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Description A technologically souped up revolving door that produces changed versions of the person passing through is not a good thing when you’re dead on your feet and not paying attention.

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Normally Victor didn’t pay too much attention to Cameron, the geeky special R&D guy. But he was right there ahead of him in the lunch line and the company cafeteria, and he was humming. That was weird. Cameron was always nervous and tense, like he was trying the remember the one equation that would keep his latest secret gizmo from blowing up and taking the whole Spectrum Aerospace campus along with it.

But here he was, humming a Britney Spears song and grabbing two slices of pie. Victor was amused. And strangely curious.

“Have a breakthrough?” he ventured.

Cameron glanced up, surprised, as if he’d momentarily forgotten there were other people in the world. He seemed glad to see Victor.

“Actually, I have,” he said merrily. He grinned, and Victor took in a breath. How had he not noticed how handsome Cameron was? Almost unwillingly, Victor looked down and was amazed to see Cameron had a body, too—his suit jacket was filled out in the upper arms, His top button, behind his slightly loosened tie, was unbuttoned, as if it didn’t quite meet, and as he followed the solid blue tie downwards he noticed his shirt was straining just a tiny bit across his chest. His waist, though was narrow, and the shirt that was too small up top was too big where it was stuffed into his pants. And from years of checking out corporate guys in suits Victor knew it was pretty rare even for a hung guy to show a bulge in baggy-crotched suit slacks, but Cameron had a package. Victor hastily tossed his eyes back up to Cameron’s face.

“Oh yeah? Anything you can share?” Victor asked, deciding just this once to copy Cameron and take a slice of cherry pie for himself.

He expected a flat denial—everything Cameron’s group did was top secret white-hot confidential—but Cameron actually mulled a reply as they walked toward the cashier with their tray. Finally he said, “Let’s say it’ll change how people see each themselves.”

“Ah,” Victor said, feeling unenlightened. “So you’re working on mirrors?” he joked.

Cameron laughed. “No mirrors required,” he said. To the cashier, he added, “I’ve got his too.”

“Really, you don’t—”

“Hey, your next breakthrough, you get mine,” he said winningly, tossing him another smile as the oblivious cashier ran Cameron’s debit card.

“Fair enough.”

As they sat together—they’d never eaten or really talked much before, but Victor still felt curious—he asked, “So, did you have a ‘eureka’ moment?”

Cameron shrugged, biting into a turkey sandwich. He’d gotten two of those, too. Guess if he’s upped his workout he needs the protein, Victor thought. “Kind of,” Cameron said around a bite. “Mostly had work. I’ve had some extra help in the lab, so that helped efficiency-wise.”

“You guys get all the new hires,” Victor said, smiling to show he wasn’t bitter. This gave him an opening toward the other topic on his mind, so he said, “I guess that meant you had more time for the gym, huh?”

Cameron grinned crookedly, while Victor berated himself for his subtlety failure. “I, uh, kind of had a breakthrough there, too,” Cameron said, looking away.

“I’ll say,” Victor said, a little emboldened by Cameron’s shyness. “I notice all the hot guys around here, and you never registered before! No offense,” he added hastily. “I mean, you were okay before, I just—”

Their eyes met, and Victor subsided. “No worries,” Cameron said, his bright blue eyes glinting like a window catching the light. “So who are the hot guys on your list? And can I have them when you’re done?”

Victor laughed. “I said I notice them,” he said, finally picking up his own sandwich. “I didn’t say I talked to ‘em.” He took a bite, trying to remember the last time he had talked up a cute guy.

“You should,” Cameron said, wrapping up his second sandwich in a napkin. “I’ll bet they’d—you know, talk back.” Cameron winked knowingly and got up to leave with his sandwich and desserts.

Victor was so startled he was barely able to swallow. Cameron Phelps was giving him advice on assertiveness now? Geez, what’s going on with the world? He took a huge swig from his water, wondering when his confidence had slipped behind the biggest geek in the firm.


That night after work he decided to work out in the company gym for the first time in months, and he really gave himself an intense session, trying to kick start a new beginning for himself.

So he was feeling flushed and pumped as he climbed up the basemen stairs, not to mention a little light-headed. He was fresh from the shower, his long blond hair still a bit damp, back in corporate drag but with his tie just hanging around his neck and his shirt completely unbuttoned, exposing his toned but not totally tight abs and the dusting of hair on his decent chest.

The narrow back stairs should have taken him to the parking lot, but all he could see was dim corridors. Maybe he was still down a level? He reentered the stairwell and trotted up the next flight, feeling the strain in his legs from all the squats he’d pushed himself to do.

He emerged onto a floor he didn’t recognize, and the lights were even dimmer. He was just about to give up and head back down when he glanced down a side corridor and saw a revolving door.

“That must lead to the rear lobby,” Victor muttered. He jogged toward it, hanging onto the strap from the gym duffel thrown over his shoulder.

It looked like a weird revolving door—the interior planes were some kind or ceramic or porcelain, not glass. But hey, if it led to the back entrance, who said it had to be pretty? Feeling tired but happy that he’d made a move he pushed through the revolving door, thinking of how nice it would be to crawl into bed. It resisted a little partway around, and then it moved easily again, and—

He was standing back in the same corridor.

Huh? Wow, I’m more tired than I realized, he thought. He shook his head and went back into the revolving door—

And he was back in the corridor again. What the fuck?

This is stupid, he thought stubbornly, scratching idly at his bulging chest. He frowned at the white revolving door, gleaming dulky in the dim light, and determinedly pushed through one more time.

Beyond the door, in the darkened laboratory lit only by the red Exit sign humming softly over the near side of the revolving door, Victor’s curse of disbelief—“Are you fucking kidding me?”—sifted faintly through the walls as another Victor stepped through into the warm red glow, catching sight of the others staring back at him.

What shocked him most was that all of them were different. It would almost have made sense if they’d all been identical clones or something—that he could kind of process. But the one in front of him was as muscled and biff as a fitness mag cover dude, or more—his abs were hidden in shadow under thick pecs partly revealed by his open shirt. The Victor to his left was feeling down his leg for where his cock ended—with both his right hands. (The shirt changed too, leading to the bizarre sight, barely visible in the emergency light, of a fitted formal shirt that looked custom-tailored to a guy with four buff arms.)

And he, the Victor who just stepped out—he realized he was hunched over as he came out of the revolving door, and as he straightened up and up he was kind of dismayed to top out at a couple feet taller than his other selves. He looked down, in awe of what had happened. His clothes had adapted too. And as he watched his four-armed self discover at last the head of his cock, partway down his shin, he realized that something was strange about his cocks as well. Or—wait, cocks?

The revolving door was moving again. Tall Victor hastily stepped out of the way.

Man, I am dense,” said Muscle Victor with a disbelieving laugh.

“I think he’s just really tired,” Tall Victor said. He didn’t feel tired anymore though—he felt invigorated, alive. And, he realized, incredibly horny for his hot mutant twins. He felt his cocks start to chub. Yup, definitely cocks. And not small ones, either.

“Think we should stop him?” Muscle Victor said.

But Four-armed Victor had already stepped closer to his muscle brother, even as he eyed Tall Victor’s hot, rangy bod. “Let’s see what we get this time,” he said with a crooked grin.

Description A technologically souped up revolving door that produces changed versions of the person passing through is not a good thing when you’re dead on your feet and not paying attention.

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Updated1 Sep 2009
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