Crack the Code: What a Bargain, pt. 1 (Patreon)

“So the reduced rate requires…” Blake trailed off, his heart racing.  He’d guessed that the Code Breaker’s services would likely be out of his price range based on how much he’d had to fork over to simply arrange the meeting.  He’d initially balked at the idea of spending several thousand dollars for nothing more than a conversation, but he was desperate.  Not that the people who knew the handsome blonde would describe him that way.  They’d likely choose words such as “impulsive” and “impatient” to better characterize the smug stud’s personality.  There was no real need behind his actions, only a burning want and a wounded ego.

Approaching the tail end of his twenties, Blake already had an impressive trajectory to his career, with a more-than-modest, six-figure salary, a bustling stock portfolio, and more money in the bank than any of his friends.  He had a fast car, a fancy townhouse, and, most infuriating to those who knew him, the same charmingly devastating looks that had broken hearts and made jealous rivals all over campus.  His chiseled jaw and youthful features were still flawless, his precision-crafted body showing none of the pudge-inducing side-effects that normally accompanied a desk job.  He was lean and shredded, always making sure that his broad shoulders, perfect pecs, and firm bubble were expertly accentuated by whatever he wore.

With a little patience, there was no question that the natural course of Blake’s life would take him down the same paths of success trod by the straight, white, wealthy men that had come before him.  In a decade or so, by the time he was Edward’s age, he’d be sitting in a similar chair in a similar position of power lording his status over a similarly unfortunate young man.  But Blake didn’t want to wait, and he certainly didn’t want to spend another ten years being ordered around and condescended to by his boss.  He wanted Edward’s wealth and status now, while he was in his prime, but more than that he wanted his boss to be taken down a few pegs in the process.

Blake could never stand the way the middle-aged executive talked down to him, despite the fact that no one else seemed to interpret Edward’s communication that way.  The buff blonde bristled every time the older man asked him to do something, the very sound of his boss’s deep, smooth voice causing his blood pressure to rise, but it was the casual conversations that Blake dreaded the most.  Edward was always trying to be friendly.  Sitting around a boardroom before a meeting started, or when it was just the two of them in one of their offices, the older man would boast about his lavish new purchases, or how many younger women he’d hooked up with in the last few days, or how he’d set a new personal record at the gym.

That last one was especially grating for Blake as he couldn’t stand how his beefy boss insisted on wearing clothes that the younger man felt were too small.  He could grudgingly admit that Edward was handsome in a traditional sense, having a face and head of wavy, chocolate hair, still impressively thick for his age, that would have looked at home hanging on the wall of a salon.  But it wasn’t just Edward’s hair that was thick, and Blake felt like the older man should have been embarrassed at the way his slab of a chest always felt like it was about to burst out of his shirt, or how the sleeves always strained against his powerful arms.  The same went for the excessively large globes that hung like melons at his lower back, and the wide thighs that pushed his boss’s pants to the limit whenever the other man sat.  Unlike himself, Edward focused on building bulk instead of trying to stay lean and cut, his broad, imposing frame just one more facet of Blake’s smoldering resentment.  Of course, the fact that he mirrored all of those behaviors himself was entirely lost on the frustrated blonde.  In the rare instance that he stopped to question his actions at all, Blake always fell back on the simple justification that it was different when he did it.

Which would explain the lack of guilt he felt over arranging a meeting with the Code Breaker in the first place.  He’d come across rumors over the years, never anything more than a half-heard, hushed conversation in a happy hour bar or off in the corner of a locker room.  It all sounded like the corporate version of a boogie man, an urban legend for rich adults with too much time on their hands.  But as his frustration grew Blake had decided to look into it for real, being more than a little surprised to discover that the Code Breaker actually existed.

After that revelation the only question was one of practicality.  Blake’s hesitation came from a financial standpoint, not a moral one, as the Code Breaker’s prices were astronomical even by his standards.  It had cost just shy of five figures to set up the meeting in the first place, but at least now Blake understood why.  The fee included a small “demonstration” of the Code Breaker’s ability, a minor alteration to prove it was all real.  Blake at first asked to be made taller, then asked for a bigger dick, or more money, or an even pricier car, all of which the Code Breaker politely rebuffed with the same air of intimidating amusement he’d had since Blake walked into his office.  The handsome blonde had arrived with his customary air of arrogant superiority, especially after meeting the generically handsome Code Breaker, but after a few minutes a pit began to form in his trim stomach, a gradual reawakening of his primitive instincts that told him he sat across from real danger.

No matter how commonplace the other man may have appeared, what he could do was nothing short of miraculous.  After shooting down all of Blake’s requests, though being careful to point out that he appreciated the moxie it took to ask, the Code Breaker suggested a pedicure.  Blake laughed and agreed as the other man typed out a rapid string on his small keyboard, making a joke that it was the most expensive pedicure he’d ever received.  That laughter dried up when he slipped his shoes off and stripped out of his socks to find a polished set of expertly manicured toes wiggling up at him, complete with a flawless, sky-blue coating on the nails.  He blushed at how the bright color popped against his tanned, masculine feet, but the embarrassment quickly gave way to awe.  Then fear.  Then disappointment when they began discussing the price.

He’d come into the meeting fully prepared to leave without having reached his intended goal.  He either had enough money on hand or he didn’t.  But Blake hadn’t counted on a third option.  When the Code Breaker brought up the idea of a “reduced rate”, though given the exorbitant cost the name was a bit of a misnomer, the freshly-pedicured hunk had been thrilled.  Until he heard the details.  The Code Breaker had already explained them once, but he was trying to stall for time while his frantic mind wrestled with the impulses that had brought him here in the first place.

The Code Breaker gave a sympathetic smile as he sat back in his chair.  “I understand.  This one’s always a curveball.  With the full package you get to dictate the specifics, and I mean down to the minutia.  Not just the things you want changed, but when and where they happen.  The sky’s the limit.  With the reduced rate you have fewer options, though still plenty of room to play, but it comes with you providing a service to the system.  All this toying with reality generates quite a bit of…let’s call it steam…that needs to be released every so often.  Despite what our pricing structure might imply, we really do exist to serve.  The machine WANTS to work.  It WANTS to give everyone their heart’s desire.  But there are rules that need to be followed, otherwise it would be pure chaos.”  The Code Breaker paused and smiled, shrugging slightly.  “Sorry.  In the weeds.  It’s clear you’ve thought about this and him quite often.  You want your boss’s position and power, and you want him to go through a public wringer?  That one’s actually pretty straightforward, and we can absolutely work that into the reduced rate.  If you’re willing to roll the dice a bit.”

Blake wiggled his painted toes, fearing that he’d already made the decision.  “What does that mean, exactly?”

The Code Breaker shrugged again.  “Exactly?  I wish I could tell you.  But this is a system-generated process.  What I can promise, though, is that there are safeguards in place to ensure you’re not wasting your money.  You’ll still get what you paid for, and you’ll still be in a position to enjoy it.  Only you and the machine know what that really means, the idea of ‘enjoying’ what you get, but you can rest assured that outcome won’t be impaired.  Beyond that, though…”

Blake was signing the papers before he even realized it.  He was cold and clammy and his heart thundered so loud he could barely hear what the Code Breaker said, but beneath all that was a sense of triumph like he’d never felt before.  It would all unfold over the course of the next few days, and although the “reduced” rate had cost him nearly everything he had, a few days with a temporarily empty bank account were nothing compared to what he’d be getting in return.

It wasn’t long before his shell-shocked daze gave way to an excited euphoria, though Blake had a slight reality check when he stopped at the gym on his way home.  He hoped to burn off some of the remaining jitters and then melt them away in the sauna, and while the first part of the plan went off without a hitch, it wasn’t until the fit blonde was sitting with nothing but a small towel around his waist that he noticed the men around him stealing glances at his feet.  He’d forgotten all about his brightly painted toes, but after an initial rush of embarrassment he shrugged it off.  They could look all they wanted.  The blue-capped digits were a sign of his victory, not something to be ashamed of.  He’d stop and get some remover on the way home, but until then he’d wear them like a badge of honor.

He forgot to make the stop. Blake was still distracted and riding the high of success, his body now humming from both endorphins and the thrill of it all.  He was drunk with power, and although the situation turned him on like few things ever had, he resisted the urge to find someone to bring home.  Since he didn’t know exactly what would be happening or when, Blake didn’t want to have to worry about some strange woman being in the midst of it all.  He told himself there’d be plenty of time for that later and instead opted for a long shower and a consolatory jerkoff session.  As worked up as he was it only took a few tugs of his thick, seven-inch pole before he blew, but the lingering bodybuzz remained, so he slipped into nothing but a pair of small, crimson briefs afterwards, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he went in for round two.

Blake also thanked whichever of his previous hookups had left the bottle of nail polish remover he found sitting on the edge of his bathroom counter.  A part of him hesitated to remove the shiny coating as it was the only proof he still had of what was to come, but he told himself it wouldn’t matter soon anyway.  He spent the rest of his evening riding the high, absently fondling his stuffed bulge or a sensitive nipple as he wandered around his townhouse, wondering if and when it would all change.  Would he wind up in Edward’s house?  Or a different, bigger place of his own?  Would it be a magic transition or would he just get the money to move?  Blake fantasized about it all, jerking off a few more times in the process before finally falling into a deep, contented slumber.

He was a little disappointed when he awoke to familiar surroundings.  He opened his eyes on the same bedroom and the same tented bedding he’d last seen the night before, his excited organ still as eager as ever.  Blake was still happy to oblige the thick pole, and he spent the first few minutes of his day thinking about what Edward was doing at that moment.  Was his boss’s beefy frame also naked in bed?  Was the older man pulling on what Blake imagined to be an equally thick cock at the same time?  Or was he putting all that bulky muscle to work in a gym somewhere?  Was he showing off his fat cheeks while he stood at a sink in a locker room, shaving and brushing his teeth while he prepared for what Blake hoped would be his last day in the office?

It wasn’t until the blonde started cumming that he realized he’d just spent the entirety of his jerk session thinking about his boss’s naked body.  An unaccustomed moan escaped from Blake’s slack mouth as he erupted, blaming the novelty of the situation for the unusual choice of fantasy fodder.  He told himself it was just the circumstances that turned him on, not that he was attracted to the older man in any way.

He was still telling himself that a short time later as he toweled off after his shower and went about his morning routine.  He shaved his scrubby stubble, fixed his hair, and then picked a small bottle of lilac nail polish from the dozens of rainbow hues waiting for him when he opened his vanity mirror.

“Wait…what the fuck am I doing,” Blake yelped when he finally realized that he was looking down past his dangling hose and hairy thighs at a pair of feet whose toes he’d nearly finished painting.  “Oh that motherfucker,” he grunted with a short laugh.  “No wonder the pedicure was so goddamn expensive.  There’s now way I’m going to…to…” Blake trailed off, still going through the motions.  He wasn’t even thinking about it.  Dividers were wedged between his toes and his fingers moved with a nimble grace when they applied the liquid as if he’d done this hundreds of times.

But even once he registered his behavior and recognized it for being odd he still couldn’t stop until he’d finished all ten, by which point he suddenly remembered buying the petite little bottles and understood why it all felt so familiar.  Painting his toenails was just another part of his morning routine like everything else.  His mind still reeling from the revelation, Blake staggered out into the bedroom when he heard his phone blowing up.  He blushed at the way his cock swung while he stumbled on his heels so as to not mess up the paint job, but the toes quickly became an afterthought when he saw a dozen texts from his coworkers telling him to check his email immediately.

Blake held his breath when he scrolled down and saw the message from his boss that had come through overnight.  There was no subject line and the body was empty, making it seem like nothing more than a simple mistake that had embarrassingly been sent to the entire organization.  And then he saw the attachment.

“Oh my god,” Blake gasped, his eyes going wide when the video started playing.  It was a shot of his boss, the perspective that of a video conference, only it was very clear that nothing work related was occurring.  Edward was seated on a plush leather sofa and the older man’s button down was open, revealing the deep valley between his plump pecs and the center strip of his beefy muscle gut, complete with a light dusting of adjoining, auburn hair.  He had one thick arm up on the back of the couch while the other slipped into his shirt to begin kneading a meaty mound, his soft, full lips curled into a smug grin.

“What’s that?  You want to watch me play with these,” the older man purred to the mystery viewer.  He paused his groping and flexed each pec individually before slipping both hands into the shirt to pull it open.  He bounced the juicy slabs with his fingers to emphasize just how thick and round they were before focusing his attention on the nubby nipples.  “You really want to get your mouth on one of these, don’t you bud,” he chuckled, leaning closer to the camera and squeezing one of the nipples for emphasis.  If there was a response Blake couldn’t hear it, but Edward clearly did.  “I wish you could too, believe me.  Get’s me so fuckin’ hot just thinking about it,” the older man groaned, tilting the laptop down.

Blake actually gasped at the sight of his boss’s bare, powerful thighs and the stuffed black briefs that struggled to contain the older man’s girthy equipment.  His earlier fantasies had been spot on when he’d imagined Edward’s thick log and plump balls, but he’d never expected to have them confirmed by watching the older man grope his twitching bulge.

The blonde’s stomach fluttered excitedly when the laptop panned back up to Edward’s wry grin.  “Uh-uh.  It’s your turn, buddy.  If you want to see it you have to earn it, and someone’s still wearing too many clothes.  Be a good boy and take those briefs off.”  Blake still couldn’t believe what he was seeing as he watched Edward’s thick arm flex in time with his off-camera groping.  The hand that was still in frame busied itself with a pec again as the older man pursed his lips and nodded.  “Oh, hey, what do we have here,” he grinned, slightly lowering the laptop again.  This time the bottom of Edward’s wide jaw was still in frame as the view showed the top two-thirds of a thick cock sticking up from the waist of his briefs.  “Oh?  You want to lick it?  Well since you asked so nicely…”

There was a dull thud when Edward grabbed the laptop and pulled it forward, wedging it between his thighs before pulling down the front of his briefs.  The older man’s fat balls were briefly visible before the thick organ obscured most of the frame as it rested against the camera, though Blake could see Edward moving in the background.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it,” Edward rumbled off screen.  “Bet you want me to cum all over that handsome face of yours, don’t you?  Oh, don’t worry bud, as soon as you’re back from your conference we’ll make up for lost time.  Gonna lick that hole so clean you’ll squeak when you walk,” he sighed, shifting the camera back to its original position.  He pushed it farther back so that almost all of him was in frame now, giving the viewer an unobstructed vantage point of his now-bare torso and the way his meaty bulk flexed as he bent forward and slowly shucked the briefs.  He settled back on the couch, legs wide and arms up on the top, his fat cock pointing proudly upright.  “Bet you wish that tight little bubble was here right now,” he said, pumping his hips to thrust the rigid club up and down.  “I mean, here I am with this fat, juicy cock and I’ve got nowhere to put it,” Edward mock-pouted.  “Do you have somewhere?  Maybe you could show me?  Yeah…there it is…work that hole for me.  That’s right…get those knuckles up that shit chute,” he barked, a hand drifting south to act as a sleeve for his pumping piston of a cock.

Blake couldn’t believe what he was hearing any more than what he was seeing since he’d never once heard his boss talk like this before.  He wondered who was on the other end and what the man must look like while they fingered themselves for Edward, who was rolling his wide hips with rhythmic precision.

“Looks like you’re starting to leak there, bud,” Edward grunted, licking his lips.  “S’okay…so am I.  Fuuuuuck…watching you do that gets me so fuckin’ hot,” the older man groaned, his cock now slick with precum as it slipped up and down between his fist.  “The second you get back…I mean the SECOND…I want that ass on this lap, understood?  But what am I telling you for?  Not like I’d be able to stop you.  Let me hear you say it.  Tell me how much you want this piece of meat splitting you open.  I want you to beg for this man juice inside you.  I don’t care about the other people in the hotel…let them hear it, too.  Let everyone hear how much you want this fat fuckin’ log to make you scream.  Actually…go ahead and scream for me.  Pretend you’ve got it…yeah…there he is…that’s…my…booouuuhhnnnn….” Edward angled his cock when he came so that the copious eruption blasted all over his face and chest.  His heaping, glistening pecs heaved, a low whimper rumbling out from his cum-covered mouth as he gave a few final pumps.  “Yours tastes better,” he finally said as he licked his lips clean with a sigh.  “But since someone’s not here to do it for me I guess I’ll have to do it myself.”  He gestured to the cum that was dripping down his beefy torso, his tone becoming increasingly condescending as his eyes fixed on the monitor.  “Good job bud…you’re almost there.  Don’t get quiet on me now, champ.  Those pretty muscles look fuckin’ pumped, by the way.  You do a good job at the gym?  Bet everyone loved looking at that shit in the sauna, yeah?  You get hard for ‘em like I told you?  You did?  Good job!  Oh!  Looks like we’re just abooouuuuuuttt…there we go!”

Blake watched Edward lick his lips again as whoever he spoke to finally came on the other end, oblivious to his own impending release until it was too late.