Interactive: Climbing the Ladder, ch. 12 (Patreon)

“Timmy!  ‘Bout time you showed up.  You get lost on the way over again?”  

“Sorry Mike!” Benton chirped, the same dull grin plastered on his face that had been there since his “field work” began.  He bristled internally at the burly man’s condescending tone, his head spinning as he tried to adjust to having his thoughts move at a glacial pace.  As soon as his “day shift” ended, Benton suddenly found himself out of step with the world around him.  Everyone seemed to be speaking and moving at an impossibly fast pace, leaving him lucky if he caught every third word.  It was torture.  Far worse than getting up on stage in front of a crowded club and flaunting his altered body was having his normally agile mind blunted and his dominant personality replaced by a cheerful, giggling haze.  

Physically, he looked the same.  Benton had the same wavy brown hair and the same handsome, distinguished features.  His body was still ruggedly athletic, with ample, defined muscles coated in a light dusting of hair, and he still had the massive cheeks and limp cock that were his signature.  The sight of such an otherwise perfect picture of middle-aged masculinity bouncing and twerking a set of jiggling mountains while his thick, limp hose swung wildly drew spectators from far and wide.  He was already a hit, even though he’d never actually done any of the things he now remembered.  

It was a hard concept to wrap his head around when he had full use of his brain, and in his current state it was nearly impossible.  This splinter reality had just been brought into his own, a warp in the fabric of space and time that hadn’t existed on his current timeline until Upper Management plucked it from the aether and decided to overlap it with his own.  Even now Benton knew he was straddling the divide between two worlds, his memories split between both, and one misstep could leave him stranded.  He was still Tim Benton, wealthy corporate executive, but he was also Timmy, the chipper go-go daddy who loved making his audience happy.  Walking through the door for the first time was humiliating for Benton, but Timmy was practically vibrating with excitement.  

“S’okay big guy,” Mike said, coming out from behind the bar.  The bald, lumbering bartender was a wall of bulky muscle, his slab of a chest and wide ‘roid gut on full display as his shirt hung from the back of his plastered-on jeans.  “I know you do your best,” he said, reaching down and slipping a large, rough hand into the back of Benton’s shorts.  “You’re carryin’ a lot of weight around.”  

Benton hated the sound of his giggle as he leaned into the other man’s embrace and let Mike work the back of his shorts down.  He knew he should have been mortified at having his pillow cheeks exposed in such a public fashion, but all he felt was grateful to not have the tight shorts constricting his movement.  As soon as he’d left the HB&L campus his usual suit and tie had vanished, replaced by a loose, skimpy muscle shirt and a pair of mesh shorts that were ridiculously small around his sturdy quads and impossible ass.  He’d thought he’d felt a jockstrap underneath, and that theory that was confirmed when Mike snapped one of the straps.  

Instead of pulling away when he saw the heads at the bar turning in his direction, Benton grinned and slowly pulled the bright muscle shirt free, flexing his athletic torso seductively in the process.  He smiled at the men as they watched, pursing his lips and bending slowly to pull the shorts free until all he wore were his bright sneakers and cobalt jock.  

“Right to it?  That’s what I appreciate about you, Timmy,” Mike laughed, giving Benton’s cheeks a rough slap that sent them into a flurry of motion.  The addled executive winced internally but laughed back as he wove his way across the room, swaying his hips to keep his bouncing pumpkins moving.  He climbed up on his small podium and ran his hands up through the trail of hair on his abs and along his chiseled pecs, toying with his solid little nipples as he swayed and gyrated.  

Benton knew there was no point in fighting.  He was dealing with forces well beyond his control and the only thing he could hope for now was to get to the bottom of the saboteur issue.  He tried to focus on that instead of the hungry, leering faces and the scattering of bills that he could no longer recognize the value of.  He knew it was money, but numbers and letters were beyond him in his current state.  So was trying to strategize.  With his limited faculties he could barely remember what he was trying to think about in the first place, let alone formulate a plan.  

That was the point.  He wasn’t supposed to think about anything other than his field work.  He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about his day job, he was supposed to be focused on the way his soft, useless bulge flopped around as he twerked and popped his hips.  He was supposed to be aware of the countless hands groping and squeezing, not be thinking about how a few hours ago he had more money than everyone in the room combined.  He’d have it again in another few hours, unless Upper Management changed their minds.  

Benton had no idea how much time had passed when Mike came over with a young man in tow.  All Benton could think about was how the young man looked like the guys on his staff, guys he was normally in charge of.  All Timmy could think about was how attractive and fit he was with his muscled torso straining against his tight shirt.  He couldn’t have been out of his early twenties, but it was clear he wouldn’t be bossing this young man around.  “Hey, Timmy, we got a birthday special here,” the bald bull said with a wink.  “Private though, not public this time.”  

“Oh, boo,” Benton pouted, a fresh wave of humiliation hitting him when he realized how disappointed he was at the thought of not being fucked in public.  He hopped off the podium and took the young man by the hand, his dull grin returning.  “That’s okay!  We’ll still make it special,” he cooed, pulling the athletic brunette to a small back room.  He guided the young man to a chair but was cut off when he started to open his mouth.  

“You don’t have to talk,” the young man said, his eyes devouring Benton’s rugged frame.  “No offense.  You look just like my boss, I mean, I wish he had that ass, but the whole airhead thing kinda ruins it.”  

Benton fumed, but Timmy just smiled and nodded silently as he started swaying his hips under the seated stranger’s stroking hands.  He turned his back and folded his beefy arms behind his head, letting the handsome young man bounce and clap his oversized cheeks before reaching around to knead his soft, aching cock.  

“Wish you really were him,” the young man muttered, pulling Benton down so that he was grinding directly against his lap.  “Telling everyone what to do all the time...bet he’d fuckin’ love this too...want some figures...how’s eight inches sound…” 

He gasped when the young man slipped a hand into the front of his jock and began kneading his girthy package.  He could feel the seated man’s cock hard and throbbing through his tight jeans and hated how he wiggled his hips to root for it like a nursing infant.  Benton knew the young man wasn’t really one of his employees, but it was too coincidental to be random.  This was Upper Management driving home what could be his permanent role if he didn’t get his act together.  

“Bet his fat cock doesn’t work either,” the young man said, wiping Benton’s oozing precum against the older man’s hairy chest when he pulled his hand free.  “Good thing mine does…” 

“OOHHHHHHH!”  Benton couldn’t suppress a howl when the young stud fished his rigid pole free and thrust it inside.  His rotund cheeks swallowed the pulsing organ in a vacuum seal as the young man reached up to clutch his pecs and began bucking his hips.  

“There’s a sound you can make,” the smug hunk sneered, jamming his long cock deep into the older man.  “Let’s hear you like that in the morning meetings…” 

Benton heard himself moaning and groaning, but he was beyond humiliation.  He could feel himself soaking his jock and was painfully aware of the rough denim on the backs of his thighs as the young man used him like a living sex toy, but the pleasure was more than his hazy brain could handle.  He bounced and howled, grunting and wide eyed, until he didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t anymore.  The sensation should have terrified him, but all he could do was beg for more.  

**********

“Hey man,” Shawn waved at Cayden, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt before the door had finished closing behind him.  He let out a loud sigh of relief when he pulled them both free and dropped his pants, not giving his cum-stained bikini briefs a second thought.  

Cayden looked up from his tablet and watched his friend strip with a hungry grin.  He was wearing one of Eric’s shirts, the large tank-top fitting his short, stocky frame like a gown as he stretched out on their connected beds.  “Long day?” 

“They all are,” Shawn said as he sprawled next to Cayden, throwing an arm around the short man’s shoulders.  “Fuuuuuck I’m exhausted.  Duncan’s been riding me extra hard lately…” 

“I thought you were the one riding him?”  

“That’s part of the problem!  Dude is insatiable.  Between him giving me assignments at the office and in his room I can’t catch a break.”   

Cayden rolled over in a quick blur of motion, his furry thighs straddling Shawn’s tight waist as he sat back on the other man’s twitching bikinis.  “Want me to help you relax?” he asked, his stubby fingers stroking his friend’s solid chest.  

Shawn grinned and ran his hands up along Cayden’s legs to give his ample little cheeks a squeeze.  “Yeah, but maybe we do this later? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Duncan just wore me out, man.  I kinda want to go for a run.”  

Cayden didn’t bother to hide his look of disappointment.  He rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, flexing his solid bicep, before sliding off Shawn’s lap.  “Fiiiine,” he sighed, hopping off the bed and pulling the draping shirt free.  “But you know my tiny ass legs can’t keep up.”  

“I’ll go slow,” Shawn laughed, loving the sight of his friend’s burly little body stuffed into his tiny briefs.  He was hard and aching in his bikinis as Cayden slipped into a pair of little shorts, but if they started going at it now he knew they wouldn’t do anything else for the rest of the night.  

“You better...I’m not about to be left in those creepy woods by myself,” Cayden warned, looking up at Shawn.  

Shawn pulled on a pair of obviously tented, paper thin running shorts and tousled Cayden’s hair.  “Wouldn’t dream of it big guy.”  

Cayden grinned bashfully, his head reaching the middle of Shawn’s chest as he stared up at his friend.  “Should we see if Eric wants to come?”  

“Sure,” Shawn nodded, happy to have the lumbering ginger along.  He loved the sight of the big man’s meaty cheeks bouncing and jiggling as much as he loved Cayden’s.  “He’s slow too so he can keep you company.”  

“Fuck off,” Cayden squeaked.  “Keep that up and you’re on your own later.”  

“As if you’d punish yourself like that,” Shawn said, grinding his tented bulge into the other man’s furry pecs.  “How about I make it up to you when we get back?”  

“Unless Duncan snags you first,” Cayden sighed.  

Shawn peeked his head out the door to make sure the hulking man wasn’t around before they slipped out towards Eric’s room.  He kept thinking about Duncan’s mention of a “special project” that could be coming his way, but he was starting to doubt it would be one that worked out in his favor.  “I sure hope not,” he said, a knot in his stomach.   

*** This next round of voting is more about which direction the story will take rather than specific changes, but don't worry, we'll get to those! ***