The Mask of Sho-Yog, ch. 2 (Patreon)

“What is it?”

“Not sure yet.  Doesn’t feel like it’s going to explode.”  Mike gently turned the small parcel over in his hands, trying to ignore the way Brant’s squeaky voice made his stomach flutter.  He was having a hard enough time focusing as it was.  When the unexpected knock came at the door a few moments prior, Mike had to force himself out of his partner’s arms.  Given the context of their situation he knew every second counted, that the unusual visitor first thing in the morning was a potential lead he was squandering by leaving his head buried in Brant’s perfect pecs.  He knew he was wasting an opportunity, but all he really wanted was to keep the other man’s thick log wedged against him until he could have it inside once more.  And when he did finally manage to pry himself away he didn’t even think to put anything on, throwing open the door to his apartment with his naked, erect bulk on full display for his elderly neighbor who just happened to be heading out for breakfast at that moment.  He’d quickly tried to cover himself as he grabbed the non-descript bundle of brown paper and cardboard, but the damage had been done.  “Feels light, whatever it is.”

Brant walked over and rested his hand on the small of Mike’s back, just above the other man’s meaty, furry rear.  “But it’s from them, isn’t it?”

“Who else would be leaving us a present,” the brawny man grunted, instinctively rooting back with his rear at the blonde’s touch.  He gingerly tore the exterior paper free to reveal what looked like a burgundy shoebox, free from any markings that he could see on the outside.  He inspected the seams and edges before lifting the lid, his gut telling him that it wasn’t trapped but his groggy brain still acting on instinct.  Inside, a thick sheet of paper sat atop a small bundle, the message addressed to both of them when Mike unfolded the parchment.  “It’s an address.  Says we can show up whenever if we want to talk to them.  The rest is apparently a gift for you, but I’m not sure how excited you’re going to be.”

Brant’s eyes went wide when Mike held up a small burgundy sleeve with gold-trimmed edges and a matching pair of sandals.  “And what am I supposed to do with those exactly?”

“If the letter’s telling the truth, when you slip this sleeve over your junk it’ll make it so everyone thinks your current circumstances are normal.  Even the weather.  Hot or cold, sunny or rainy, you’ll be perfectly fine.  And I guess the sandals won’t disappear.”  Mike had to read the letter again, his logical brain still struggling to accept the reality of magic and extra-dimensional forces.

“Well that’s, uh, something I guess,” Brant said, his embarrassed grin fading when Mike abruptly grabbed a chair and hurled it across the room.  He’d seen the bigger man worked up plenty of times in the past but never like this.  His partner’s broad shoulders slumped, his breath coming fast and heavy like a huffing bull as he balled his fists at his side and glared down at the box.

Brant let him fume for a few moments before putting a tentative hand on his back.  “Are you okay?  I thought you were just burnt out, but this clearly feels like something else.”

Mike didn’t know how to respond.  He opened and closed his mouth without speaking several times before finally giving a defeated shrug.  “I can’t figure any of this.  It’s too big.  We’re supposed to be catching deadbeats and cheating spouses, not dealing with whatever the hell this is.  Look at us!  You got all…like that…and I can’t stop thinking about it.  About you.  About having this inside me,” Mike barked, turning to face Brant and wrapping a hand around the other man’s thick cock.  “And not just you.  My ass screams at me whenever I pass a guy on the street.  All I can think about is what they’d feel like, and how long they’d last, and what it would take to make it happen, to the point where I can barely remember what I was supposed to be doing in the first place,” he cried, grabbing his cheeks and spreading them wide as he spoke.  “Something got knocked loose inside me and I don’t know how to put it back.  I don’t think I even want to.  That should bother me, right?  I’ve been a tough guy my whole life, so I shouldn’t want another man fucking me senseless all the time, right?  But I don’t care.  Not only do I NOT care, it’s like I can’t.  I’ve tried.  I’ve tried to muster some kind of concern and all I get is turned on instead.  I should be pounding the pavement until my feet are bleeding trying to find a way to fix you, but I don’t want to.  I think you’re perfect.  Better than perfect.  What kind of partner does that make me?  For fuck’s sake, look at my dick right now!  Useless thing’s ready to pop!  Maybe it should?  What good is it anymore anyway?”

“Oooookay big guy, take a breath,” Brant said, wrapping his arms around his burly friend.  He felt the other man tense at first, but it wasn’t long before Mike’s ample muscle sagged against him.  “You’re right.  This is a lot.  Clearly I don’t know what the fuck to make of it either, but if it’s any consolation I…I don’t hate it.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s freaky as all hell.  I’d rather not sound like a helium-huffing smurf, and these tits and this ass are a lot to get used to, but at the same time it’s…I don’t know…fun?  I don’t feel bad is what I’m trying to say.  If we can’t undo this…” he trailed off and lifted Mike’s stubble-covered chin to meet his gaze.  “You can also be a big tough strong guy AND like riding dick at the same time.  You can even make out with other big tough strong guys and not have to give up your license,” he squeaked, leaning in for a long, slow kiss.

Mike felt the tears running down his face but he kept his tongue buried in Brant’s mouth.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried in front of another man and it made him feel more exposed and vulnerable than when he actually did have a dick inside him.  His friend had said everything he needed to hear, but more than being comforting the words left him adrift, the already tenuous grip on his previous identity loosening further.  Not only was he turned on by, fucked by, and kissed by other men, now they brought him to tears.  “What…what do we do,” he finally asked, sniffling.  The question marked another shift as Mike was always the one to come up with a plan, but the blubbering bruiser couldn’t muster the motivation.

Brant stroked his partner’s salt-and-pepper scalp as the older man composed himself.  Even though he was just as caught off guard by the unexpected display of emotion, his sympathetic smile never crossed into pity.  The old Brant wouldn’t have known how to respond, but the new one recognized his friend’s vulnerability for the gift that it was.  Just as Mike had said, the curvy blonde’s view of the world, and his place therein, was undergoing an equally profound shift in perspective.  He’d always been quick to get naked and hop from bed-to-bed, but now that he had his exaggerated proportions and endless stamina what he really craved was the kind of connection he shared with his partner.  “I say we meet with ‘em.  They could clearly get us if they wanted to, and you’re going to lose your mind if you keep this up.  You said they’re everywhere anyway…let’s put that theory to the test.”

“Just march right into the lion’s den?”  Mike grinned, a surge of his old confidence returning.  Instead of being further broken and embarrassed by his outburst he was starting to feel clear-headed for the first time in days, like all the energy he’d been using to fight their circumstances was diverting back to the proper flow once he considered the possibilities of embracing them instead.

“March right OUT is more like it.  Kinda feels like we’re already there,” Brant said, giving Mike a quick peck on his weathered forehead before letting go and taking a step back.

The bigger man rubbed his face and gave his cheeks a few light slaps as he turned to the bundle on the table.  “And what if we end up like Bryan and Chad?”

“I’ve been thinking about that.  The video you showed me…they sure didn’t look upset, or like they weren’t enjoying themselves.  As someone who’s undergone a similar experience, I wonder if they’d actually want our help right now.”  Brant raised his hands and kept speaking before Mike could interject.  “I know how that sounds.  But I didn’t ask for any of this either, and even I’m not so sure I’d want to give it up if I could.  It’s hard to explain.  It just feels…right.”

Mike grunted and folded his arms across his chest.  “Which is exactly what someone who’s been brainwashed into joining a cult would say.”

“Right?  I told you…I know how it sounds.  But it’s not like that.  I don’t want to ‘join’ anyone, and I still clearly remember how my life was and would continue to be had we not crossed paths.  What I’m not sure of, though, is whether or not my life SHOULD be the way it was.  What’s so wrong with this?”  Brant spread his arms wide and turned in a slow circle, giving his fattened cheeks a shake in the process.  “I look and sound weird, but I’m perfectly healthy.  I feel great, actually.  So what’s the harm?  You and me got into this business because we wanted to help people, and as crazy as it might sound I think I still can like this.  Just in a different way.  The things you’ve been feeling around me…I don’t know how I know…but I think I can make other people feel the same way.  Unburdened.  Authentic.  Like MY weirdness is some kinda catalyst for their own shit.  I don’t know…” he trailed off and shook his head, a surprised grin spreading across his pretty features.  “Shit.  I think I just had a breakthrough.”

“And I think I’m getting jealous,” Mike sighed.  “The more things change…”

“You’ll always be number one, big guy,” Brant cooed.  He gave the other man’s furry slab a light pat as he reached down and picked up the burgundy sleeve.  “Gonna feel reeeeaaaaal strange walking around in public like this.”

“We don’t have to test it this very second, do we,” Mike asked, putting a hand on the blonde’s wrist.

It was well past noon by the time they got around to testing the mysterious items.  After a vigorous pair of hours where Brant wore the burly stud out several times over, they spent the rest of the morning lounging together and simply enjoying the experience of being together.  Neither of them wanted to say it out loud, but both men were very much aware that this could be the last time they ever had such an opportunity, at least in their current iterations.  Anything, literally, could happen when they confronted the cultists, and though Brant’s gut told him it would all work out for the best, the warped blonde hadn’t become so naive as to fully bank on that outcome.  So they savored the moment, and each other, for as long as they could before cleaning themselves up and heading out to face whatever lay in store.

The initial results were promising as the sleeve and sandals appeared to do exactly what the letter indicated.  A pair of Mike’s neighbors were in the hallway when they left the older man’s apartment, but all the other two did upon seeing Brant’s curvy, exposed frame was give a friendly nod as if nothing at all was out of the ordinary.  For his part, the bottom-heavy blonde blushed from head to toe as he felt his rotund cheeks and rigid log bouncing and wagging in the open air.  He tensed whenever someone approached, expecting that to be the moment when everything fell apart, but that moment never came.  Even when they made it out onto the bustling sidewalk, all anyone did was eye the handsome hunk in the same manner that people always had.

“Oh this is wiiiiiild,” Brant laughed, shaking his head.  He reached up and rubbed at one of his bare pecs, surprised at how much the forced exhibitionism was turning him on.  “I can’t believe this actually works.”

“And the temperature,” Mike asked, his eyes searching the faces of everyone they passed for any hint of either recognition or shock.  It was a cooler day, not cold enough to require a jacket but chilly enough that a naked man should have been at least slightly uncomfortable, yet the blonde’s perfectly tanned skin failed to produce so much as a single goosebump.

“Literally perfect.  I hate to say it, but this could be fun.”  Brant gave his rear a bounce and took Mike by the hand, grinning when he felt his partner tense.  “C’mon, man.  I’m walking down the street like this and you’re worried about holding hands?”

“Habit,” Mike grunted, giving Brant’s hand a squeeze.  To his credit he didn’t let go, and after a few blocks of zero reactions from others he started to feel foolish for his initial hesitation.  When they reached the address a short time later he hesitated again, but this time in the opposite direction.  Looking at the unremarkable brick building, absent of any markings or windows save for the black numbers of the address that hung above the weathered, burgundy door, Mike didn’t want to let go.  It was only a single story, but it seemed to loom before them like a monolith.  “Last chance to turn around.”

Brant just smiled and tried the door, pulling Mike inside when it opened.  They stepped into an equally unremarkable lobby, with faded green linoleum flooring, peeling mustard wallpaper, and a single metal desk peppered by rust spots.  With no windows to provide any outside light the scene was illuminated by a pair of buzzing fluorescent bulbs that accentuated rather than hid the shabby surroundings.  No one sat at the desk, but a hallway extended deeper into the building behind it and a series of doors could be seen lining the dim corridor.  The building gave the impression of a neglected doctor’s office, which both men felt was fitting considering what the owners did to people’s bodies.

Before Brant could call out, a voice carried from further down the hall.  “I’m glad you took us up on our offer,” a man said, stepping out from a door at the far end.  He was slightly built and slightly short, dressed in a black button-down, black slacks, and black shoes, with a bald head and contrastingly pale complexion that made his age difficult to guess.  His identity as the man in the mask, however,  was immediately apparent given the left arm that terminated in a familiar brass cap.  “And the gifts functioned as promised?”

Mike could only stare at the man, the hallway seeming to grow in length for each beat of his racing heart.  The man looked frail, nothing like the imposing figure he’d seen in robes and a mask, yet at the same time a fear like he’d never felt threatened to send him fleeing into the street.  “Is that what we’re calling them?  Gifts?”

The man clasped his arms behind his back and smiled as he stepped closer, his heels echoing like gunshots on the stained tile.  “Our order means you no harm.  We don’t hurt anyone if it can be avoided.  It’s actually one of our primary tenets, to only act in defense.  At all other times, alleviating suffering is our purpose.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t take that at face value,” Mike spat.  He looked at Brant out of the corner of his eye, reading the same mix of emotions in his partner’s expression.

The man stopped a few feet away, nodding.  “Completely understandable!  You don’t have the full picture.  That’s why I was hoping to speak with you.  I know how…jarring…an experience like this can be for the uninitiated and wanted to give you a few days to process things.  ‘Overwhelming’ doesn’t really cover it, does it?  We try to avoid bringing in people from the cold, as it were, but when the Universe speaks we can only listen,” the man shrugged.  “That’s why we’ve been keeping an eye on you, to make sure you weren’t in any danger of hurting yourselves.  Knowledge can be a burden as much as a gift.”

“To make sure we weren’t…” Mike broke off in a low growl, his fear finally giving way to a surge of anger.  “Who the fuck do you people think you are?!”

“How rude of me!  I’m David, current High Priest, Order of Sho-Yog,” he said as if he was cheerfully introducing himself to a stranger in an elevator.  His smile was warm and genuine, lacking any of the menace that Mike expected.  “Can I get you anything?  Coffee?  Water?  Or would you like to jump right into the conversation?”

“Just the conversation, I think,” Brant said, shooting Mike a quick glance that told him to go along with things for the moment.

“We can talk here if you’re more comfortable, or we can proceed to my office.  It’s just the three of us at the moment.  You can of course verify that if you’d like.”  David turned to the nearest door and opened it, revealing an empty, nondescript office that perfectly matched the lobby.  “These are our consultation rooms.  A larger meeting space is in the back for group functions, and we do get out and about, as you two are aware.”

“Your office is fine,” Brant nodded.  “No need to verify anything.”  He and Mike both knew it was a moot point.  It didn’t make any difference if the offices were currently full of cultists, or if the members were lying in wait outside.  If they’d wanted to restrain or eliminate the pair of investigators they’d had plenty of opportunities over the preceding days, and neither of them had reason to suspect that would change.  There was also a disarming aura of honesty around the small, bald man, magnifying the voice in Brant’s head that had been telling him everything was okay since his transformation.

They followed David to the last door before the corridor opened up into what looked like a large community room, finding themselves seated opposite the smaller man like they were speaking to an accountant.  The office was sparsely furnished, with only a desk, a pair of chairs, and a dress form in the corner adorned with a familiar robe and mask.  Brant squirmed as he lowered himself into the wooden chair, his thickened cheeks squishing between the arms when he sat.

“Sorry…these aren’t really made for someone with your unique proportions.  Would you like me to get a bigger one?”  David started to stand but stopped when the blonde shook his head.

“This is fine,” Brant said, blushing slightly as the reality of his situation sunk in.  His bare, fattened ass was wedged into a chair while his rigid, sleeve-covered club stood proudly upright with his inflated balls spilling out the bottom, the whole time the weight of his plumped pecs threatening to pull him forward.

“What are we doing here,” Mike finally asked as Brant settled into place, his tone more exasperated than anything else.  They looked like they were about to get their taxes done or sit through a session of couple’s counseling, not unravel the mysteries of reality.  “You said you wanted to talk, so talk.”

David nodded and pointed with a thumb to the robe and mask.  “You heard the pitch in the warehouse, or do you need me to go over it again?  About the mask and the multiverse and the hand of Sho-Yog?”  He waited for the pair to nod before continuing, holding up the brass stump.  “The hand doesn’t actually pull whole people from other realities, just aspects of them.  There might be some spillover in terms of memories, but the ones that don’t belong usually fade in time.  Some will likely remain, though it’s up to you to decide why.  Sho-Yog works in mysterious ways.”

“Who…what…is Sho-Yog, exactly,” Brant asked, looking down at himself.

“Sho-Yog is the space between spaces.  The void between molecules.  The gap between moments.  Sho-Yog is everywhere and sees everything.  It’s how They know what gifts to give even before the recipient knows they’re wanted,” David said as he locked eyes with Brant.

“Are you saying he wanted this,” Mike barked before his partner could respond.  “What about Chad and Bryan?  Did they want to end up like that?!”

David’s tone was flat as he continued.  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.  Chad sought US out, not the other way around.  I understand you don’t have his half of the story, neither did Bryan, but he was a willing supplicant.  He WANTED the knowledge, and fully understood what he was getting himself into.  No guarantees or promises on an outcome.  Why he ended up the way he did is for him and Sho-Yog to know and no one else…we don’t ask questions, we simply open the door.”

Mike sat back in the chair, shaking his head.  “And Bryan?  What if someone doesn’t want to walk through it?”

“Then it wouldn’t be open for them,” David shrugged.  “People rarely recognize the desire to cross the threshold themselves, but that desire can’t hide from the eyes of Sho-Yog.  Chad went to see his friend, and as soon as Bryan laid eyes on him Sho-Yog spoke to us that the other man was suffering.  But you saw them yourself.  Did they seem unhappy or in duress?”

“It wasn’t them!  It was some twisted version, not the…” Mike trailed off when David motioned over at Brant with the brass stump.

“And is that not your friend,” the bald man asked, raising a thin eyebrow.

“Of course it is, but not the…he wouldn’t have…he didn’t want…” Mike sputtered.  He hadn’t really expected his assumptions to be proven true, to hear that the other men, and Brant, actually were happy in their altered existences.  His friend’s guilty expression told him otherwise.  “You really want this?”

Brant shrugged.  “It’s like we talked about.  ‘Want’ doesn’t feel like the right word.  ‘Need’ maybe?  It just feels right.  All of it.”

“Even the voice,” Mike asked, clutching the arms of the chair.  He felt like he was teetering on the edge of an abyss.

Brant blushed and nodded.  “It’s a little embarrassing, but that just, I don’t know, kinda makes it hotter?  I’m not a fuckin’ psychologist, man.  I just know how it feels.  And,” he said, reaching over to take the other man’s hand, “without this you and I wouldn’t have…connected…the way we have.  I refuse to believe anything that feels like that is wrong.”

“Sure, the sex is great, but…”

“I’m not talking about the sex,” Brant interrupted, feeling like they really were in couple’s counseling as he locked eyes with his blushing partner.  The silence hung while Mike turned beet red before the blonde shrugged again.  “And if it feels like this for me, why wouldn’t it for them?”

“So what are we really doing here,” Mike asked, afraid that he already knew the answer.

David motioned over to the mask.  “Extending an offer.  I know you haven’t yet made up your mind or Sho-Yog would have spoken.  I hoped that the gift of knowledge would help with making a decision.”

“You mean if I let you do to me what you’ve done to the others?”  Mike started shaking in his chair.  His heart was racing so fast he could hardly breathe, and every instinct told him to get up and run.

“If you weren’t at least considering it we wouldn’t still be having this conversation,” David shrugged.  “The choice is entirely yours.  But know that should you refuse, the offer may not present itself again.”

The burly investigator couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  After all the mind-bending oddities of the past several days, he’d never imagined a scenario where he’d be given a choice.  He’d pictured being changed against his will, or turned into something horrible, but now all the quiet questions he’d been trying to ignore started roaring in his brain.  He knew on a gut level that the other two men were telling the truth.  His partner meant every word he said, and Mike didn’t think it was because he’d been brainwashed either.  And if that was true, that meant all the stirrings of envy he’d been feeling were both valid and possible to rectify if he was willing to roll the dice.  “No guarantees on an outcome though, right?”

David smiled and shook his head.  “You don’t need to be afraid.  Change always brings with it a certain amount of anxiety, but Sho-Yog sees the truth of you and your desire.”

Mike looked over at Brant, his chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon.  “Yeah?”

The blonde grinned and nodded.  “My money’s on you not even changing all that much.  You’re a pretty straightforward guy.”

“And if I do,” Mike asked as the featureless mask floated over to David of its own accord.  The gems that ringed the edges flared to life, confirming the unexpected realization that he really had just made a decision.

Brant’s eyes found the older man’s and stayed there.  “I’m not going anywhere,” he squeaked, climbing to his feet and pushing his chair back out of the way.  He took a few steps to the side as David walked around from behind the desk, his slight frame seeming to grow larger as the mask settled against his face.  The pasty little man didn’t enlarge physically, but his presence loomed ever larger while Mike shakily climbed to his feet.

The brawny man didn’t have time for questions or second guessing.  As soon as he stood, a familiar cloud of inky smoke began to form at the end of the brass cap on David’s stump until a billowing claw had engulfed him.  Mike braced himself for the worst, but other than a light tingling and an intense wave of vertigo all he really noticed was a rush of air as he felt his clothes vanish.  Inside the smoky claw the void was absolute, and he wasn’t sure if he screwed his eyes shut or held them wide in terror until the charcoal vapor began to recede.  He’d known it would be a quick process, it had only taken seconds for Brant, but he was still shocked to find it over so soon.

Mike was also shocked to find a mostly-familiar body waiting for him.  He instinctively reached up and prodded his furry, unaltered slab of a chest, seeing the same broad shoulders and beefy arms as he frantically inspected himself.  Below that was the same firm muscle gut he’d always sported, but beneath the lumpy abs was a significant alteration.  Mike let out a quiet gasp, his stomach both fluttering and dropping when he saw the familiar, feminine slit where his fat cock and heavy balls should have been. His meaty, hairy thighs were exactly the same on either side, and when he reached around with a shaking hand he felt the same ample globes as always at his rear, leaving only the conspicuous absence and a sudden, aching throb as evidence of his alterations.

“What’d I say…pretty straightforward.  How do you feel,” Brant asked, his hungry eyes traveling up and down his partner’s naked frame.

“Fi…fine?  I think,” Mike stammered, feeling a rush of relief at the sound of his same gravely rumble.  He reached up and poked at his square, flat features, finding everything where it should be.  “Do I…do I really have a fuckin’ pussy?”

Brant couldn’t hold back a smile as he stepped forward.  “Sure looks like it.  Feel that way?”

“NNgguuhh…” Mike grunted when the other man reached down and slipped a few fingers into the sensitive new opening, his back arching and his vision blurring from the overwhelming, foreign sensation.  “Fuuuuuck that feels good,” he moaned, his voice cracking slightly.  He’d never felt anything like it, had never imagined something could feel that good, the unexpected bliss already overpowering any regret he felt at his decision.  He looked over to see David’s reaction but the smaller man only smiled and nodded on his way to a discreet exit.

“Looks like he’s giving you some time to get adjusted,” Brant laughed.  “Do you have any idea how lucky you are?  You know what I can do to one of these things.”

“FFFFFFnnnggg…” Mike groaned again, a shudder running through him when his partner’s strong fingers found another sweet spot.  Brant was right, his desires weren’t overly complicated, which made the choice of alteration obvious for the burly hunk.  Ever since he’d ridden the blonde for the first time, Mike had experienced a growing desire to enhance that ability.  His girthy cock had already become a bothersome afterthought for the most part, so other than the blow to his male pride at the thought of walking around without the hefty organ he legitimately didn’t mind.  Brant was correct again, he really was lucky, and the hungry opening only made his life easier in the long run.

Mike reached down and ripped the pouch from his partner’s cock before wrapping his arms around the other man and sliding into place.  He let a long, low whimper slip down Brant’s throat as he pressed their lips together, his body feeling like it was melting against his friend’s curvy frame.  There was no awkward positioning or looking back over a shoulder.  There was no bending or folding or throwing his legs in the air.  It was just the two of them, arm-in-arm, face-to-face, with Brant’s thick log slowly pumping in and out from the ecstatic orifice.  Mike’s elation grew when the other man reached down and began toying with his hole, the knowledge that he’d still be able to simultaneously use it, as well as his eager mouth, pushing him near the edge.  With each pump of Brant’s hips Mike felt a weightlessness wash over him, a sense of freedom that came not from losing control but from voluntarily giving it to someone else.  He was still the same rough-and-rugged bulldog he’d always been, only without the added weight of expectation.

Brant had to hold him up when he came.  The experience was so overwhelming that Mike nearly blacked out, his vision tunneling as he went slack in the blonde’s strong arms.  When he came back to his senses Brant was giving a few, final thrusts, his gut tingling pleasantly from the warm sensation of his partner’s copious load inside him.

“Holy shit,” Mike laughed after another prolonged kiss.  He rested his head on Brant’s shoulder, his body humming with contented energy.  “That was incredible.”

“That was just a warmup,” the blonde said with a smug squeak.  “Wait’ll we get home and I can really let loose.  But, uh, getting you there might be a challenge.”

Mike blushed when Brant nodded down to where his missing clothes should have been.  The brawny man felt a fresh rush of anxiety at the thought that, like the other man, he’d be parading around naked, and that anxiety was only slightly abated when David returned a few moments later with a small bundle of burgundy material.

“I’m sure you can guess by now what these are,” he said, laying out a pair of familiar sandals and a pair of crimson panties.  “Should either of you ever need more, you know how to contact us.”

The brawny bull winced as he slipped the panties on, his stomach dropping at the thought that his broad, beefy frame, complete with contrasting pussy, would be strutting around entirely on display.  The back of the skimpy bottoms disappeared between his plump globes, embarrassing enough for someone who only ever wore standard briefs, and the small, flat patch between his thighs didn’t help either.

Until he looked over at Brant.  “Oh my god you are so hot like that,” the blonde groaned, slipping his own pouch back into place.  “Gonna be a miracle if you make it home with those still on.”

Mike resisted the urge to give in and forced his attention back to David.  “So what now?”

The smaller man shrugged.  “Whatever you wish.  You go on living however you see fit.  If you want to continue your work as investigators there’s no reason you can’t.  Or you can put those new bodies to use in other ways if that’s what you want.  There’s no right or wrong answer.  But, if you DO want to continue in your existing line of work, we can always use a pair with your unique skill set around here.  Sho-Yog’s many eyes work through us, and someone, or something, always needs tracking down.”

Mike looked over at Brant, who was already nodding.  “I think we can fit you into the schedule,” he said.