Description The new protocol of vaccinations on the U.S.S. Tulsa developed by Dr. Tosk had very deliberate side-effect: your body is affected by whoever you lust for. Tosk plans for the sailors to start lusting after his impressive form—but who does Tosk lust for?
|Updated||01 Mar 2010|
Admiral Jason James closed and locked the door to his office and invited his handsome young guest to sit down. He didn't see a lot of civilians in his Pentagon office—other than Congressmen, and they tended to be neither this young nor this handsome. Nor this built, the admiral added to himself as he took off his hat and sat behind his desk: underneath the man's sharp new suit he was clearly as stacked as a gym rat midshipman. Brief flashes of his own days as a junior officer only 15 years before coursed suddenly through his mind, a shipfull of men shirtless for weeks at a time, nothing to do but work out in the ship's steamy weight room… Jason struggled to return his attention to the present and his patiently waiting guest.
“All right, Dr. Tosk,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the civilian's handsome face. “You got my attention in the classified briefing. But I can't proceed without details. How does your plan to increase the power and strength of our sailors work, exactly?”
Tosk said nothing for a moment, and they exchanged stares. Jason found his eyes slipping down to the young man's full red lips, which complemented his blue eyes and close-cropped strawberry blond hair. Darn, he was getting that feeling again, that he should know Tosk from someplace. Jason hoped they hadn't tricked on one of his rare and discreet trips into Baltimore to let off steam. Probably not. But this kid definitely looked familiar.
Abruptly Tosk looked down and lifted a thin attaché case into his lap. “How young would you say I was, Admiral?” he said, popping the case open.
“Too young. 25, 26 tops.”
Tosk nodded and pulled a large color photo from his briefcase, laying it in front of the admiral. “This is me. Or it was. Six weeks ago.”
Jason looked at the photo. It showed a handsome but definitely middle-aged man with graying hair and a scant resemblance to his guest, except perhaps around the eyes. “Then you have one hell of a plastic surgeon,” Jason said.
“Does this”—he indicated himself—“look like the work of a plastic surgeon to you?” Tosk was retirieving a second photo from the case.
“No, of course not. Look, Dr. Tosk, I didn't rise as fast as I did for being an idiot—or for being gullible.” Tosk had already laid the second photo in front of him. “Now this is you,” Jason said flatly. Buck naked, he added to himself. Already feeling “warm” from the moment he'd ushered Tosk into his office, he was now very glad of the desk he was sitting behind.
“No. This is Kevin Stone. He's—a bodybuilder. Model.”
A coin dropped in Jason's head, even as Tosk was adding blandly, “He's also done some film work.” Of course! Kevin Stone was in at least three of the super-hung-musclehunk videos he kept tucked away in the back of the closet under sweaters he never wore. Kevin Stone! He was a freak of nature! Especially between the legs, Jason thought wistfully. He frowned. Was this Tosk guy really him? Or a brother, or—
“I see I've confused you, Admiral. Allow me to explain. For more than ten years now I have been working on a series of protocols that—well, let me ask you. What's the most powerful force the human body experiences naturally?”
“I don't think you're going to say the ‘sneeze,’ somehow,” Jason said. Damn, Kevin Stone was here in his office! Jason inched a bit further under his desk.
Tosk grinned brilliantly. “No. It's the orgasm, of course. The human body's own nuclear explosion. I've learned to harness that explosion.”
Jason shook his head, feeling he'd missed something. “How? And what does this have to do with “”
“One moment. The orgasm is powerful because it saturates the mind and body. In that moment you have no other thought than the sexual provocateur—that one sexual object that pushed you to the point of explosion. Your mind and soul are filled with whatever man or woman incited your extreme moment of passion.”
Jason nodded. Where was this going?
“My initial work was on bodily renewal,” Tosk went on. “The human body is always rebuilding itself according to its own blueprints. My team and I were working on altering and improving this code, but I never found a powerful enough force—until now.”
What Tosk was saying suddenly came together. “Are saying that you're somehow using the power of the orgasm to make the body rebuild itself according to whatever sex object makes you…?” He couldn't think of a polite synonym for “blow your wad,” so he just left it hanging.
Tosk smiled, apparently impressed at Jason's acuity. “That, Admiral, is exactly what I'm saying. And the process is so powerful that it happens at a fantastic rate. I'm living proof,” he added, tapping the picture.
“You're telling me that you had sex with Kevin—this person…”
“No, no. I just watched a lot of videos, looked at pictures, you know,” Tosk said, casting Jason a glance that made him both blush and pump precum into his boxers. “Over the course of five weeks of, er, intense training, my protocols progressively reshaped my biological blueprints based on the person who made my mind and body explode time and time again.”
“You're very dedicated to your research, Tosk. Any side effects?”
Tosk smiled. “None.” Jason made a mental note to follow up on that point. “So you're probably wondering how this applies to increasing your sailors… strength and power.”
“No, I think I have that part figured out. But surely you realize that, preconceptions and jokes about the Navy aside, the desired effect will only take place among a portion of our crews.”
“That depends,” Tosk said slowly. “I have managed to come across very hard-to-get reports of a top-secret military serum that induces homosexuality.”
“Ah,” Jason said. Jason had been briefed on this: it was a spin-off of recently banned Army experiments which had had numerous intriguing but unsanctioned side effects. Stupid Army, Jason thought. Always messing things up. “I cannot confirm or deny the existence of such an—item,” he said.
“But if it did exist,” Tosk continued, “it would obviously be the first of the protocols to administered.”
“I see,” Jason said. “So once I've reviewed the details of your research, it remains only to select a ship that's stationed out of the way somewhere, give them a series of ‘vaccinations,’ and then introduce a seed, if you'll pardon the expression—someone for all the men to, shall we say, aspire to. Tell me, Tosk, have you ever served aboard a naval vessel yourself?”
Tosk's eyes widened. “No sir. But—I've always wanted to—to do my duty for my country.”
Jason nodded. “Good man. So this—reshaping. How thorough is it?” Tosk's brow furrowed. “I mean, does it remap the body in all of its—particulars?” Jason felt his cheeks burn and grimaced in embarrassment.
But Tosk's beautiful face resolved into a professional smile. “I believe, Admiral,” Tosk said, slowly removing his suit jacket to reveal a shirt that seemed to exist only to demonstrate that some bodies should not be constrained by shirts, “that I can arrange an immediate demonstration.”
Augustus Tosk marched up the gangplank of the frigate U.S.S. Tulsa with some trepidation, his heavy duffelbag balanced effortlessly on his brawny left shoulder. He was decked out in full uniform whites as a lieutenant, not just a lieutenant J.G. but a full two-stripe lieutenant; and he felt like such an obvious fraud that the commander waiting to receive him at the gangway was sure to greet him by ripping off his insignia and booting him unceremoniously into the Pacific.
At the top of the gangplank he saluted the officer as smartly as he could. The commander—a handsome but skinny black-haired man of about 27 with green eyes—saluted back and then shook his hand. The handshake lasted for some time, and the green eyes locked with his. Tosk worried momentarily that the first “vaccination”—to induce homosexuality—might have been too strong, if the ship's first officer was coming on to him before he even stepped on deck.
The commander allowed himself a smile. “Welcome aboard, lieutenant,” he said warmly. Evidently he wasn't going to introduce himself, so Tosk checked his badge: YUNG. That he was, at least for such a high-ranking officer.
“Thank you, sir.” He allowed himself a little smile, which seemed to broaden the one Yung had offered him.
“It'll be good to have a cutter on board.” Yung hadn't let go of his hand. “Come below, we'll stow your stuff and then you can check out the sickbay.”
Tosk dropped the hand. “I'm sorry, sir, did you say “cutter—?” Tosk asked anxiously. He'd agreed to join medical corps as the simplest way to interact with as many of the 300 officers and crew aboard as possible, but Admiral James had said nothing about assigning him as a surgeon! But then, there had been a good deal he hadn't told James.
Instinctively he turned to where he'd left the admiral, on the dock high above, near the steps that led down to the gangplank. Amazingly, he was still there, silhouetted against the sunset. Tosk frowned. Why was he watching? Did he want one last view of Tosk's ass in his sparkling new uniform? Or was he expecting Yung to change before his eyes? Not unless he got the officer to cum in his pants, he thought wryly. Tosk flirted with the idea of seeing if he could make that happen, just to give James a show, then sighed and turned back to Yung. It didn't happen that fast anyway.
“Cutter, yes. Problem?” The green eyes were questioning, curious.
Tosk shook his head. “No, sir. I just haven't been called that in a long time.” A very long time. Medical school was thirty years ago—and he'd had only one rotation of surgery. He'd have some boning up to do. So to speak. He looked around randomly. There were a number of crewmen on deck, and as he glanced around they abruptly stopped staring at him and resumed their work. A few adjusted themselves.
Yung nodded toward the docks. “Who's your friend?” Then Yung looked closer. “Is that Admiral James?”
“Yes, sir. Friend of the family.”
Yung appeared to file that away. “Well, let's get you below. That must be heavy.”
“Not really, sir,” Tosk said distractedly. Ship's surgeon! This was going to be a strange voyage.
Yung glanced sharply at the heavy duffel but said nothing. Instead he turned and headed across the deck. Tosk followed, feeling the burning eyes of the crewmen boring in to him as he walked and wondering what he'd talked himself into.
The sickbay was tiny, and Tosk, still not used to his new size, felt like a giant drafted into a smaller race's navy. Yung followed him in and closed the door but did not turn on the light. Plenty of light was still coming in from the window, though it was tinged with red, making the whole scene seem surreal and romantic. “This is it, I'm afraid. Your bunk is adjacent, abaft.” He nodded toward a closed interior door behind them.
“Aye, sir. Thank you.”
“Prepare to undertake physicals immediately we get underway tonight,” Yung added, stepping close. He was a few inches taller than Tosk, which surprised him—Tosk was now much taller than he'd been, something like 6’3” according to the tailor who had very painstakingly gotten the measurements for his uniform (35 inseam, 30 waist, 54 chest, 18 sleeve, 18 neck, 14D shoe). “The admiral rotated out a lot of hands last week,” he went on, “and we’ve got a shipful of skinny green recruits.”
Tosk frowned. “Did they get their vaccinations? Sir?”
Yung nodded. “Of course. Perry gave them the new series their first hour aboard.”
“Excellent. Who is Perry, sir?”
“Corpsman. He'll be along. In fact I'm surprised he's not here.” Yung paused. Tosk expected him to turn and go, but he didn't move.
“Is there something else I should know, sir?”
Yung's eyes were locked with Tosk's again. “I'm overdue for a physical myself.”
Tosk nodded. “I see. In that case, sir, if you'd be so good as to undress?”
Yung was naked so quickly his uniform seemed to melt off of him where he stood. Tosk took in the rangy, extremely toned body appraisingly. A brush of black hair between his thin pecs was matched by a short pleasure trail leading to a small bush that seemed to decorate a long, thick erection that must have been a good eight inches, broader in the center and uncut.
Tosk moved his right hand forward and it was brushing against the quivering erection. The other hand found Yung's left nipple. Yung drew in a sharp breath. “You appear to be,” Tosk said softly, gently grasping Yung's cock near the head, “in the bloom of health. Sir.” Their lips were inches apart. He could feel Yung's hot, sweet breath: for all his calm demeanor young urgently wanted his new surgeon. Tosk made the first move a split second before Yung. Their lips met and joined. Tosk stroked Yung's cock while gently tweaking that nipple; Yung ran his hands slowly over Tosk's broad torso. Yung kept his eyes open for a moment, drinking in Tosk's beauty, then closed them as if to seal those images in.
Then Yung gasped, and Tosk felt Yung's cock suddenly swell and stiffen. To stifle the cry Tosk kissed Yung harder, though this was difficult because Yung was breathing hard and ragged, his chest heaving. Yung came torrentially, his cock spraying what felt like gallons of cum onto Tosk's uniform shirt.
They kept kissing until Yung was pumped dry, then pulled apart. “Sorry, lieutenant,” he panted, glancing down at the shirt. “I didn't mean to do that.” But he was grinning.
Tosk said nothing and took a step backward, slowly unbuttoning his shirt while Yung watched raptly, his cock still bone-hard. Tosk took his time, wanting to make sure Yung had plenty of images to store away. He's going to think of me no matter who he fucks, Tosk thought, unbuttoning his cuffs.
Tosk opened his shirt, and Yung gasped, looking almost ready to cum again. Tosk's twelve-inch, wrist-thick boner was trapped against his abs by his belt, pointing straight up at the cleft between two pecs the size of large bowling balls, both barely constrained and not hidden at all by a stretched undershirt damp from sweat and copious precum and so thin it seemed almost the color of Tosk's lightly tanned flesh, especially in this monochromatic red light. Tosk shucked his shirt and then slowly peeled off the undershirt.
Yung suddenly shuddered and then, to both their amazements, he started to cum again, his orgasm wracking his whole body. Tosk quickly knelt and took the warm cock in his mouth. There was a surprising amount of cum. Tosk swallowed it without a second thought. He stood up and they kissed.
Yung caressed Tosk's pecs, but an overhead page calling Commander Yung to the wardroom stopped him. Yung stood back, picking up his clothes, but he took a moment more to stare at Tosk’s cock, then looked into his eyes again. “You need to have that looked at, mister,” he said softly.
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Yung was nearly dressed already—damn, he pulled his uniform on and off faster than Superman, Tosk thought admiringly—but stopped, perplexed. He couldn't button his uniform shirt across the chest. Yung glanced up at Tosk, who took a good look at him. “Pull that off, sir,” he said. Yung complied.
Tosk whistled, prompting Yung to glance down in confusion. “What happened?” he said, then went on slowly, “It's almost like I'm pumped from the gym, but this is one helluva pump.” It sure was. Yung was noticeably more muscular, but his pecs—the object of Yung's particular attention—had jumped up impressively. Too impressively. It was happening much, much faster than it had for Tosk.
“Must be the inducement shot,” he muttered to himself.
“What?” Yung said. He was standing in the middle of the cramped room, staring at the still half-naked Tosk, still appreciative of the view even as he registered dismay at his unexplained changes.
“Relax,” Tosk said, bending down to pull his spare uniform shirt out of his duffel. He tossed it to Yung. “Here,” he said. You'll need it, he added to himself.
“So—the ‘pump’?” Yung caught the shirt and pulled it on.
“The vaccine,” Tosk said. “It’s a new protocol. I was advised there might be—side effects. Nothing to worry about. Sir.”
The page for Commander Yung was repeated. Tosk gave him a hand transferring the rank insignia. Yung looked down at him and Tosk was startled to sense that he was more handsome—his face was a touch less overlong, and squarer, more like Tosk’s. Was he sure? It was so subjective and the light was getting low in the compartment—and yet Tosk had no doubt. He still looked like Yung, though—just a slightly more handsome version of Yung.
The commander smiled at him and helped himself to a deep but hurried kiss. “We'll discuss this later, lieutenant,” he said, and was out the door and gone.
Tosk closed the door. “Aye, aye, sir,” he said to himself with a grin. He took a deep breath.
“Is that true, sir?” said a husky voice.
Tosk spun around, his heart pounding. In the now-open interior door stood a very tall young man, so tall his head was bent against low overhead of the deck above. “You must be Perry,” Tosk said. The light was failing and the young man was hard to make out. He moved a hand toward the lights.
“Please don't,” Perry said. Tosk stopped his hand. Suddenly Tosk felt butterflies in his stomach. “Is it true?” the boy asked again. “About the side effects?”
Tosk stepped toward him. Perry seemed to want to move toward him and shrink away at the same time. Tosk himself felt drawn to him. His cock was still very hard—he hadn't had a chance to let Yung take care of him.
Perry was wearing a blue and white camouflage tee shirt that was clearly too small for him—not only was it stretched tight across his chest, but a couple of inches of abs showed between the hem and his slacks. Abs, and something else—an absolutely monster cock. Tosk followed the line of it as the shirt stretched across it, hiding nothing, until it reached a head right between Perry’s thick pecs.
“This may seem like an irrelevant question, Perry,” Tosk said, his mouth dry and his voice raspy, “but who do you think of when you beat off?”
Perry took the question in stride. He must already have made the connection. “I don't,” he said. Perry leaned back against the doorframe and pulled up his shirt, freeing his boner. He wrapped two long-fingered hands around his giant erection.
“I don't think about anyone.” Perry licked his lips and went on: “I fantasize.”
Tosk was realizing that what looked unusual about the hands—it took him a second to pin it down—was that they had seven fingers and a thumb. Tosk found that intensely erotic, as if something deep in his mind had awaked—and boy did it have morning wood, Tosk thought. He shivered a little. He was entirely captivated.
“I see,” he breathed.
“Not quite yet,” Perry said. Then two more hands came out from the dimness behind and wrapped seven fingers each around the enormous erection, just above the other fists.
Tosk almost came just to see it. He felt more turned on than he'd ever felt in his life. He glanced up at the shoulders and noticed for the first time the sleeves had been ripped off to make room for two extra arms. He grunted as what felt like a half a cup of precum sluiced out of his cock.
Perry seemed encouraged by Tosk's reaction but he was clearly still scared. “This just happened today,” he said, looking at them. “The hands. Though I've dreamed of them. I've always, always…” Perry looked up at Tosk. “What am I going to do?” He asked it calmly, but obviously the question suffused his mind.
Tosk glanced up at Perry's eyes, but only briefly. “For the moment, mister, you're going to jack that monster,” he rasped. “That's an order.”
Perry complied enthusiastically, but as he started to stroke he reached out with the nearest hand to stroke Tosk's thick footlong cock as well. Tosk moaned deeply, feeling each of the seven fingers stroking him as he watched Perry pump his giant dick with his other three hands. Both of them were so turned on that it was only a few moments before they both exploded. Tosk saw stars and stumbled toward Perry, who freed another hand to grab Tosk's brawny, sweat-covered shoulder. Don't let go, Tosk thought. Don't ever let go.
After a moment he'd recovered enough to wonder if Perry had changed. He checked him out, enjoying the feeling of his strong hand still on his shoulder. Perry's glistening, heaving torso was significantly more muscular all over, in all the places Tosk was bulging—especially the pecs. Tosk felt pleased by this—he'd gotten the attention of the dreamer. But Perry hadn't quite left fantasy behind. His cock was taller than ever—and as he looked closer in the twilight it looked like Perry's cock was wider at the top and had two heads. Tosk laughed.
Perry was looking down at Tosk's torso, his eyes big and bright. Tosk glanced down. “Shit.” His cock was at least four inches taller and a lot wider, almost as wide as Perry’s. His head was pressed against the overhead deck, too—he had pulled himself up closer to Perry's fantasy-driven height. Now he was reforming at hyper speed too, just like Yung. Yung’s cum! It must have supplied the missing link—he'd never had the inducement shot, since it wasn't necessary.
Suddenly he glanced back at his shoulders, and though he though they seemed broader there were still only two arms. He breathed a sigh of relief mixed with a surprising sense of disappointment. And yet it was only a matter of time if Perry was the one that turned him on like this. His plan had been to visualize the freaky super-hung porn star he'd based this body on whenever he came while he was on board, to keep himself as the constant, the ongoing “inspiration” for the crew. But that had obviously gone right out the window.
He raised up a hand and as he was putting it around Perry's long neck he noticed it had an extra finger. He could feel his other hand did. The knowledge thrilled through him like a current. His cock, which had stayed hard, got harder.
Tosk pulled Perry's head towards him. “Now I’m tall enough to do this,” he said, and kissed him hard. Perry kissed back, an unusually long tongue snaking into Tosk’s hot mouth. They kissed so passionately for so long that they barely noticed as they came again, spraying cum all over each other's morphing bodies.
Tosk walked across the flight deck uneasily, as sailors on duty tried not to watch the muscles moving under his tight (and hastily altered) uniform. The Tulsa had been overcomplemented—in addition to its normal core crew, most of them recent transfers, an additional 70 green hands were bunking aboard ship for the experiment. The Tulsa was designed to accommodate the extra numbers, but that didn't mean the frigate wasn't going to be tight.
He was sorry now he'd convinced Admiral James so thoroughly of his program's efficacy, because it was starting to look a little too efficacious. They were only a few hours out to sea, and already the experiment was spinning out of control.
Control, he thought with a wry smile, stepping into the enclosed hangar, where the crew was assembled for him to introduce himself. He was supposed to be the control, the reference point the other men moved toward as they jerked off thinking of him. And here he was, ducking deep under the hatchway, a foot taller than he'd been this morning. And his chest-high superwide boner, hidden under his uniform shirt, had two heads now, just like Perry’s.
Well, he thought, glancing at the ranks of enlisted men in their caps and light-blue-shirted utility uniforms as he passed along them on the way to the temporary podium, maybe if he kept visualizing that freaky muscled porn star and jerked off by himself for the next week, he could shrink himself down, restandardize the experiment—
No good. He was thinking about Perry even now.
Fuck it, he thought, mounting the steps to the platform. This is going too fast. He had to retake control of this runaway train. Or frigate, as it may be.
All eyes were watching him, staring at him. All eyes but Perry’s. He was still down in the sickbay. Tosk had been prepared to order him to stay there, but Perry requested permission to stay and review inventory.
Yung looked mesmerized, but Tosk was startled at how sexy he looked with a dose of extra muscle. His double-headed boner, wedged into the bottom cleavage of his soccer ball pecs, flexed in appreciation, pumping a bit of precum onto his abs.
Yung snapped himself out of his reverie and moved to the lectern. “Men,” he said firmly, “Lt. Tosk will brief you on the medical requirements of this voyage.”
Tosk took the lectern. “Thank you, commander,” he said, and paused. Now was the moment. They were out to sea, deliberately on a course away from anything and everything. He had to shift their focus to him.
“Men,” he said, stepping out from behind the lectern and gazing out over them. “As you may know, the Navy has administered a new protocol of vaccinations here on the Tulsa. My job is to make sure the protocol is effective, and monitor side effects. So far, the main side effect seems to be dramatically increased libido.” An undertone of light chuckles coursed almost imperceptibly through the crowd. They were watching him, drinking in his beauty, his enhanced muscles, the sense that he was carrying a heavy weight erupting from his crotch. “Which—you may have noticed.” Another ripple of humor.
They definitely had. Tosk's eye caught four young men in the second row who looked remarkably alike—hair color, broad shoulders, cheekbones, eyes—and at first thought they were brothers, before he realized that at least three of them had cum already, thinking about—yep, the fourth one was definitely the original. Smoking hot face, cocky, and obviously built. The other three had unknowingly cherrypicked the Hot Boy's sexiest attributes. How had they even had a moment to fuck? Or had the others just cum in their pants looking at Hot Boy?
Well, now they and 107 other young hunks were all staring at him. All he needed to do was to marry that horniness to an image of Tosk's unreal body.
“Now, we're going to do something about that at regular intervals,” Tosk announced. “Starting now.” The men looked at him alertly—many of them clearly wondering if they were about to be ordered to fuck. Tosk smiled devastatingly and heard a stifled moan.
“Even numbered rows, stake a half-step forward.” With no confusion, the men moved into double ranks, second rank right behind the first, fourth right behind the third.
“Now, even numbered rows, I want you to massage the shoulders of the sailor in front of you. All eyes remain on me. Keep massaging until I order you to stop.”
All eyes were eagerly fixed on Tosk, many of the faces beaming, as the young sailors began massaging each other. He could tell from the energy in the room that some of them were already close to cumming, staring at him while feeling or giving this physical stimulation.
Suddenly Tosk felt hands on his own shoulders and realized Yung was stepping in, joining the exercise. He worried slightly about contaminating his image with Yung’s, but decided most of the guys couldn't even see him behind his 7’3” musclebound frame.
Tosk chose his next words carefully. “Now, most of you have not experienced this kind of libido enhancement before,” he said. “What you might not realize—” mmmm, Yung is really good at this—“is that orgasm is not something you should avoid in this condition. Refraining from orgasm may in fact be harmful. So over the course of this voyage, you may end up suddenly finding yourself building to an orgasm.”
Tosk realized that most or all of these men were on the edge of cumming. He spoke quickly. “When you do, I need you to think back to this moment—” he ripped open his shirt suddenly, exposing a tee shirt stretched over impossible pecs and the just-discernable shape of the biggest cock any of them had ever seen—“and cum!”
On command, with a rapid spreading like a chain reaction, the entire crew complement came in their pants, trying to remain in formation, gasping silently, still massaging, groping shoulders, and as they came en masse for what seemed like several minutes Tosk watched amazed and alarmed as they grew bigger, taller, their pecs swelling out so rapidly that the only sound was hundreds of shirt buttons flying off a hundred volleyball-sized pecs and clattering to the deck.
They were all taller, some of them a lot taller, some of them as tall as Tosk or even taller, and they were all suddenly endowed with an intermediate stage of Tosk's stunning, augmented upper body, and many of them were showing enormous wet-tee-shirt-wrapped boners behind their suddenly open uniform shirts.
At least five guys in the front row looked exactly like Tosk.
God, too fast, way too fast. But Tosk was himself aroused, especially because he sensed Yung, behind him, was now his height and breathing on his thick neck. Tosk was just about to cum when—
The back door of the hangar opened. A very tall naked figure stooped to come through it, then straightened. It was Perry. He started walking forward.
Tosk stared at him, unable to look away, even as he thought, Fucker, I shoulda known he wasn't doing inventory.
Perry was earthshakingly beautiful. He was even taller, with an unendurably gorgeous face, and a body so lanky you could barely tell he was even more built than Tosk, with intensely bulging shoulders, pecs bigger than Tosk's head, and a long, endless set of abs, a twelve pack or more, partly hidden behind two wide flat boners that reached up to his clavicles. Hanging off those amazing, perfect shoulders were six looong bulging arms, and below his narrow waist were three long, soccer-muscled legs.
Perry walked past the men, just as Tosk had, drawing their stares like an irresistible magnet. He stopped by the front row, a head taller than the just-transformed 7-foot-tall Tosk-alike he was standing next to.
Nothing moved for a moment. Then Perry spoke. “I'm tired of hiding,” he said into the deafening silence.
Tosk came. Almost all of the men came again into their tee shirts. Those who could see him were looking at Perry. The rest were looking at Tosk, who was staring at Perry like he was a multilimbed god.
And changing. He tried to keep his own image in his mind, but Perry—
He nearly blacked out cumming, Yung's strong hands keeping him from falling. When his eyes cleared he looked down. He was a cross between Perry and—what he'd looked like a minute ago. More muscled than Perry, but just as tall, with two superwide boners and—hmm—four overmuscled arms, biceps pressed hard against triceps. Two legs still. He'd kept some control. He was still panting, his now-straining and too-short tee shirt drenched with cum.
Tosk pulled off his shredded shirt and soaked tee shirt, his glistening chest heaving. The men mutely followed his example.
Yung emerged from behind Tosk and moved easily to the lectern, adjusting the mic upward with one of his right hands. He looked like a gymnast version of the new Tosk, which Tosk appreciated.
“Men,” he said, glancing across the shirtless rank and file smiling up at him, “I expect some decorum. Standard dress will now be tee shirts with the sleeves removed—we got a large shipment of XXXL tees, just before launch, and now I know why.” Again the ripple of amusement, as if things were back to normal. “Uniform slacks must be worn,” he added, with a sour glance at Perry and a few others nearby who'd followed his example below the waist, “but those of you with special needs in that department can see the Ship's Serviceman to have a pair altered.”
Yung stared at his men and said sternly, “We'll reconvene here again in 12 hours, at 2100. Dismissed!”