felt empty. Most of all, he realized as he looked into his lover’s smiling eyes that he was truly sated… and so happy, he felt positively incandescent. He smiled loopily at Rich, who still had his fists wrapped around four of his red-stained, cum-slick, finally only very slightly softened cock-towers, though his fevered strokes had become gentle caresses that kept well shy of the super-sensitive heads. “Thanks,” he whispered. He looked over his lover’s newly improved form. “Looks like you’re still one short.”

For an answer Rich leaned down and casually took the head of the thirty-inch cock he wasn’t stroking into his mouth, letting his tongues hint at what pleasures they were capable. Reggie knocked his head back and almost screamed again. “Okay! Okay!” he said, submitting. “You win!”

Rich reluctantly pulled his mouth off the fifth cock with a loud pop. He was grinning fiercely. “Fuck, do I,” he agreed.

Reggie leaned forward suddenly, full of an urgent desire sparked by that wonderful smirk. He smashed their mouths together, and Reggie spent a good ten seconds devouring him, mostly as an I.O.U. For when they weren’t in the middle of things, before falling back again, this time with Rich held tightly against his chest.

The Avatar had already turned to Karl. The hot CFO gave his fellow giant a long, shrewd look. Reggie gave him the stink-eye, fully expecting him to join the let’s-pile-everything-on-Reggie bandwagon, but instead Karl turned his look on Oliver. “Four extra arms,” he said finally. “Oliver.”

Reggie whistled. Karl had balls, he had to give him that. Oliver raised surprised eyebrows at his brother, but before he could say anything the Avatar objected, “Arms transformed: quantity plus four is not one of the changes from this round.”

Reggie had already guessed where Karl was going with this. Sure enough, Karl said, “I disagree. That exact change happened to Rocky in this very round.”

The Avatar stared at him. Processing? Or was something else going on? Reggie had already found he couldn’t really think about how the changes were happening, because his mind didn’t want to (and that had to be part of the game); but he was still curious about the rules, systems, and contingencies, and how the A.I. dealt with the unexpected fascinated him. Finally the A.I. said, “Accepted.”

“Damn,” Liam muttered to himself, taken aback. “I could have given Rocky plus two inches with cum.”

“Bite your tongue,” Reggie said languidly. Rich kissed his sweaty, cum-coated chest as the watched the drama over at Karl and Oliver’s chair. As they and the others looked on, Oliver’s limber, long-haired, big-balled and triple-cocked body suddenly sported six long, powerful arms packed with elegant, corded muscle instead of two. Reggie remembered that Oliver’s arms had been thickened a little right at the start of play—and he’d already been pretty hunky—not as built as Karl but well muscled and perfectly proportioned. He looked beautiful, though Reggie was relieved to see that Oliver didn’t drive him to blow his load the way Rich dod just looking at him and stretching those necessary lips and in pulse-quickening smile. Reggie was starting to have all kinds of complicated feelings for Rich, and he didn’t want his heightened libido looking at any of the other fantasy adonises in this circle. It was almost literally unbelievable he’d come here tonight lusting after Liam. Any of the other guys could give him a hard-on if he didn’t have one already—that had been part of his problem before, being surrounded by redline-hot guys everywhere he went, at work, on the soccer pitch, everywhere. But all of his cocks and all the rest of him already belonged to this half-introverted, half-alpha four-armed, three-pec’ed, two-tongued, sweet-as fuck lover he never wanted not to be touching skin with and breathing the same air he was.

Fuck, he was a goner. He stroked his left hands along Rich’s muscular arms, and Rich snuggled into his chest a little more as they tried to pay attention to the last moment of the round—Oliver’s choice. Reggie expected Oliver’s change to be directed at Karl, so he was frankly astonished when he went a different direction altogether.

The young man with the long, lush hair leaned forward toward the host, his expression serious and intent. “So, here’s the thing,” he said, as if he wanted to broker a deal with the A.I. Reggie pricked up his ears, and the others did likewise. “I want to do the extra pec thing, on Richie here, right?” he explained. Everyone glanced at Oliver, and then Rich (currently, like Liam, Henry, and Brandon, sporting three huge pecs)—and then back at Oliver, with various expressions of confusion and doubt. Oliver hurried forward with his proposal. “So, but I want to do it this way, right? If he has four pecs instead of three, he can have them in two rows, right? And since he has four arms now, you can do a set of arms for each—you know, row, right?” He gestured with a couple of right hands toward his own disproportionately sized pair of pecs. “Would that work? Because it’s still kind of a gift for Rocky,”—here Oliver flicked his gaze at Reggie, who returned it in surprise—“and also, I really, really kind of want to see that, and Karly and I only have two pecs, so…”

Oliver trailed off, shrugging his augmented, artfully tripled shoulders. The Avatar didn’t say anything—in fact, he just disappeared. “That’s… the end of the round,” Liam said uncertainly.

All eyes turned to Rich… who, in the space between one moment and the next, was suddenly the Rich from the other reality next door, the one where he had four enormous, hairy stacked pecs, two and two, and his four arms stacked with them, one pair of brawny, muscled arms to each row of square, heavy pecs.

“Woooff,” Brandon said, impressed.

“Nice,” Oliver agreed, grinning and nodding, like he was in an art museum appreciating the hottest sculpture ever. “Good call,” Karl seconded, drawing him into a close embrace as they both stared appreciatively at Rich.

Rich looked up at Reggie, whose mouth was slack as he stared at his lover in simple wonder. “I thought you were hot before,” he murmured, barely aware of what he was saying. He landed his gaze on those beautiful eyes and smiled weakly. “All I can say is, you’re damn lucky my balls are completely tapped, because otherwise I would jizz all the fuck over you.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Rich cooed, cupping the side of his face and drawing him in for a gentle kiss.

“Well,” mused their fake Immortal boss wryly after a moment, “I would say we should have our round-capping biggest dick winner give us a performance now. But I think he’s already done that, in spades, so, yeah.” The others chuckled. Reggie smiled. He was still looking into Rich’s eyes, but he heard Liam taking a long swig of his beer, and some of the others took the cue to do the same. Reggie realized he was still holding his bottle in his middle right hand, though Rich must have set his down at some point. Reggie decided he was too noodley just then even to quaff a mouthful from his beer. He was glad there was no performance this round, because he did not want to move.

“Now,” Liam went on after a small belch, “I understand that after the first five out of ten rounds, everyone has to change seats—”

Reggie looked up from his study of Rich in alarm. “What?”

“—and there may be a change of the target/sender pairings too, I don’t know. The email I got said they’re trying out certain things. That probably means these ‘interludes’ are new too, some kind of experi—”

And then suddenly, Reggie was alone. The others were nowhere to be seen—in fact there was nothing to be seen but an inky, black void stretching infinitely in all directions. He stared around, but nothing met his eyes, or his ears, or even his nose, and his fingers and skin told him only of a faint tingling, like there was latent electricity all around him, a wealth of prickling energy just beyond his reach. Beyond that, nothing. He was a nine-foot, multilimbed, multicocked, muscley ginger giant in a jet-black universe that apparently consisted of himself… and nothing else.

The void was featureless and empty apart from himself. There was nothing in the inky expanse for his senses to latch onto, and yet something, like a tingling at the back of his neck, told him that it was all melting, transforming, reshaping. He was almost sure an enclosed space was forming in the ineffable infinity around him even before low, soft light emerged slowly from everywhere, confirming his suspicions and at the same time revealing a form that was altogether unanticipated.

The light grew, and normality—a normality—asserted itself around him. He was standing in a ballroom, as might be found in the palaces of kings or the mansions of dukes, and one of immense size: at least as large as a soccer pitch, he guessed as he gradually oriented to the new environs filling in around him, if not considerably larger. Details flourished and filled in as he looked around himself. The paneled ecru walls stretched up to a richly sculpted ceiling high overhead, interrupted by tan faux colonnades and long azure drapery hiding various alcoves and balconies. The floor was well-polished tile with a simple spiral design of diminishing thickness as it wrapped into itself marking each corner. At one end of the hall was a wide marble staircase, not too grand at only twelve deep steps but enough to ensure newcomers made an entrance as they descended. The landing above was backed by a double-wide archway hung with more of the heavy azure curtains: through them one might presumably find the rest of this no-doubt sprawling imaginary manor-house and the untold mysteries that went with it. To the left of the archway the upper landing bulged out demurely over the edge of the ballroom floor, providing a small venue for a string quartet in natty evening dress to perform for the enjoyment of those below; a sprightly waltz now spread easily over the vast expanse, and around him, as though they had just sprung up autochthonously from the earth like the Spartoi from the dragon-teeth of Cadmus, dozens of elegant male couples in variegated Regency attire now wheeled and turned, their richly colored swallowtail coats lifting slightly now and then with the energy of their turns.

He took in all the sober and handsome pairings as they expertly moved around him with flawless synchronicity and huffed a laugh. In a dream, or a movie, he might have expected all these atmosphere-creating supernumeraries to be random and unremarkable, either bland faces designed to blend into the background or random extras from the back recesses of his own memories; it was with some amusement that he saw that all of these couples, and the quartet too and the servants in the shadows, were all played by their own impassive, exquisitely comely Avatar. He was a little aroused to think he was surrounded by a whole dance-floor full of him, all exactly as handsome and obviously well-made as always despite their varied dress. He was even slightly translucent, as before, as if to ensure for his players a calming sense of continuity with where they had been, and would be again.

This was an interlude, then, like the previous one that had mimicked first the office, then the rooftop pool party. And, he now realized, as with the previous between-rounds interval, he was, himself, in his mundane form: a vibrant 6-foot-6 hard-bodied ginger soccer jock with a throbbing, easily distracted twelve-inch cock, hiding within himself his true form. He could feel it masked within him, his real shape, the form he had been only moments before. A nine-foot giant packed with virility, thick-muscled and monster-pec’ed, with six mighty arms, an impossibly long tongue that reached deep into any mouth, rust-red hair erupting over hard muscles and sharp jawlines. A manliness and need so extreme one fat, foot-long cock was not nearly enough to express it—his true self erupted with five immense, rigid and surpassingly beautiful hard-ons, each the size and heft of a normal man’s arms and with massive balls below supplying more cum in a single release than he thought he had ever produced in his entire life. He felt all of that quivering inside him, suppressed and ready to be released the moment he demanded it.

Like the others, he was dressed to the nines in the height of regency fashion, though he doubted the men’s fashions favored then by the Beau Brummels of le bon ton had originally been so well suited to the broad-shouldered, thick-chested, powerful-thighed physiques of the modern young competitive, gym-going hunk. Like the countless copies of the Avatar circulating fluidly around him in time to the lyrical music from above, he was sporting a cutaway tailcoat, his in a rich dark blue; his snug silk breeches and hose below, both in midnight blue above dark leather shoes, were mirrored by some of the dancers, while others wore equally flattering pale-colored pantaloons. The waistcoats were of a remarkable variety; his was cream with small peonies, while the others, he saw, spanned a wide range of colors and embroidered designs. As he glanced down at himself, he could not help but wonder what his hidden configuration would look like in such attire. Would he tower over the other waltzing attendees, a six-armed giant in English finery? Or would the Avatars grow with him, willing themselves to match him and his friends in their size and extravagantly enhanced forms?

A movement at the top of the stairs caught his attention, and he looked up to see another Avatar, this one in black tie and white gloves, position himself to one side of the azure curtains. These were being pulled aside to allow passage for what must be new arrivals to the party. His voice carrying easily over the gentle music and the silent, varicolored crowd churning below, the Avatar formally announced the newcomer as “William, Duke of Clermont.”

Reggie’s jaw dropped as through the curtains stepped a smug-looking and very handsome man—and a very familiar one: the man in the bottle-green cut-away coat and daffodil waistcoat bore the smiling, unmistakable face of Hugh Jackman, though why the Australian superstar and part-time action hero should be grandly descending into an illusory early-nineteenth-century fête was momentarily beyond him. Then it hit him, and he shook his head in exasperation. Of course, this “Duke William” was his boss and longtime crush, Liam Clermont, once again eagerly leveraging his face-shifting ability to fuck with everyone around him.

Reggie wanted to grab him by the lapels and somehow make him understand that his real face was so much more compelling than these mainstream, manufactured paragons. Why would someone who was already almost hypnotically beautiful in his real form bother to put on the face of a celebrity who was only ordinarily handsome?

Maybe there was something about the dissonance between the image of an A-lister so ingrained in pop-culture most people knew what he looked like head to toe, on the one hand, and the transformed version of Liam that, like Reggie’s, was currently cloaked with a normal façade, that appealed to his boss. The Hugh-faced man currently wending through the crowd toward him was a shadow of the real Liam, with his huge triple pecs and multiple two-foot cocks. Only Liam’s flowing black hair and those piercing blue eyes that more than once in the past had seemed to nail Reggie’s feet to the floor bled through the actor’s mask.

His entrance made, Liam slid artfully through the crowd toward him, while he watched sardonically, arms crossed over his chest. “Hey, Liam,” Reggie said drolly as the other man stepped up to him at last, and the hole in the pattern of churning dancers he’d passed through closed around them both as organically as a cell wall.

Liam’s lopsided smile was magnetic and adorable. He was very close now, close enough to feel his warmth, stirring a familiar, automatic arousal in Reggie. “Aw, you recognized me,” his boss said, in a game but very flawed attempt at an Australian accent. He gestured as his finery. “What do you think?” he asked. “Very Kate & Leopold, eh?”

Reggie blinked at him. “Who?”

Hugh Jackman’s eyes narrowed. “Seriously? How are you able to talk at length about the finer points of Inner Space or Desperately Seeking Susan and not know Kate and Leopold?”

“You do know I was forced to watch 80s movies and only 80s movies, right?” Reggie said dryly. “Anything after When Harry Met Sally might as well be out of print and in Braille.”

Liam lifted a sexy Aussie eyebrow at him. “Braille movies?” he repeated.

Reggie grinned. “Exactly,” he said, as if he’d proven his point. Liam grinned too and moved in for a hug. Reggie drew him in close, pressing his hard-on against him just like he had when they’d embraced at the start of the strange game Liam had introduced them to. So much had changed, Reggie thought as they held each other tight, breathing in each other’s scents. Back then, his aching boner had craved any kind of action, but his hopes had all been pinned in his out-of-reach Adonis of a boss. Now, though… They separated, though with one arm around each other’s backs, and Reggie looked instinctively up to the top of the stairs, hoping to see his man, his soulmate, enter next and come to him, causing all other things to be forgotten.

The protocol Avatar was indeed making another announcement, but it was not the one he was hoping for. “Karl, Earl of Weiss,” he called, “and his consort, Sir Oliver of Weiss,” and sure enough through the curtain stepped Karl and Oliver, looking even more like the cream of society than Liam. Karl, brilliantly handsome and looking more like a young fitness and fashion model than a CFO, was resplendent in a brick-red coat and tan waistcoat that showed off his stature and physique so well it was almost obscene—in an elegant way, of course; on his arm, in walnut and silver, was his stunningly beautiful brother, his rich strawberry-blond hair flowing down his long, tapered back. They descended the steps looking vastly amused by their own looks and peerlessly put-on dignity, their lightly bearded chins held high as if emulation of bygone nobility were their latest and most delicious prank. The only sign of their true selves was the vivid green eyes Karl now sported in place of their former gray—and, for some reason, the fact that Oliver was presently sporting four splendidly muscular arms (with his suit, of course, perfectly tailored accordingly) rather than his usual full complement of six.

As soon as they reached Reggie and Liam they embraced Reggie together while playfully ignoring Liam, even sharing a brief but salacious three-way kiss with Reggie. The kiss surprised him, but then he remembered that they’d done a lot more than kiss already. The game, he mused, was not only a safe space but a place of lowered inhibitions and increasingly amped libidos, and this interlude was not so much an extension of that space as adjacent to it, a way-station before the ever-intensifying gameplay resumed.

The three of them were still holding each other, Karl and Oliver’s hands casually roaming Reggie’s hard muscles through his outfit. Karl looked over at their boss, who’d stepped back as if to let the other men enjoy Reggie’s hotness. “Oh, hey, Liam, didn’t see you there,” Karl said negligently. Oliver repressed a smile.

“That’s ‘Your grace’ to you,” Liam retorted, playing along. The rebuke sounded especially odd couched in Liam’s ever-worsening Australian inflection.

“Yikes,” Oliver said, wincing. “Uh, can we ditch the terrible pawns-on-the-barbie thing and go back to that terrible Southie accent instead?”

“Hugh Jackman and Ben Affleck as rivals trying to fake their way into the British nobility,” Karl mused. “That sounds like a really, really bad movie.”

“I’m thinking really, really bad Broadway musical,” Reggie said.

Karl nodded, and sexy green eyes lit on Reggie’s again. “Can we do another kiss, Rocky?” he asked unexpectedly, massaging Reggie’s back under his coat. “That first one was quite not enough for us.”

Oliver’s brown eyes were equally alight. “Please?” he asked, plaintive and sardonic at the same time.

Reggie appreciated the bantering tone, as it allowed him to respond in kind. He gave Karl a pointed look. “Are you going to keep calling me Rocky?” he hedged.

“Are you going to keep getting giant hard-ons?” Karl countered, alluding to the original source of the nickname. He’d had boner problems even before this game had made them both unavoidable and irrepressible.

He sighed dramatically. “Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes. Karl and Oliver grinned and moved in for a deep and prolonged three-way kiss, their caresses growing bolder as it continued.

“All right,” Liam said huskily after a while—from the sound of it he’d been enjoying the show considerably. “I think Jeeves is about to announce Lord and Lady Douchebag, so…”

Reggie pulled back from the kiss, his pulse galloping, and watched as Karl and Oliver shared a few extra seconds of liplock on their own before separating, aroused and unabashed, their hormones stirring Reggie’s blood and junk like a sex infusion right through the skin. He wondered if he and his man would have the same effect on the others when they finally reunited.

He missed Rich badly, he realized. Suddenly he wanted that one person he cared most about to step down those stairs, eyes locked onto Reggie’s, while all the rest of the world just sort of melted away.

It seemed he would have to wait for that golden moment to happen. The announcement this time was not for his man, but rather for the remaining couple in their party. “Henry, Lord Mackin, and Brandon, Lord Holloway,” the Avatar announced, and crossing the landing was the pairing of dark and light that seemed so right it was a wonder they had thought to keep it quiet. They wore matching sky-blue coats with ivory vests, as if to make their togetherness indisputable. Their hands were clasped as they descended without fuss or pageantry into the throng, and even with their eyes on Reggie and the others one sensed that their true attentions were immersed irrevocably in each other.

Like the others, their real forms were hidden away, but they were radiating such potent manliness and raw, primal allure that Reggie could feel his own true form wanting to emerge. The effect was so strong he actually felt himself grow a couple of inches taller, as if he couldn’t control his own physical response to their intense virility, and his chest pushed out against his costume significantly more than it had before.

As Henry and Brandon approached he felt Karl, Liam, and Oliver melt back a step, embracing each other around the waists as they looked on intently. Henry and Brandon hugged Reggie loosely, but for a long moment they just helplessly stared at each other, drunk on their own mutual potency.

“Kiss him,” coughed Liam. Karl and Oliver took it up. “Kiss him,” they said, and the three of them kept saying it in a weird syncopation, like the ribbeting of frogs.

Reggie smiled, a little abashed. He felt self-conscious at having lost control enough to have jumped up a bit past his already tall 6-foot-6. “I guess we better kiss,” he said, smiling crookedly.

Brandon reached a hand around his neck and pulled him down for a deep and almost orgasm-inducing kiss. Instead of joining the kiss and making it a three-way like Karl and Oliver had done, Henry moved in close and kissed along Reggie’s rusty jaw, until finally Reggie shifted toward him and it was Brandon’s turn to mouth along his jaw and neck.

Finally they broke apart, red-cheeked and smiling, and the other three erupted into applause. “Ten out of ten,” Karl cheered, and Oliver called out, “Hendon for the win!”

Henry looked over at them in dry irritation. “We are not doing a couple name,” he admonished them sharply.

“You know,” Karl said conversationally to Liam and Oliver, ignoring Henry, “I’ve heard a lot Henrys go by ‘Harry’ instead, especially back in the olden days. And you know what that means…” Then, as if they’d planned it, the three of them turned and started gleefully chanting, “Hardon! Hardon! Hardon!”

Henry and Brandon hung their heads. “I think they want you to go back to Hendon,” Reggie chuckled, knowing full well the chances of them doing so were less than zero.

He noticed Liam looking up at the landing above the stairs, and Reggie turned instantly, heart thumping. This was it. His man was finally going to arrive. “Sir Richard De Luca,” the Avatar announced.

A olive-skinned, dark-haired, impossibly beautiful man in—shockingly—modern white tie and tails stepped through the curtains, his dark blue eyes scanning the crowd before instantly finding his. Reggie—now identically attired—caught his breath, enraptured. Just as he had expected, everything else seemed to fall away, and it was just him and Rich, as his man moved slowly, relentlessly toward him.

Time slowed, folding as it did so, and Rich’s progress down the wide, gleaming stairs became an all-encompassing embrace in a world of dazzling light and indistinct sound. There were others in the white expanse, too, close by yet distant, like revolving networks of solar systems spreading out from the universal foci, these two men with eyes only for each other. Echoes of the quartet’s rhapsodic strains curled lazily around them, and their embrace became a dance, their strong, nimble feet gently moving and turning them of their own accord within the soundscape around them. Their arms wrapped snugly around each other’s exquisite torsos under their cutaway jackets, both of them awed by the magnitude of their passion while at the same time sure there were untold levels yet to come.

Reggie found himself overflowing with giddy emotions he could not contain as he stared deep into those dark-blue eyes. “I don’t know how it’s possible, what I’m feeling for you,” he couldn’t help saying, almost dizzy at the absurdity of such a powerful attachment growing in the space of a single day.

Rich’s eyes danced as they drank him in, clearly mirroring, much to Reggie’s gratification and relief, everything he seemed to be feeling. “How is any of this possible?” he deadpanned with a slight smile.

As if provoked into manifestation by his words, as they swayed and turned to the sweetly soft music Reggie felt the strong arms he was holding his man close to himself with multiply under Rich’s coat, becoming four, then six. Rich’s arms did the same, doubling in number as his powerful chest resumed its stacked proportions, and Rich squeezed him tight, drawing a long moan from Reggie. Their lush hair grew out to its natural length, cascading over wide, bulging shoulders like red and black waterfalls. Reggie’s true form continued expanding outward from its inner hiding place, stretching his body to its natural, towering height, and though Rich’s expanding abs, his eight-pack becoming ten and then twelve, extended his form, too, if not so dramatically, Rich’s feet left the floor, held as he was in the many arms of his taller lover. Then the tiles beneath them seemed to fall away, and they slowly turned together in an infinite white expanse, legs entwined, the remote sound of strings still wafting celestially around them. Their evening dress was gone, both of them certain that nothing at all should separate them, and their immense, slick, and sensitive cocks slid and pressed between them as they held each other as closely as they possibly could. Faint impressions of other naked forms revolved insubstantially around them, detached and inconsequential.

Reggie felt consumed by a thousand cravings. The warmth of fathomless arousal blazed through him. With an almost magnetic urgency his lips found Rich’s and they fell instantly into a deep and hungry kiss, his ultralong tongue unfurling into Rich’s hot, eager mouth, Rich’s twin tongues stretching to play with his. They quaked with the intensity of approaching climax, their floating, twisting bodies writhing with lust and far more than lust. Reggie knew he wanted to be inside Rich. The need to push hard, towering cockflesh deep into Rich’s smaller body drove him close to climax—but then his tide shifted, and he imagined one or three of Rich’s long, thick cocks pressing into him, deeper and deeper, and just the thought of it was enough to push him over the edge. Somehow deepening his ferocious kiss, holding Rich to him with all his limbs, Reggie rocketed into stratospheric release, cumming torrentially from all five cocks. Rich grunted into their kiss and responded in kind, his body spasming with orgasm as they came together in the heavenly void, erupting like geysers with seemingly endless quantities of jizz as they gasped through their kisses, unwilling to separate their mouths as much as they possibly could.

They floated together in living bliss for a long time, sharing an afterglow as powerful as a sun as they downshifted their kisses from hot and frantic to slow and sweet, smiling against each other’s mouths as their lips and tongues moved against each other. Finally their rested, sharing each other’s breath. Reggie leaned his head on Rich’s sweat-dampened shoulder, letting his tongue playfully tease the nearest of Rich’s four hard, pointed nipples. Rich shivered and, chuckling lightly, let his own tongues out to caress his softly bearded jawline. Reggie hummed contentedly, all his thumbs stroking back and forth along Rich’s long, delightful back and ass.

After a time he felt the cool tiles under his bare feet again, though even as his soles made contact the sensation shifted from smooth ceramic to warm, tightly woven carpeting. He looked around. The menswear shop that had been their gaming venue had reassembled around them, though not quite as it had been: everything, from the flooring to the chrome fixtures to the clothes filling the shelves and racks, was now a rich, alabaster white, themselves and their friends providing almost the only color. Even the close-set ring of Adirondack chairs around them was redone in a snowy white so pure that Henry looked tanned and blond by comparison. All the cum they had released on themselves was gone without a trace; Reggie felt as clean as if he had just showered, though the potent afterglow still lingered, and he could tell from Rich’s dreamy eyes and slight smirk that the same was true for his man as well. They would need to do that thing he’d been thinking about, he knew. Just imagining it was not enough.

The other five were by now all in their accustomed seats—Oliver’s and Brandon’s “seats” being their lovers’ laps, as before—and though they too looked freshly bathed and immaculate they all bore the slightly flushed and goofily happy visages of the recently orgasmed. Liam seemed especially pleased with himself, and Reggie remembered his intent to play with the Avatar during the interval. He chuckled. Perhaps all those extra copies of their artificial Adonis hadn’t been there just for show.

The others were waiting for him, and so, without letting go of Rich—who, though close to seven feet tall seemed several sizes smaller than his nine-foot-tall partner—he moved to his seat and sat down, shifting Rich to a comfortable sidesaddle position in his lap. Their immense cocks were still hard, Reggie’s twice as big as Rich’s (and, he couldn’t help noticing, each another three inches longer thanks to his recent orgasm, despite its having taken place during an “interlude”); but Rich only cuddled into Reggie’s larger torso, idly stroking the shaft of one prodigious erection with one of his right hands.

“You Lovehunks ready?” Karl teased from the chair to their left, breaking free from a lingering kiss with Oliver to do so.

Reggie grinned, but before he could retort in kind their divinely perfect Avatar, like them divested of finery and restored to nakedness, reappeared translucently at the center of their circle. His chiseled face was as impassive as ever—if Liam did fuck him, Reggie thought with amusement, he’s sure not letting on.

The Avatar looked around at them, as if to gauge their readiness, or perhaps to gather their attention. Finally he spoke.

“Round 6,” he intoned.

“Hey, why do you look like Hugh Jackman, by the way?” Henry asked Liam abruptly, interrupting the AI. “Unless you actually are Hugh Jackman, in which case I just want to finally say to your face that I always thought you were too tall to play Wolverine.”

“And just what is an ‘ackman’ anyway?” Karl chipped in, as if this were a longstanding pet peeve of his. “And exactly how huge—”

“For this round,” the Avatar broke in, cutting off the corny joke none too soon, “there are two new conditions. The first new condition is as follows: for this round and going forward, the players must each choose new targets.”

“Told you,” Liam put in.

“Wait—’choose’?” Brandon said. “We choose who to change this time?” He and Henry exchanged meaningful looks.

“Interesting,” Henry said, lips quirking.

The AI ignored them at turned to player one. “Liam, please state your target.”

Reggie’s eyes met Liam’s, spotting the incoming mischief with no difficulty. He gave Liam a threatening look. “Don’t say it—” he got out, too late.

“Rocky,” Liam said over him, tossing him a kiss.

“Seriously,” Reggie said.

“Liam, your target is now Rocky,” the AI confirmed, causing Liam to smile wide at the acceptance of the name. (“Seriously,” Reggie said again.) Turning to the next seat, he repeated, “Henry, please state your target.”

Henry and Brandon named each other, unsurprisingly, and from their expressions they were already silently plotting how to maximize any upcoming changes for their mutual enjoyment. Reggie was next, and, seeing some merit in “Hardon”‘s plan, he followed suit and named Rich as his new target.

Rich looked up at him with a cocked eyebrow. “What?”

“You know this game doesn’t always go according to plan,” Rich said, though he didn’t sound too concerned.

Reggie smiled. “Where would be the fun in that?” he said.

“Guys, I dunno, looks like Liam might be screwed out of targeting,” Karl snarked. But when the Avatar asked him his new target, he responded, “I gotta be the one changing Ollie.”

Oliver grimaced. “Can you rephrase that, please?” Reggie and Liam both barked a laugh. Oliver, asked for his new target, gave his brother a hard look, as if he might withhold the opportunity to change him, but then his expression turned sly. “Karl,” he said. Reggie half-expected him to follow the pronouncement with a diabolical “mwahahaha” kind of laugh.

“Uh oh,” Rich said with a grin, getting the same idea.

“Oliver, your target is now Karl,” the AI stated. He turned back to where Rich reclined against Reggie. “Richard, please state your target.”

Rich winked at Reggie, then looked up at the Avatar. “You said the new condition was that we each choose ‘new targets’,” he said. “So: my new targets are Rocky… and Liam!”

“Wait, what?” Henry laughed, while Liam cheered, “Ha ha, excellent!”—he’d clearly been hoping that Reggie would somehow get doubled up with changes, one way or another. Reggie just gaped down at his guy, so taken aback he didn’t even remember to object to Rich using his dumb nickname, but Rich’s eyes were on the AI.

“That is so not fair,” Oliver said. “Why didn’t you try that, smart guy?” he added to Karl.

“He hasn’t gone for it yet,” Karl noted shrewdly, watching the AI closely.

But the Avatar proved unfazed and did not object. “Richard, your targets are now Rocky and Liam,” he announced blandly.

Reggie huffed. “Okay, this should be interesting,” he said. To show he wasn’t upset at getting double-targeted, he moved a hand to Rich’s already pre-slick upper row of hefty, oversized pecs and gave them a good grope, his eyes lingering on them appreciatively as he did so. He had to admit he was pretty proud of having set these up, and that had involved a bit of manipulation of the AI on his part, too. No regrets, though—the extra-thick stacked pecs looked damn fine on him.

The others, meanwhile, were letting the possibilities for loopholes like the one Rich had just exploited sink in. “I’m going to have to remember that one,” Liam was muttering, obviously intrigued.

“The second new condition,” the Avatar went on, once again speaking to the group, “is as follows: in this round each player must give up one previously received change and give it to his target instead. The transfers will take place at the end of the round.”

“Oooo, interesting,” Liam said. Reggie considered him for a moment, wondering again what he knew that they didn’t. Whatever his foreknowledge of the specifics of the game, some of the twists of the game still seemed to surprise him. Though he could be acting, he mused. He put the thought aside, sure there would be more evidence to come as the game progressed.

Henry and Brandon were giving each other another look, their wheels clearly already turning in relation to the transfer requirement. Reggie, for his part, put the new rule aside as well. Whatever he ended up doing, he wanted it to be spontaneous, and he was pretty sure Rich would like whatever he ended up giving him.

The Avatar turned back to first position. “Liam’s turn,” he stated. The cryptically-marked virtual dice appeared in front of Liam in their glass-like sphere, and he gave the device a good spin, his playful blue eyes on Reggie. The Avatar processed the spin and announced: “Rocky’s cock transformed: 50% thicker, with override: target to left also.”

“That’s still Karl,” Reggie added, and sure enough both Karl’s trio of nearly two-and-a-half-foot cocks and Reggie’s slightly longer quintuple of towering boners both started to swell wider. Rich grabbed the nearest two in a double-handed grasp, watching with a grin as his thumbs and fingers were pushed further and further apart. Interestingly, both Reggie and Karl had started out with long cocks that weren’t particular fat or wide, so proportionately this change made their gigantic cocks seem to catch up in heft to their immense lengths, filling them out enough that they seemed even more like arm-sized cocks than before.

“Fuck, that’s a lot of thick,” Oliver breathed in admiration. Brandon whistled.

Rich kept all his hands on Reggie’s now preposterously wide cocks, loosely stroking up and down. “What do you think?” he asked. “You like them like this?”

Reggie let the immense pleasure of being stroked over so much sensitive skin area was through him. “Uh huh,” he said, eyes locked Rich’s. He did like them like this.

“Henry’s turn,” the Avatar said. Henry spun his dice, licking his lips in anticipation. “Brandon’s pecs transformed: 25% bigger,” the Avatar said. Reggie looked up in surprise, and Liam laughed: they all had massive pecs owing to a permanent rule that all of them had the largest pecs. If Brandon got bigger, they all would.

But the Avatar wasn’t done. “With override,” he continued: “only target with longest hair.”

This time Reggie laughed. They didn’t need him to know whom the override was calling out this time. Sure enough, all eyes turned to Oliver, just in time to watch his big balloon pecs swell just that much bigger. For a moment Reggie wondered if that “only” in the override had trumped the previous extension of the “largest pecs rule”, but then everyone else’s pecs started visibly inflating—except for Liam’s and Reggie’s!

Liam took note of the boost in the rest of the gang (especially pronounced on Henry and Rich, owing to their sets of three and four pecs respectively), then looked down at his own tightly packed trio of pecs, frowning. “Hey, what gives?” he said. “Who took away the bicycle pump?”

Reggie was a little surprised too, though he was happy for his pecs—still just two—to remain merely massive, though he liked the look on Rich. When he looked inquiringly at his man, Rich just said, “You remember how I phrased the override?”

Reggie thought a moment, then humphed in surprise as he remembered. “All targets with fewer than five cocks,” he repeated, meeting Rich’s amused gaze. Now that he and Liam possessed five cocks, he was suddenly excluded from the “always bigger pecs” rule.

“Nuts,” Liam said. “Anyone want an extra dick or two?”

That got a few snickers, and the Avatar moved on to the next player. “Brandon’s turn,” the Avatar said. When Brandon had spun, he announced: “Henry’s nips transformed: 50% larger, with override: double quantity.”

“Nice!” Brandon said excitedly. Henry’s three pecs were now even bigger than before, but they still looked like they were carved from pale marble, and any modification to them was of immense interest. Of course, given the size of Henry’s pecs their location was now almost out of sight on the underside of the firm, heavy spheres of muscle pushing outward from Henry’s chest, so Brandon and the others had to duck down a little to try to see the change. Henry helped by grabbing his pecs and hefting them upward so they could get a better look. The stuff, pointy nips, Reggie could see, were definitely growing, though they didn’t get too incredibly huge, especially in comparison to his almost cartoonish triple pecs. As soon as the growth stopped, the nipples quietly divided in two, so then each nip now had two stiff, sensitive peaks pointing down from Henry’s chest instead of one.

“I’m going to enjoy playing with those later,” Brandon said appreciatively in a low drawl. His tone suggested he didn’t want to just casually play with them as they went on with the game—he preferred to lavish is full attention on them.

That obviously sounded good to Henry. “Check please!” he said, raising his hand to flag down an imaginary waiter.

“Reginald’s turn,” the Avatar said. The glass sphere now appeared in front of Reggie. He paused a moment to look over the two dice inside, still hoping to make sense of the symbols, but they still didn’t make any connections in his brain. He hmphed and gave the sphere a forceful spin, setting it whizzing in place for a couple of seconds before it spun down and the dice settled into a new position.

He watched the Avatar anxiously—this would be the first regular turn in which he was actively changing Rich. Assuming there were no overrides, that is.

The AI’s voice seemed to be the only sound, easily filling the dreamy universal whiteness of the made-over store. “Rich’s body transformed,” he said: “quantity plus one.”

There were a few gasps around the circle, though Reggie wasn’t sure from whom. He kept his eyes riveted on the Avatar.

“With override,” the translucent figure continued, and Reggie’s heart his pulse pounding in his ears as the AI concluded: “automatically recurs every time target cums for rest of game.”

“Holy shit,” Oliver said. Someone whistled in surprised reaction.

Feeling a little dazed, Reggie met Rich’s twinkling, dark blue gaze, his own eyes wide. “I didn’t know the game could—” he breathed, trailing off as he saw the Rich’s obvious excitement and felt it kindle simultaneously in himself. They were both panting lightly.

It happened in a single heartbeat. One moment, Rich was seated more or less sideways on Reggie’s lap, his butt resting on Reggie’s extra-long, soccer-thick left thigh. The next, he felt a sudden increase in weight… and there was another, identical Rich seated the other way, his butt squarely across Reggie’s other thigh, his strong legs laying across his buddy’s. He was exactly the same in every detail: delicious olive skin… flowing black hair and short three-day beard… four sparsely haired, extra-heavy pecs and four thick arms, two above and two below… three ragingly hard fourteen-inch cocks constantly spitting precum… sweet, compelling lips demanding to be kissed… deep, ocean-blue eyes filled with infinite excitement and passion, all of it for Reggie alone. The original Rich passed both rounded tonguetips along his lips, and then the new one did the exact same thing.

“Oh fuck,” Reggie said helplessly, close to cumming as he looked between them; only it felt like a bigger orgasm than he’d experienced even in the course of the impossible events of the game so far. His arms wrapped naturally and unconsciously around their long, bare, perfectly proportioned backs. He met their eyes in turn. Both mouths were curved in a wicked smile.

“I have two bodies,” Rich rasped softly from both lips, his words in flawless stereo. Reggie whimpered.

“Holy shit,” Oliver said again.

Need swelled in Reggie like an out-of-control explosion—the kind of chain reaction that spread so rapidly and so voraciously the atmosphere itself was liable to ignite. He dove onto the new Rich’s ultra-kissable mouth, almost literately unable to hold back, and as they fell into a ravishing kiss, bodies heating and hard, slippery cocks throbbing, he felt Rich’s other mouth attack his fuzzy jaw, working its way adeptly along its length to that tingly, body-shuddering spot on his neck just under his ear. He moaned loudly into the kiss. Rich kissed him back while simultaneously working that special spot with his mouth and tongues. Eight strong hands gripped his towering, desperate, recently fattened cocks, and he moaned into the kiss again, galloping toward the edge far too soon. He didn’t want to cum, he wanted this, without end.

Rich lifted his lips from Reggie’s neck long enough to move them close to his ear. “I have two bodies,” he whispered, sliding his tongues deftly along Reggie’s suddenly sensitive lobe, all he as he carried on kissing Reggie’s hot, long-tongued mouth and jacking Reggie’s too-many, too-huge cocks. Reggie couldn’t take any more. Crying out against Rich’s lips he erupted in monumental orgasm, his whole body feeling ripped apart with pleasure as expert hands coaxed what felt like gallons of hot, spewing cum from his wide, steel-hard pricks. His sweaty forehead pressed hard against Rich’s, eyes riveted on each other’s as he kept on cumming, Rich’s hands slowing to a languid pace as he spat the last of his seed into the air behind them. He closed his eyes for a second, feeling spent and invigorated all at once, rubbing both backs gratefully with his many hands. The Rich whose forehead he was leaning his own against shift slightly to give him a brief, soft kiss, and he felt another kiss at the same time on the side of his throat.

“Okay,” he heard Liam say roughly after a moment, “I think Rocky wins this round.”

Reggie laughed, and some of the others chuckled and made random supporting remarks. He opened his eyes and smiled at his Riches, then, as if willing himself to rejoin humanity after a few moments secreted away in their own little universe, he looked around at the others.

Apparently the Rich-mitosis had had almost as powerful an effect on the rest of the group as it had on Reggie. All of the others shows signs of having orgasmed prodigiously. Liam was red-cheeked and was spattered chest and face with spunk; Henry and Brandon, similarly flushed and sweaty, were making out in a way that read as strikingly post-coital; and the Weiss brothers were staring goggle-eyed at Reggie and the two Riches even as they licked cum off each other’s cocks and faces.

“What,” Rich teased them, again with both voices in perfect sync. “Did we catch your attention?”

“Fu-u-uck,” Oliver murmured in a low growl, seemingly without realizing he’d spoken.

Karl cleared his throat. “You know, Rocky, if you make any more of those, I’ll be glad to take one or two off your hands,” he said.

Reggie might have expected Oliver to object to this, teasingly or otherwise, but he just grinned and agreed, “Yeah, definitely.” Karl gave him a surprised laugh and hugged him close.

Reggie smiled, shaking his head. “No way,” he said, then turned to his guy, looking him in both sets of eyes. “Mine,” he said, meaning it. He wanted to say more, but from the look in those bright, serious, still-excited eyes, that was enough.

“Mine,” Rich mirrored him, still in stereo. His gaze was possessive, lascivious, and unshakable. That “mine” was a vow, never to be broken, just as much as Reggie’s was.

There would have been more kissing, but the Avatar chose that moment to resume the round that Reggie had already half forgotten about. “Karl’s turn,” the Avatar said. Karl spun his sphere, and after a moment the change was announced. “Oliver’s abs transformed: most numerous, with override: double amount of change.”

Reggie realized everyone was looking at him with little smiles—he couldn’t shirk his color commentary responsibilities now. He took a quick look around to confirm what he remembered. “Round 3,” he recapped, “Brandon went from a six-pack to a ten-pack, and Rich to a twelve-pack. So most numerous would be—”

“Fourteen,” Oliver said in awe. He stared down at his abdomen, which was popping upward in small jumps, adding another row of hard, chiseled abs, then another. “But wait—how does the doubling work?” he said, looking back up at Reggie.

Reggie smirked at him. “You had, like, an eight-pack before,” he told the young jock. “That means the change is plus six, which doubled is plus twelve, so…”

“Twenty-pack Ollie,” Karl said. They were both running as many hands as they could up Oliver’s abs, which were still ratcheting upward, adding row after row of iron-hard, aesthetically carved abs, making room for more hands.

“Fuck, dude,” Brandon said, “you could go to Halloween as a snake. That’s so hot.”

“You could wear a tee shirt and still show off an eight-pack,” Henry agreed.

The growth finally topped out, giving Oliver a crazily extended torso, though Reggie couldn’t confirm his count because of all the hands in the way stroking the warm, bumpy abs behind Oliver’s trio of thick, fourteen-plus-inch cocks—which suddenly seemed stubby by comparison to Oliver’s dramatically extended torso.

“I’m not going to be able to stop touching these for a while,” his brother said, his voice heavy with lust.

Oliver smiled and kissed him. “Okay,” he said.

The Avatar resumed the game. “Oliver’s turn,” the AI said, the sphere appearing in Oliver’s lap.

Oliver grabbed it and gave it a good spin. “Let’s get you something lame, so I can keep being the hot one,” he said, smiling down at Karl.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Karl said smugly, still feeling up Oliver’s expansion-pack abs.

The dice stilled, and the AI announced, “Karl’s ass transformed: roundest.” Oliver laughed, but the Avatar continued, “With override: plus last change.”

This time Karl laughed. “Anything you can do…” he taunted, already starting to pop upward. He shifted his hands to his own tight abs, and Oliver happily did the same. Karl’s torso didn’t keep extending like Oliver’s did, however, and he frowned down at it, then over at Reggie.

Reggie bit his lower lip. “Should boost up to 22, to be more than Oliver,” he agreed. “Move your hands, let us see!”

Karl and Oliver took their hands away, and Rich let out a low “Whoa” with both voices. Karl’s abs had indeed multiplied—but they had done so by dividing into three columns of seven.

“Nice,” Liam judged. Reggie glanced over at Henry and Brandon to check if they could see, but they had gone back to making out. He turned back to the brothers with a grin.

Oliver laughed at Kar’s latest change, while still seeming fascinated by the sight. “Of course, it’s the minimum possible increase over mine,” he chided, even as his hands reached to feel the compact array of stone-hard, flatly chiseled muscle. “Just scraping by, as usual.”

“Hey, just ‘cause I’m always better than you doesn’t mean I have to rub it in,” Karl said, though as he said it he resumed his stroking of Oliver’s abs as though he wanted to be rubbing something in.

“Rich’s turn,” the Avatar said. Reggie felt his pulse quicken as the sphere appeared between Rich’s two forms, suddenly remembering Rich’s two-target surprise at the start of the round. He and Liam were both about to get changed—or would they? With the overrides, anything was possible.

Rich’s two bodies spin the sphere together. Reggie waited nervously. Finally the dice stilled, and the Avatar pronounced the verdict. “Liam’s and Reginald’s tongue transformed,” the AI said: “50% more cocklike, with override: target to right also.”

Reggie quickly looked to his right where Brandon sat, his alabaster other half on his lap. Both were grinning, already watching Brandon’s mouth for signs of the change. Then he looked to Liam’s right and the empty chair there. The chair that belonged to—

He met both of Rich’s gazes, heart pounding in excitement, as felt the change happening in his mouth. Staring between his two mesmerizing Rich-faces, feeling the undertow of those two hyper-kissable mouths, Reggie pushed his thick, extra-long, and now very cock-like tongue out from his lips.

Rich watched, both sets of eyes dancing in delight. Slowly he pushed two ruddy, cock-headed tongues out of each mouth, double-grinning around them like a fiend.

He started to move in for a deep and dirty kiss that he had no doubt would produce new orgasms for them both, but just then the Avatar broke in. “All players must now state a previous change to transfer to their targets,” the AI said.

Reluctantly, Reggie tore his eyes away and looked up at the Avatar, who was facing Liam. “Liam, what change will you transfer to Rocky?” the naked host asked.

Liam gave him a warning glare, but Liam’s crooked smile proclaimed him committed to the role of mischief-maker-in-chief, as usual. “Horniness increased,” he intoned, repeating word-for-word the change he’d gotten several turns back: “always precumming.”

Instantly, Reggie’s quintet of thick, 33-inch flesh sequoias started spurting constant fountains of clear, warm fluid. Reggie himself was intensely aware that the change wasn’t just outward appearances, either—all at once he felt impossibly horny, like he was in a constant state of mid-foreplay with his arousal stoked to unstoppable levels of need. “Fug,” he breathed, his stiff, protruding, now-cocklike tongue once again limiting his ability to speak. This was going to take a lot of getting used to, but one thing was for sure—there was now no question that he was going to make them both cum, very, very soon.

“So messy,” Rich said, even tsking in stereo. One of Rich’s bodies leaned in and licked just the end of Reggie’s half-bonered tongue, and Reggie realized his tongue, too, was wet and slick at the end. Even his semi-cocktongue was welling up with pre, though not as copiously as his mighty, and very urgent, erections. He growled in the back of his throat, low and carnal.

The Avatar was already moving on. “Henry, what change will you transfer to Brandon?”

Henry stopped kissing Brandon long enough to say, “20% more fingers,” then dove back into his snog. Reggie watched in interest as Henry’s hand, currently sporting seven fingers plus the thumb, lost one of its plenitude, while the hand stroking Henry’s rounded, alabaster delts widened to accommodate a new digit of its own.

The Avatar, not having to turn, asked Brandon for his change. Once again, Henry reluctantly broke the kiss. “15% daller and langier,” Brandon said thickly. Reggie was surprised by that one, if only because Brandon had been the shortest of them at the start—though he had been hit by that growth-change twice. He did the calculations without thinking about it, though he was reluctant to try to say them aloud, even as Henry grew to 7 feet of lanky hotness and Brandon shrank back to 6-foot-4 without even interrupting their nonstop make-out session.

Suddenly, Reggie realized with a twist of his stomach he was next. “Reginald,” the Avatar asked, looking directly at him, “what change will you transfer to Rich?”

He tried exerting his will onto his semicocktongue, forcing it to allow him to speak, and to his surprise he found that it worked. “Um,” he said hesitantly, but he was speaking more or less normally—his new normal, that is, since his tongue was still much bigger than normal. What was he going to say? But somehow he already knew. “Arms transformed,” he said, “quantity plus four.”

Rich’s eyebrows lifted, but before he could object Reggie said to him, “I want you touching me everywhere.” Rich’s dark blue eyes blazed at that, and just then four muscular, olive-toned arms burst out of every shoulder on both his bodies behind the powerful arms he sported already, all his delts thickening into double-headed cannonballs. Reggie changed at the same time, and while it felt strange to be wrapping only one arm each around Rich’s two impressive bodies, he was more than happy with the trade—and the way this game went, with the intensity of the changes mounting and the other gleefully piling transformations on him, he doubted he’d stay two-armed for long.

Rich double-grinned at him around his cocklike tongue-heads, and he forget everything but his need. Reggie relaxed his tongue, letting it shift back to its massive, leaking, semi-boner state. He was ready for this round to end so that he could make love to his two-bodied man in every way he could.

The Avatar turned to the next chair over. “Karl,” the AI said, “what change will you transfer to Oliver?”

Karl looked his brother over, and Reggie expected some kind of joke or prank, like transferring his extra abs to give Oliver a truly ridiculous 33-pack or something. Instead, Karl said, “Green eyes.”

“What?” Oliver said, obviously not expecting that to be Karl’s choice. “Why?”

As they watched each other, Karl’s eyes reverted back to the lustrous silver they’d been at the start, and Oliver’s brown eyes shifted dramatically to the vivid green Karl’s had been. Karl shrugged. “I’d rather look at ’em than have ‘em,” Karl said. He lifted a hand and ran it through Oliver’s long, luscious strawberry-blond hair. “Besides, they look fucking amazing on you.”

Oliver smiled, looking oddly sheepish. “Yeah?”

Karl smiled tenderly up at him. “Yeah.”

“Oliver,” the Avatar said now, “what change will you transfer to Karl?”

Oliver’s smile turned a little naughty. “My choice,” he said dramatically, “is: tongue transformed: 60% stretchier.”

Karl pouted. “Aw,” he said. “I like your tongue stretchy. My tongue is already long.”

Oliver was grinning. “Yeah,” he said, “but you’re going to love having your tongue be extra-long and extra stretchy. And I know I will, too.”

Karl seemed to see his point, his smile becoming as wicked as Oliver’s. They dove in for a kiss, so the rest of them would have to wait for Karl to show off just what he would choose to do with his new tongue.

Once again, Reggie realized he was next just as the Avatar turned back to him—this time, as a target. “Richard,” the Avatar said, “what change will you transfer to Rocky and Liam?”

Reggie glanced over at Liam, but his eyes soon reverted to his man. Rich’s dual smiles were, if anything, even more devious than Karl’s and Oliver’s had been. “Cum transformed,” he said in his sexy, doubled voice: “75% more.”

Reggie gasped. He had gotten hit with this at the same time as Rick, but the effect had been halved by the override. Now, though, there were no overrides.

“Fuck, De Luca,” he heard Liam say. “That’s a lot of cum.”

Rich was still double-grinning at him. “Yeah.”

The Avatar vanished, and so did the store. This time, there was no void, no ballroom, no office, no pool: they were in a wide, airy bedroom, with billowing curtains from open french doors leading onto a high, ocean-view terrace. In the center of the room, directly in front of where he and Rich were standing, was a massive, canopied, immensely comfortable-looking bed.

Reggie didn’t care about anything else—not the cool, pleasant breeze, or the distant roar of the rolling ocean, or what the rest of the guys were doing. He pushed both eight-armed Rich-bodies onto the bed, evoking laughing yelps of surprise, and even these, coming from a single mind, were in sync. Reggie climbed on after them, pouncing on the nearest Rich-body and turning them both on their sides, the other Rich-body sliding in behind them, hard, slick cocks stabbing and thrusting against every torso.

Reggie felt a need so urgent he was certain one climax would not be enough. He knew that meant a lot of cum—massive quantities of cum. And cock growth, from his grow-with-orgasm monster pricks. And more Rich-bodies. Reggie knew all of that, and he could not wait. Nothing was more important in that fevered moment than fucking the man he loved… and he would do it as many times as necessary.

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