Sweet Cheeks (Patreon)

Nightclubs like these are one of those nude-only 'primal-order' establishments where the only customers allowed must have a large enough cock to even be allowed in. If you don't have balls and a shaft, it meant you worked there as a waitress, dancer, escort, and or likely all of the above. 

It's been a surreal time for DJ. As a young horny man raised with the expectation of swinging his big dick through life, he had fondly looked forward to visiting a place like this...perhaps at a bachelor party or a night out with the boys. it wasn't too long ago, where he was blissfully unaware that a man like him can be so dramatically transformed into the soft sweet ... thing he is today. Just when he thinks things cannot get any more weird and intense, he begins to notice a sudden influx of female(?) customers who seem to really enjoy flexing their newfound big dicked status. Likely a popular new procedure that further breaks down the line between male and female. 

It was bad enough having to pretend he didn't notice the much bigger guys in the locker room back in his highschool days, but this is a whole new level. It wouldn't be so confusing if DJ's pesky primal brain didn't still zap him with that natural impulse to impress, protect, and fill a man's role in the bedroom with one of these girls...if things could only be different.

 Because of this distracting setup, he is prone to daydreaming and zoning out while on the job. But the harsh reality always comes crashing down on him like an avalanche. A firm smack on the ass usually brings him back to the real world.  

*SMACK* 

"Ey beautiful. Quit daydreaming and get us some drinks will ya?"

Her voice sounds so cute and small in spite of her commanding tone.  DJ could not help himself. He knows what to expect, yet it still shocks the hell out of him to glance down at the frighteningly large cock that belongs to such a pretty beaver girl.

He lets out a nervous squeak as his brain clumsily tries to reorganize the new natural order that has been thrust upon him.

"Y-y-y-yessir! R-right away sir!"

Typical Tuesday night.