From the Archives - Crack the Code, ch. 6: Whistleblower (Patreon)

Peter froze at the threshold of William’s office, a sharp gasp caught in his throat. His bare, perfect pecs heaved while his heart hammered a manic rhythm, his spinning head refusing to believe what his wide eyes told him. If it had just been himself, Peter might have been able to chalk it all up to a nervous breakdown. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for men like himself to snap in the high-stakes world of corporate finance. Long hours, constant pressure, demanding executives; it was enough to push even a fit, healthy young man like himself over the edge. At thirty three Peter wasn’t sure he technically still counted as “young,” but he both felt and looked nearly ten years his junior, which made the idea of a mental break seem dubious, though still more likely than the proposed alternative. But the sight of William’s exposed, furry bulk lent credence to the notion that it was all really happening. That it would all continue to happen.

“Oh god…I didn’t think it was really…” William moaned, his sharp, stubble-covered cheeks going pale. The broad, hairy hulk leaned back in his chair, running a nervous hand over his buzzed, balding scalp. The motion drew attention to his thick log of an arm, and how the ample muscled laid heavily over his shoulders and meaty chest. “What the fuck is even happening?!”

Peter shook his head and quickly darted inside, closing the door behind him. He looked back and forth between his own smooth, pale torso and William’s carpeted barrel, feeling an odd mix of mortified pride. Unlike the seated bull of a man, Peter’s athletic frame was tight and tapering, covered in carefully crafted, sculpted muscle. The fit ginger started and ended every day with a workout in the company gym, which, coupled with an almost pathological attention to his diet, left him with a body he normally liked to flaunt. He was strong without being big, broad-shouldered and firm but not bulky. Peter had a perky, solid rear, a serviceable bulge that was obvious to anyone who looked long enough, and a face that could switch between disarming charm and steely resolve depending on what the situation called for. Under most circumstances, he liked the attention his looks brought him and acted accordingly. However, that showing off normally took the form of tight, fitted shirts and carefully tailored pants, not a bare-chested strut through the office. “Did you get the email too?”

William nodded and leaned forward in his seat, a meaty paw clicking across his keyboard. While bigger and broader, the bulkier man was no less impressive than his leaner peer. Unlike Peter, William strived for size, not caring about being cut as much as taking up space. He wanted people to have to move out of the way. He wanted people to feel small. He preferred intimidation over persuasion and he leaned into his genetic inclinations to make that happen. His features were rugged, though not entirely unrefined, and while they were the same age, where Peter could pass for someone ten years younger, William went the other direction. When his hair started thinning at the back half of his twenties, he’d gone for a short buzz that accentuated his bald scalp instead of trying to hide it, and though he engaged in some light manscaping, the hairy hulk otherwise sported his whole-body pelt with pride. Like Peter, he’d never imagined exposing that carpet to anyone at work outside of the locker rooms in the company gym, but it appeared that neither of them had a choice. “Who the fuck are ‘AB Analytics,’ and how the fuck are they doing this to us? What’s this ‘Code Breaker’ bullshit? Some comic-book super villain? Have you ever heard of them?”

“No. I tried to look them up as soon as I read it, but I couldn’t find shit. We’re not…we’re not just losing it, are we? I mean…think about it. Clothes don’t just disappear, and even if they did, how did I just walk all the way over here with my tits out and no one said anything?” Peter clutched himself, rubbing his chiseled arms in a futile attempt to feel the fabric he hoped everyone else still saw.

“But that’s exactly what this ‘Code Breaker’ person said would happen! No one would freak out or notice, at least not yet.” William buried his face in his hands before hopping to his feet, his furry muscle gut looking out of place in the professional setting. “What about the rest of it? I don’t know about you, man, but I’ll just put it out there…I’ve done some shit during my tenure here. If we’re about to…” William paused, unable to actually say the words out loud. “...go through all that for every lie we’ve told, things are about to get out of hand.”

Peter swallowed hard and leaned back against the door for support. “I don’t think it meant ‘every’ lie…only the ones about Dylan.”

“Which are still more than enough!” William barked. “Can’t believe that fucker just won’t let this drop.”

“I’d be impressed if it weren’t for, you know,” Peter said, motioning back and forth between them. “Definitely misread that one. I thought he’d just roll over and take the blame.”

“Instead he ran off to HR to tattle,” the furry hunk sighed.

“Amongst other things, apparently,” Peter added, his tone flat. “Guess we should’ve just dealt with the fallout from that instead of doubling down on the failed project launch being his fault.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m not about to throw my career away like that. He’s what? Twenty five? He could’ve just strolled into another gig elsewhere, but he had to go and act like a little punk. Don’t expect me to feel bad for ‘finding’ a few documents that backed us up. And don’t start getting second thoughts on me now,” William growled, glaring at the shirtless ginger. “You’re the one who vouched for all of it.”

“What if we just go talk to him? There has to be something we can offer him to make this go away, right? Maybe we can head this off before it gets any worse,” Peter offered, opening the door behind him. Neither he nor his hirsute companion relished the idea of trekking down to the fifth floor in their current state to find the younger man, but the clock was ticking. The email they’d received had informed them that they were being exposed, literally, for their misdeeds, and that losing their shirts was only the beginning.

“Fine. Let’s just get this over with,” William grumbled, his face going pink as he followed his handsome coworker out onto the floor. “But you do the talking. I don’t trust myself to…” the brawny bruiser broke off in a gasp, his pink cheeks darkening to a mortified purple when he felt the open air suddenly wafting against his hefty package. His chocolate-furred stomach dropped when he looked down and saw his stout cock and heavy balls hanging free through the fly of his pants, with Peter’s longer, thinner cock and more modest orbs swaying along next to him.

“Oh…oh no…” the redhead whimpered, keeping his voice down. They both braced themselves for the worst when another of their coworkers approached, but the petite, older woman simply gave them the same polite, office-appropriate smile they all exchanged in passing. “This can’t be happening.”

William wanted to deny it as his fat log twitched and hardened to its plump, six-inch length, but the accompanying throb was impossible to ignore. He felt a stab of insecurity while he watched Peter lengthen to a firm eight inches, though his accomplice’s equipment lacked the excessive width of his own. “I’m going to fucking kill him for this,” the beefy bear growled, his anger momentarily overtaking his humiliation.

“If you think it’ll fix any of this, I’m not going to stop you,” Peter sputtered, his exposed torso flushed a shade of red that almost matched his hair. He regularly fantasized about hooking up in the office, and he’d actually done it a few times over the years, but the athletic pretty-boy had never once imagined a time when he’d be walking through the building, or anywhere in public, with no shirt on and his hard cock on display. It was taking all of his willpower not to panic, especially whenever someone would stop them along the way for a quick conversation. He and William didn’t know what would be worse, brusquely brushing them off or pretending like everything was fine, so they opted for the latter, hoping to draw less attention to themselves. They kept waiting for the spell to break the whole time they stood with arms folded across bare stomachs, their throbbing cocks pointing at the person speaking, but it thankfully seemed to hold.

Not that it made things easier for either of them. While the person, or sometimes people, they spoke to appeared blissfully oblivious, both Peter and William were painfully aware of their exposure. They caught people checking them out the way they always did, giving their respectively impressive frames a quick once-over, but other than a few lingering eyes on their aching members the response was nowhere near as explosive as it should have been.

And that muted reaction became all the more surreal when the growth kicked in. The Code Breaker’s email had warned that, like the puppet in the fairy tale, their lies would become obvious, only it wasn’t their noses that lengthened.

“Fuck! Pe…Peter…is your…” William stopped short just before they reached the elevator, a hand instinctively dropping to his exposed log. His jaw dropped when he made contact, his eyes confirming what he felt. Instead of a wide six inches, he now sported a fat eight.

“Shit! Shit,” Peter hissed, quickly lowering his voice again when several nearby heads turned. Like William, his eight-inch pole had pushed past ten, adding an additional width that made it appear all the more unwieldy. Their swaying balls had ballooned in time, and the aching pressure they both felt made it clear the expansion wasn’t done. Not knowing what else to do, Peter hammered the elevator button and shoved William inside when the doors opened a moment later, feeling like hours passed before the shiny doors closed behind them. He hit the button for the fifth floor but then pulled the knob that would halt the car, hoping for at least a brief reprieve from the public.

“How do we stop this?!” William yelped, both hands wrapped around his aching wine bottle for support. The pudgy pole had already pushed out to a foot, becoming so thick as to be non-functional in the bedroom. The flustered, furry hunk didn’t think the human body had an orifice big enough to take the colossal cock, but at least he wasn’t alone in his predicament. “How big are these going to get?!”

Next to him, Peter’s oversized organ was maintaining its lead in length, and was quickly catching up when it came to overall mass. The pink piston looked freakishly large while the handsome hunk pawed at it, his pretty features a stunned mask as the sensation sent shivers of pleasure through him. “How the fuck should I know? His email didn’t include a lies-to-cock ratio!”

“Don’t fucking yell at me, man! Does this look any better to you?!” William grabbed his club with both hands and shook it in Peter’s direction, immediately regretting the decision when a punch of pleasure made his knees go weak. A large bead of clear liquid began forming at the fist-sized head, all the more obvious given the impossible organ’s sixteen-inch length.

Peter was in a similar situation, his eighteen-inch pillar oozing slightly as he nestled it against him. The tip stopped just below the ridge of his chiseled pecs, the extra size seeming to bring with it extra sensitivity. “I’m sorry, okay?! I’m freaking out over here! My balls are like a fucking cantaloupe!” The terrified redhead felt nauseous as he stared at their warped, funhouse reflections in the elevator doors, his fear making him slow to notice when the growth finally ceased a moment later. “Wait…I…I think it stopped…” he said quietly, as if he was afraid the throbbing organs would hear him and start up again.

William didn’t know what to say. Based on his best guess, they’d each stopped around the twenty-inch mark, growing so thick and wide in the process that the impossible appendages looked like a third leg. They were so heavy that they both had no choice but to hold them for support, and the stocky stud didn’t know whether it was worse to hold it out in front of him like a two-by-four, or clutch it against his chest like a trunk. The latter sent waves of pleasure through him as the demanding beast nestled against his silky pelt, but the former was too humiliating to even contemplate. “We can’t stay in here forever,” he finally said, pushing the knob back in to set the car in motion.

“Guess this is where we find out how people respond,” Peter said, his voice tinged with dread as they came to a stop. Like his friend, he clutched his heaping hose against himself, doing his best to ignore the sensation when the clear liquid finally reached a breaking point and began trickling down against his smooth shelf of a chest. They also quickly discovered that, while no one reacted with vociferous shock, their coworkers were no longer quite as casual. Now they received open glares and looks of disgust as they scampered towards Dylan’s office, their plump balls bouncing with each step.

The short trek from the elevator was torturous, and it only got worse when they arrived at their destination to find it empty. The door was open, but the lights were off and the younger man’s laptop and briefcase were missing, making it clear he was gone for the day.

“Fuck! What the fuck do we do now?!” William pounded a meaty fist on the desk, regretting the decision when the motion caused his plump pecs to stroke his increasingly aroused member.

“We can always call himmmmMMUUUHHH!” Peter broke off in a surprised gasp when he felt his clothing begin to shift. When his shirt disappeared earlier it had simply vanished without sensation, but something else appeared to be at work as his pants and underwear slithered against his skin. All the stunned stud could do was stare and watch the fabric meld and shift into a new configuration, his slacks and briefs becoming something akin to a whole-body jockstrap. A large panel of soft, gray fabric crept up to cover the bulk of his mammoth member and heaping balls, connected to straps that flowed over his shoulders above to join with a separate set that slipped up from below. The lower straps carried the front panel under and around to form a small back that at least partially covered his perky bubble, but otherwise Peter was entirely on display save for his socks and dress shoes.

William had become similarly clad next to him, save for the navy color of his harness. On his broader, bulkier frame the panel left more of his cresting muscle gut and impossible endowment on display in front, while in back it slipped between his ample cheeks to the point where the furry pumpkins were nearly unobscured. “Oh no…no no no no…” he groaned, dropping down into a nearby chair. Seated, his enlarged cock now topped out at face level, and William recognized the foolishness of his recent action as soon as his mouth drifted towards the glistening trunk.

“William! What…what’re you doing?!” Peter’s cry went unanswered as he watched the other man begin to lap furiously at his monolithic member, the sight sending his own body into motion. He was moving before he even realized it, bending down to unclasp William’s harness as he lowered himself into position. He groaned when the heavy organ thudded against him, grabbing it with both hands and running his tongue along the musky beast with a desperate frenzy. He knew this was the final stage of whatever it was Dylan and the Code Breaker had planned for them, but he didn’t realize the full extent until they were interrupted a few moments later.

“Oh, hey, sorry to butt in. You guys got time for a quick one?”

Peter looked up from William’s cock in a daze, his face and torso soaked in the other man’s flowing juices. In the doorway stood an older man they didn’t recognize, but whose business casual clothing and dangling badge told them he was a fellow employee. Through his shock, the kneeling ginger still recognized the strange way the man’s appearance hit him; how the meaty body straining against a polo and slacks made the altered hunk quiver, how badly he wanted to run his tongue along the smooth, ebony skin, and how he loved the newcomer’s short, salt-and-pepper hair. “Sure, come on in,” he said, his tone calm and casual instead of confused and panicked. As he climbed to his feet and shut the door he noticed the changes to their surroundings, how the desk and “office” trappings had been replaced by cushions and chairs. “What’s your name? I’m Peter.”

“Theo,” the man said, looking around. “You mind if I stand? I like it better that way.”

“Whatever you want,” William said, his cock slamming into the ground with a dull thud when he slid out of the chair and waddled over on his knees. “Through the fly or pants off?”

“We can let it all out,” Theo grinned, his eyes drooping when the younger pair went to work. Peter and William were on autopilot, gently undoing the older man’s pants and pulling them down along with his boxer briefs. The sight of Theo’s twitching cock should have been a turnoff for the formerly straight pair, but the plump organ held a magnetic attraction. “MMMmmmmmm…wow…this is…wow…” Theo stammered, his hands folded behind his head while the duo took turns working his impressive, though human-sized, cock. “Didn’t believe it at first when I heard this was being added as a perk around here, but what do you know? Heard it came about because of a whistleblower…can’t imagine what could’ve brought this up, but hell, I’m not complaining.”

Peter shot William a wide-eyed glance out of the corner of his eye, the older man’s cock wedged firmly in his mouth. The last part of the email had mentioned a “new position” for the both of them, but there was no way for them to see something like this coming. Just like there was no way to prepare themselves for the rush of memories that quickly followed. Both of their heads swam as they suddenly saw themselves walking around in public wearing nothing but shoes and the harnesses, the whole world accepting it even if it wasn’t seen as enitrely normal. In this new reality they’d been caught in their lies and had accepted their new endowments, and new roles at work, as punishment. Instead of targeting whistleblowers as they’d done with Dylan, now they just blew people, providing a much needed relief for the hardworking staff at the company.

In the off hours, their days of being hunky playboys were over as the pair now spent most of their time listening to the demands of their ravenous rods. They shared a small apartment, helping each other in and out of their harnesses while eagerly attempting to provide one another with the relief that was frustratingly difficult to achieve. The excessive size brought with it excessive sensitivity, but also excessive stamina, requiring excessive effort to reach the level of satisfaction that a few quick pumps used to provide.

“How…how many times can…can someone…come down here?” Theo’s question pulled the pair out of their reverie, just before his aching rod erupted all over their faces.

Peter licked his lips clean, loving the view from his knees as he gazed up at the older man. “Guys can come down here as often as they want, as long as they’re getting their work done,” he shrugged, looking over at William as his voice dropped to a low purr. “But how many times can they ‘cum’ down here? We love to find out.”