Virtual (Patreon)

(the very start of this was posted as a vignette a few weeks ago, and I finally had a chance to finish it up.  Enjoy!) 

“YOU logged in, after all.  No one forced you to come here,” the voice said.  “The terms are spelled out very clearly.  We’re not liable because YOU didn’t read them.   Now, for $6,500 you can choose from one of our existing packages, or for $10,000 you can customize.  If, as you said, you’re unable to afford either of those options, we can open things up for auction.  Men like you do tend to fetch a high price.”

Justin couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  “Look...come on, now!  You can’t expect me to…this is all just a mistake!  I didn’t see any terms anywhere!  I thought this was just a porn site.  Sorry to have taken up your time, but if you’ll just let me…” He trailed off when a fifteen second countdown appeared on the wall in front of him.  “No!  Okay, listen, I don’t have the money in my account, but I can get it!  I just need to get out of here and I can get…”

Justin’s frantic pleas were interrupted by a loud buzzer.  “Auction it is,” the voice cheered.  As it spoke, a large chat window appeared where the countdown had been, and the dark-haired hunk’s stomach sank as he saw what appeared to be hundreds, if not thousands, of usernames scrolling rapidly by.  He blushed, trying not to think about the fact that each one represented a person who could see him standing in nothing but a thin undershirt and boxers, his athletic frame more accentuated by both than he’d like.  Justin tried to speak, but he found his mouth unresponsive as his arms seemed to lift of their own accord, outstretched from his sides while he began to rotate in a slow circle.  “Welcome friends, and thank you for coming.  As you can see, we have quite the specimen up for bid this evening.  Let me introduce our guest of honor, Justin!  He’s twenty eight years old, an M.BA. holder, and he works in project management,” the voice said, sounding like it was introducing a gameshow contestant.  “You can see for yourselves that he’s quite a looker with that lovely black hair and those brooding features.  But to get into the specifics - he’s 5’11” and 165 pounds of lean muscle.  The highest bidder will get to see the rest of his measurements, but, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, there looks to be quite a bit to work with.  As always, whoever wins will still be responsible for our standard rates.  With that, let the bidding begin!”

Justin had circled back around when the bidding started, and his stomach dropped when he saw the numbers people were throwing around.  The very first bid was for $15,000, which was quickly doubled by the next user only seconds later.  By the time his slow rotation had brought him full circle once more the highest bid was $750,000, and while a small part of his ego swelled at the thought of someone spending that much money based solely on his looks, he dreaded the implication.  No one would shell out three quarters of a million dollars at a date auction, which meant they had something much worse in mind.  He tried to remember what he’d heard about the site, but all he knew was that it supposedly housed stuff that couldn’t be seen anywhere else.  It was supposed to be incredible to watch with a VR headset, almost as good as the real thing, he’d read.  The price tag for admission was daunting, but again, Justin knew you could find anything on the internet.  When he’d found the admission code it had a warning to use at your own risk, and now he was starting to understand why.  He never thought simply logging onto a website would somehow land him in the role of performer instead of spectator, and he still didn’t understand how it was even possible.  He was wearing his VR goggles in his apartment; he didn’t know how he was feeling and hearing things like he was actually experiencing them, nor did he understand how anyone else could see him.  He kept trying, but whenever he touched his head he couldn’t feel any goggles at all, and there was nothing but an infinite sea of white surrounding him.  He had a sliver of hope that it was all just an elaborate set up, but that didn’t explain how the program rendered him in his current outfit, or how it knew so much about him.

He had his back turned when the winning bidder was announced.  “Going once…going twice…sold!  For $1.2 million!  Congratulations, Justin, on fetching one of our highest amounts this month, and congratulations BlckGldBooty on your acquisition.  The rest of you, please feel free to enjoy the rest of our site, or check out one of our other auctions.  There are quite a few choices this evening, so don’t be shy.”

Justin stopped rotating, but he still couldn’t speak as the chat window vanished. His heart raced as he stood, immobile, listening to one side of a conversation he was helpless to stop.  “Congratulations again on your win, BlckGldBooty.  Now, did you want a prepared option or…custom!  Great!  I can see that the funds have already been transferred, so we’re good to get started.  How would you like to…ah, yes, the dancer option.  Always a classic.  Did you want him to just strip, or did you want to see everything in action?  In action, yes, of course.”

Justin winced and started when the white void around him vanished without warning, replaced by a loud, bustling club.  To his horror, he wasn’t in the crowd but up on stage, staring out at a sea of expectant faces.  Now that he was in a simulated environment, the horrible realism stood out even more.  He could feel the smooth stage beneath his feet, and could smell the musky cloud of sweat mingling with alcohol that hung in the humid air.  When his feet began moving of their own accord, taking him close to the edge of the stage, Justin wanted to scream when he felt actual hands brushing against his feet and calves, but all he could do was smile and purse his lips.

He raged internally as the music grew louder and he began swaying his hips.  Instead of jumping off the stage or covering himself he folded his arms behind his head, licking his impressive biceps while he bounced his cock against the front of his boxers.  He tried to convince himself that the thick hose wasn’t actually starting to harden as he turned and bounced his perky bubble, his hands slipping down to grip his collar.  When he turned back around he tore the thin shirt off at the same time, his chiseled pecs and washboard abs flexing with the motion.  He wanted to look horrified, but Justin batted his eyes and flashed a smug grin as he traced a finger through the dark, wiry dusting on his prominent chest, circling around his pert little nipples before gliding down the light trail of hair bisecting his abs.  When he reached his boxers he hooked his thumbs in the waist, pulling them out as far as they’d go to the sides, teasingly lowering the left half, then the right, before letting it snap back.  He pushed them down to just above the base of his cock, exposing his trim bush as he bunched the legs to show off his muscled quads and heft his girthy package.  Justin tried in vain to stop himself as he bounced the twitching hose and gave it a squeeze, urging it to continue the tent it was building in his boxers.  He didn’t let go until he was at full mast, and when he did it was only to push the back down over his firm bubble, leaving the boxers precariously perched on his eight inch pole.

Justin felt like he was in a nightmare.  Everything was in the same vivid details as the dreams where he’d find himself naked during a board presentation, but even in his wildest dreams he’d never shucked his boxers and started jerking off before.  He wagged his solid pole around as he stepped out of the boxers and winged them into the crowd, giving the air a seductive thrust before fully going at himself.  He stroked and tugged at first, but his technique began to take on a more adventurous edge as he held his fists stationary and jackhammered into them with his hips.  The crowd going wild, he deep-throated a set of fingers while bucking into his hand like a rutting bull, the whole time moaning and whimpering in a fit of ecstasy.  Justin tried to hold back when he felt himself approaching the edge, but it was a futile effort as he erupted a few moments later, spraying harder than he ever had before.

The force of the release was overwhelming, and it took a moment for the stunned hunk to realize the bustling club had vanished.  He was still naked, his thick hose softening after the recent release, but he was back to the white, infinite void where he’d started.

“I agree…worth every penny,” the voice said.  “And now that you’ve seen where you’re starting…what would you like to change?”  For Justin, the brief moment of silence that followed seemed to last an eternity.  He kept telling himself it was all just a VR simulation, and that no matter how real it felt, his body wasn’t actually changing.  “Of course.  With a name like that, I should have guessed,” the voice laughed.

Justin didn’t find things so funny.  The naked stud felt a sudden pressure, accompanied by a horrifying new weight at his backside.  Before he could even question what happened, his fears were confirmed when his arms began to move of their own accord once more, reaching back to grip and heft the inflated mountains where his perky bubble should have been.  Instead of terror-stricken, his face was a seductive mask of pursed lips and narrowed eyes as he clapped the impossibly large cheeks together, the jiggling ripples sending darts of pleasure shooting up his spine.

“Large enough?” the voice asked.  “We can go bigger if…no?  This is good then?  Fantastic.  Now, for the reduction, you said you wanted three inches?  Of course!  We can absolutely do two-and-a-half.  We can be as precise as you require.”

Justin braced himself for what he assumed was an impending loss of height.  When the tingling broke out between his legs, it turned out to be much worse.  Helpless to do anything other than stare, he watched his thick hose twitch before drawing up and in, pulling his rapidly deflating balls with it.  It was over in seconds, leaving the formerly hung stud with a tiny nub poking out beneath his ripped washboard, barely visible between his muscled thighs.

As Justin tried to wrap his head around his chunky-bottomed, micro-dicked new frame, the conversation continued.  “I agree, he’s quite stunning like this.  Especially with those features.  Normally we have to tweak the face to get someone to look like that, but this one came pre-packaged, as it were.  Did you want any other…no?  Just the scenario, then?  Ah, yes.  The ‘Wrestling Rookie’ will fit quite nicely, I agree.  Give us just a moment to get things loaded.  While we wait, let me take this moment to thank you again for your purchase.  Please enjoy the show.”

Justin winced, his vision overwhelmed by another blinding flash.  Instantly, eyes still full of stars, he could smell the musky aroma of sweat and body odor, and he could feel the straining spandex clinging to his athletic frame like a second skin.  When he could finally see again, Justin found himself blinking at a stern-faced, singlet-clad bruiser.  A quick glance around revealed that the ivory void had been replaced by a small, pungent room lined with mats and mirrors.  In addition to the chiseled jock currently glaring at him, six similarly dressed young men sat off to the side.  They were a motley mix of stocky muscle and lean bulk, the only two things they seemed to have in common being their stuffed bulges and the expectant looks they were currently giving Justin.  The dazed stud had time for one brief stab of embarrassment when he felt a rush of air on the exposed portions of his mammoth cheeks that had spilled out the bottom of his singlet, and at the sight of his barely visible lump when he looked down.

“What are you waiting for, rookie,” the granite ginger across from him barked.  “Assume the position!”

Justin’s stomach fluttered at the other man’s commanding tone.  He dropped to his knees, gasping at the way his inflated pillows shook with the motion and frantically trying to process what he knew was about to happen.  When he’d been in college, as the men around him, with their University-branded singlets, appeared to be, Justin had been a baseball player, not a wrestler.  But the warped jock reminded himself that he’d never been a stripper either, and that hadn’t stopped him from spraying like a firehose in front of a crowd a few minutes earlier.  It also hadn’t stopped him from loving every second of it.  And as the buzzed, freckled stud draped himself across his back, Justin knew he was going to enjoy this just as much, whether he normally would have or not.  As soon as he felt the other man’s solid pecs against his back, the strangers breath hot on his neck, his warped body was on fire.  It was taking every ounce of his willpower not to press back against the other man’s bulge with his squished cheeks, though his priorities rapidly shifted when the bell rang.

All at once, they became a flurry of limbs.  Justin tried his best to keep up, but his coordination hadn’t changed in time with his altered center of gravity, leaving the normally agile stud flailing.  The fact that his attention kept shifting to the sensation of the other man’s smooth skin against his hands, or the warmth of the stranger’s hefty package whenever he’d get an unintentional squeeze, only made things worse.  Nor did it help when his singlet was wedged upwards between his clapping cakes, fully exposing them for the grinning jocks on the sidelines.  When it was over, Justin was pinned on his back, his hole just barely covered as his legs were held in the air, his shaking melons pointing in the direction of the group.

Before he could say anything, the smug redhead pinning him to the mat raised an eyebrow and let his legs drop.  The motion caused the minuscule tent in his singlet to become apparent, much to the arrogant jock’s delight.  “Are you hard right now, rookie?” he barked, drawing everyone’s attention to Justin’s little lump.

The dark-haired hunk sat up, scrambling for a response.  “What?  No!  I mean, I’m nooouuuhh…” he broke off in a groan when the shredded ginger reached down and gave his shrunken equipment a squeeze, easily swallowing the entirety of his package in one meaty hand.  Justin hated the way he bucked instinctively, grinding the little rod into the other man’s calloused palm.

“Sure feels like you are,” the man spat, giving another rough squeeze before letting go.  “What?  You think just because it’s so small no one’ll notice?  That why you signed up, rookie?  To get a look at some real meat?”  Justin’s tormentor stood up and backed away as he spoke, grabbing the outline of his own thick cock snaking off to the side.  “Well?  If you wanna see ours, you gotta show us yours,” he said, reaching out and flicking the straps of the dazed man’s singlet over his broad shoulders.

“O…okay…” Justin’s pecs heaved, his hands trembling as he reached up and worked the singlet the rest of the way down his tapering torso.  He knew he shouldn’t want to, that it was all part of whatever scenario he’d been dropped into, but he did.  Desperately.  He was embarrassed at the impending reveal of his tiny poker, but the looming humiliation was only a confusing turn on.  Justin squirmed at the thought of the hung jocks laughing at his little package, making him throb so hard a bead of liquid was visible at the tip of his nub when he stood and kicked the singlet free.

Standing with his fattened ass and shrunken, leaking cock on display, Justin couldn't remember a time when he’d been more aroused.  He searched the faces of the grinning wrestlers, his eyes slowly traveling over each and every inch of their muscled frames, inevitably landing on the outlined packages that made his ridiculously small equipment seem even more pointless by comparison.

“Hey!  This isn’t a peepshow, rookie,” one of them, a stocky, hairy brunette with what looked like a grapefruit wedged in his singlet, finally barked.  He hopped to his feet and lumbered over, giving Justin’s jiggling bottom a rough slap.  “You want it, you gotta earn it.”

“So what is it,” the redhead asked.  “Do you want it?”

Justin looked back and forth between the stocky bulldog and the freckled adonis, swallowing hard.  He nodded, too addled to be embarrassed by the words that left his mouth.  “Uh-huh,” he choked.

The short, broad one reached down and gave the little cock a tap with his stubby finger.  “What was that, rookie?”

“Yes!” Justin yelled, his whimpering voice hoarse with desire as it echoed around the small room.  The two wrestlers exchanged an amused glance, then looked back at their friends.  The outlined bulges were starting to twitch and grow, a sight that made Justin’s mouth water.

“Then assume the position,” the redhead said, nodding back to the mat.  Justin dropped in a flash, his fingers digging into the ground when the other man knelt behind him.  He could see himself and the group reflected in the mirrored wall in front of him, and he knew what was coming as the man began clapping his cheeks together, but he still grunted and arched his back when the fingers slipped inside.  It was a reflex, an unstoppable response to the electric bliss that began coursing through him.  Justin knew he was watching himself get fingered by a pair of college jocks, just as he knew the other wrestlers weren’t the real audience he was performing for, but none of that dulled his ecstasy.  He briefly wondered if the others were real people like himself, or if they were just part of the program, but it quickly became a moot point when he saw the redhead begin to worm out of his singlet.

This time, there was no flailing when the bell rang.  Justin’s nostrils flared and he gave a huffing grunt when the ginger stud plunged inside, his eyes going wide.  He had just enough time to appreciate the sight of the other man’s sculpted chest and ripped abs flexing as he rolled his hips before the thrusting jock reached down and pulled him upright.  Justin stared at the reflection of his bouncing pecs and tiny, leaking button as the other man pumped away, his plump cheeks bouncing wildly, but this view was also obscured when the stocky jock stepped in front of him.  Justin opened his mouth and leaned forward, following the overriding impulse to get the beefy stud’s fat cock in his mouth.

As soon as his soft lips wrapped around the pulsing organ, the others were around him.  With a smooth, practiced precision, Justin reached out and began pumping away on the waiting poles, losing himself in the sea of aching cocks and musky muscle.  His world narrowed to the rotating lineup of spit-slick organs, to the point where he even began to lose track of who was inside him.  The group tagged out frequently, taking turns as they went at the warped hunk from all sides.  The sound of their deep voices constantly mocking his fat, bouncing ass and pitiful cock hit Justin like a tsunami of lust, obliterating the whole of his ample hookup history.  He’d never felt anything like the swirling mix of emotions currently surging through him, and whether it was due to the program or something that had been unlocked inside himself, he didn’t care.  He just didn’t want it to stop.

And it didn’t.  Not for hours, at least.  Justin was taken from every conceivable angle, his little cock possessing seemingly endless stamina as he sprayed over and over but somehow kept going.  The same could be said for the men around him as they soaked him to the bone with one potent eruption after another.  At some point they’d made their way into the locker room, fucking Justin senseless as he lay on a bench with his legs in the air, or as his face was pressed into the wet, tiled wall of the shower.  The whole time his inflated pillows were a constant sea of motion, amplifying the pleasure he felt until Justin was begging them not to stop.

And then, without warning, it was over.  Instead of the smooth, male voice he’d hear earlier, a harsh, computerized tone indicated that the scenario was finished, leaving Justin’s battered hole achingly empty.  There was no infinity room this time, either, only a black void and the familiar sensation of goggles on his face.

Justin could feel a hard floor beneath him, but whether it was the smooth wood of his apartment or the tile of a locker room, he didn’t know.  He swore he could still feel the phantom warmth of the sticky fluid clinging to his torso, but he was too overwhelmed to know if the sensation was real or just in his head.  His overloaded brain couldn’t even tell if he was still dressed or not.

He stayed on the floor, afraid to move as he caught his breath.  If he moved, he might feel something different, something he shouldn’t, which would make everything he just went through real.  The thought made his stomach flutter at the memory of the jackhammering jocks he’d just experienced, and Justin couldn’t decide if that possibility was a good thing or a bad thing.  He told himself it was only the lingering shock of what he just went through, but at the moment, he didn’t hate the idea of taking his fat cakes and little cock with him.  It shouldn’t have been possible, but then again, nothing he’d just experienced should have been either.  He’d just felt pleasure the likes of which he’d never even imagined, and whether his body had actually been changed or not, a door had been opened that he doubted he’d ever be able to shut again.

Bracing himself for what he might find, Justin reached up and pulled the goggles free.