Interactive: Pikesburg PD, ch. 8 (Patreon)

Greg tore his arm away from the medallion, shaking his hand as if he’d just grabbed a hot stove.  The necklace was cool against his chest but he could see a red mark on his palm in the shape of the metal. The brand faded with the pain, though the message was clear.  

“I get it.  I can’t touch you,” Greg spat, surprised by how normal it already felt to be talking to someone who wasn’t actually there.  

“Oh, that wasn’t the lesson,” the voice laughed.  “Everyone struggles at first, even the ones who seek me out on purpose.  They all want my gift until they actually have it.  That’s how it went with Marcus, the gentleman you met in the alley the other evening.  He wanted to grow those muscles of his, but when I suggested a more interesting look, and I think we can all agree that he’s much more memorable in his current state, he tried to run.  As if he could.”  The voice’s tone expressed the exasperation its lack of a face couldn’t.  “It was me you spoke with that night.  Marcus didn’t take the medallion off, I let him remove it.  A willful host can be fun for a while, but the novelty quickly wears off.  When I sensed you prowling the neighborhood I seized on the opportunity.  We’re going to do great things together, you and I.”  

“The hell we are!”  Greg started to reach for the medallion again but stopped halfway.  “I’m not going to do anything you waaaaAAAUUUHHHHH!”  His protest was cut off when he tensed and spasmed out of nowhere.  He was so caught off guard that he was almost done by the time he even realized what was happening.  Without warning, an overwhelmingly intense orgasm ripped through him.  His cock had gone from soft to rock hard in a flash, pumping out load after load in his pants as he bellowed.  When he was spent, Greg’s toned chest heaved while he looked down at his lap in shock.  “Th...the fuck was that?!”  

“You mean you don’t remember your condition?”  The voice in his head asked, dripping with amusement.  

“What?  I don’t have a condition,” Greg stammered, trying to reconcile the dampness he felt at his crotch with his dry pants.  He squirmed in his seat, freezing when he felt an unaccustomed bulk in his underwear.  His hands shaking, he frantically undid the waist and pulled them open to reveal a pair of briefs that were stuffed far more than they should be.  His immediate thought was of Tank, but the lumpy bulge wasn’t an inflated cock.  It was an absorbent pad that had been shoved in the front.  He pulled out the sopping, diaper-like material and stared at it in disgust.  “What...what did you do…” 

“The question is what did YOU do,” the voice laughed.  “Or more importantly, what WILL you do.  That happens to you often, after all.”  

“No...it doesn’t!”  Greg’s stunned brain was slowly piecing together the implication, his face turning beet red at the thought of spontaneously orgasming in public.  “I’ve never even seen these before,” he cried, letting the damp pad fall to the ground.  

“Then why do you have so many with you?”  

Greg reached over and opened the glove box on impulse, his stomach dropping at the stack of pads waiting inside.  “No!  This...this isn’t real!”  

He imagined the voice would have shrugged if it had shoulders.  “You don’t have to use them, but things could get messy.  You tend to...produce...quite a bit.”  

The young ginger’s heart was a jackhammer in his chest.  No matter how much he wanted to deny it, he’d seen enough of the stranger’s work to know that, at least for now, this was his reality.  Greg tried to console himself with the fact that at least his body hadn’t been radically altered, but it was small comfort.  Wincing, he grabbed one of the new pads and wedged it into his briefs.  

“I expected more of a struggle,” the voice said, sounding disappointed.  

“After what you’ve shown me?”  It took all of Greg’s willpower to keep his thoughts focused on the rest of his shift.  As much as he wanted to panic, he knew the stranger could read his every thought.  

“You DO learn fast, don’t you?”  Greg could feel the unseen eyes sizing him up.  “I think this should prove to be an interesting partnership indeed.”  

“So what now?”  Greg pulled the car back onto the street and tried not to worry about when his next eruption would occur.  

“Now I rest,” the voice said, a weary note creeping in.  “Taking you for a spin requires quite a bit of effort at first.  And then there was the fun we had with Billy and your little lesson.  But don’t get any ideas.  If you try and remove the necklace, I’ll know.  For now, go about your life as usual.  You’ll know when I wake up.”  

“Who...what...are you?”  

The voice chuckled.  “You’re a smart one...show me what you can find while I rest.  Impress me and you’ll get a reward.”  

With that, Greg was alone.  The presence he’d been able to feel but not see vanished, leaving him to clutch the steering wheel with white knuckles.  The panic he’d been holding at bay rushed in as the full weight of his predicament washed over him.  He was stuck, bound to an entity that had the power to overwrite reality itself.  In the blink of an eye his life had been dramatically altered, just like his friends’ had.  Trying to grapple with the idea that something could mess with as foundational a concept as reality was overwhelming on its own, and that was before throwing in the knowledge that he’d be walking around blowing his load in front of everyone.  

Greg wondered if people would react like they did to Tank.  Would they think it was normal?  Or would they be horrified?  The fact that he had supplies in his cruiser was promising, but he knew there was only one way he’d find out for sure.  He wasn’t looking forward to it.  

By the time he pulled back into the station, he’d had two more spontaneous releases.  The first happened about forty five minutes after the initial change, but the next was only twenty minutes after that.  Greg didn’t like the idea that they were truly random, happening without any rhyme or reason, and despite their frequency, each one pumped out what felt like buckets.  He thought his body would start to run dry, but as it was he appeared to have a limitless supply.  Wanting to hide in his cruiser but knowing that wasn’t an option, he steeled himself and headed for the door.  

The band-aid was ripped off almost immediately.  He waved to a coworker on his way in, trying to act casual when it hit.  “Hey RichauuuuUUUHHHHhhhhh…!”  Greg halted in his tracks, his voice cracking in a hoarse whimper that rang throughout the station.  He wanted to crawl into a hole as his body stood rooted in place, jerking and spasming as his untouched cock spewed yet again.  It only took a few seconds, but it felt like hours.  He could see a handful of heads turn discreetly in his direction, while Richard, the officer he’d waved at, gave him a sympathetic look.  It was the kind of expression he’d seen directed at someone with a nervous tic or tourette’s, a look that made it clear everyone knew the behavior wasn’t normal, but was too polite to point it out.  

“Hey Greg,” the other officer said when the blushing ginger stopped spasming.  “How was the shift,” he asked, ignoring the fact that the younger man just came in his pants.  

“You know, the usual,” Greg said, forcing himself to remain calm.  No one else was freaking out, so despite the fact that he was purple with embarrassment he tried to act casual.  “Quiet as always over there.”  

Richard shook his head and rubbed his shoulder.  The other officer was a few years older than Greg and built about the same, but with the extra pounds that came with age.  He was still in better shape than most, but wasn’t the cut young stud he’d been in his earlier days.  “I’m a little jealous,” he said, oblivious to the irony of his statement.  “Guy nearly dislocated my shoulder when I was putting him in the cruiser tonight.  Not as spry as I used to be.”  

“If you ever wanna switch…” 

“Nah...that part of town creeps me out.  Wouldn’t mind the quiet, but…” he shrugged.  “I’ll stick with the drunks.”  

Greg forced a laugh to join in with Richard’s and made his way to his desk.  Like in the glovebox, he opened a drawer and found another stack of pads waiting for him.  He grabbed one and tried to be inconspicuous on his way to the locker room to clean up, feeling like he was carrying a glowing spotlight with him.  The damp pad already in his briefs felt like a full-fledged diaper and Greg wondered how obvious the padding was to everyone else.  He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary when he looked down at his waist, but was that part of it?  Did everyone else see a bulky lump?  He had no way of knowing.  

He tried not to think about it as he stepped up to the sink counter and undid his pants.  It occurred to him that he could be doing this in a stall, but his body was on autopilot, acting on a routine it knew before his brain did.  Though the locker room was empty, as soon as Greg had his fly open Austin walked in behind him.  

“Hey man,” the clean-cut brunette said, sliding over to a urinal.  He was a couple years younger and fresh on the force, and while Greg usually enjoyed the other man’s company, his timing couldn’t have been worse.   

“Hey dude,” Greg said, pulling the damp pad out of his briefs and throwing it in the garbage.  “You just coming in?”  

“Yeah, haven’t even made it out yet.  This schedule’s fuckin’ killing my social life,” the younger man sighed.  “Hard to get laid when you have to go in to work at…” 

“HHHNNNNNuuuhhhhhhh!”  Greg interrupted Austin with a loud grunt.  His briefs still pulled open to put another pad in, the mortified ginger’s cock shot free and sprayed all over the counter.  He watched the sticky fluid pile up in horror, equally humiliated at the thought of Austin watching his rigid pole spatter uncontrollably.  “Oh shit...sorry, man,” Greg panted awkwardly when he was done.  

“It’s cool...it, uh, happens,” Austin said as he put himself away.  “Shit, man, I was just gonna say my problem is the opposite of that,” he laughed.  

Greg shoved another pad in, his question from earlier answered when he looked at the reflection of his obviously padded briefs on display for his younger coworker.  He hadn’t expected another explosion so soon after the last one and frantically wiped up as much of the sticky fluid as he could.  “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” he said flatly.  

“Oh, hey, I wasn’t making fun,” Austin said quickly.  “I know you can’t help when that happens.”  

Greg didn’t know if he should be grateful for the other man’s understanding or furious for being patronized.  “It’s alright,” he said with another forced smile.  “I know it’s weird.  Believe me.”  

He pulled out his phone when Austin left and sent a text to Tank.  He didn’t want to go home alone and he didn’t know who else he could talk to about what was happening.  He had a small window to find out as much as he could, and he’d need all the help he could get.  

***** The following choices are less about specific transformations and more about which direction the story will branch off in. *****