Holiday 7, ch. 2 (vignette) (Patreon)

“Thanks, toots.  Maybe I’ll come back and see you later.”  The handsome man’s snarling laugh was drowned out by a loud slap when he reached down to give Avery’s mammoth globes a swat.  “Give your boss my regards,” he said, plucking the martini glass from the tray.

Externally, Avery was all smiles, but internally he sighed.  Not from the groping that had become a near-constant occurrence, but because he actually wanted Pretty Joey to follow through.  The smoldering stud was the head of a rival casino, and he lived up to his name.  Immaculate, raven hair, sharp, chiseled features, icy eyes and pouty lips, it was the face of a model attached to the body of an olympic athlete.  Even without the pads in his blazer to enhance them, Pretty Joey’s shoulders were broad and imposing, as were the sleeve-straining arms connected to them.  He wasn’t as big as Cyril, but his perfect pecs and tight waist were expertly accentuated by his fitted button down, while his sturdy thighs, muscled rear, and legendary bulge were tastefully displayed by his tailored slacks.

A few weeks earlier, Avery could have given the handsome hunk a run for his money.  His own athletic build wasn’t far off, nor were his handsome features and hefty bulge, but a lot had changed in the span of those weeks.  Now, Avery’s colossal, rippling rear and supple thighs left his sculpted torso connected to a disproportionately bottom-heavy build, and the barely present nub forming a small lump in the front of his thong was a far cry from the club he once so proudly wielded.  The golden garment was pointlessly small and wouldn’t have even come close to concealing his former endowment, but now the skimpy bottoms fit perfectly as they left his heaping cakes on full display and expertly accentuated just how small he currently was.  The metallic fabric also matched the golden coating on his soft, full lips, as well as the lustrous eyeshadow that marred his masculine features, with a similar peppering of golden, head-to-toe body glitter covering every inch of his tanned, altered frame.  The shimmering coating and the makeup weren’t merely cosmetic, either, but had been programmed into his current appearance, meaning they wouldn’t come off until Cyril wanted them to, and Avery knew that wouldn’t be any time soon.

Since his capture he’d become the face of the Golden Lady, the once-untouchable thief now serving as both a trophy and a warning.  Word quickly spread, and, much to his chagrin, Avery found himself with an eager audience all too happy to witness his present circumstances.  Having pulled jobs at every casino on the Station, the rival bosses actually came by to congratulate Cyril for finally removing a common thorn in all their sides, and to sample the new offerings that Avery could provide.  A part of the altered man was grateful that his elevated status meant he didn’t circulate amongst the standard Pleasure staff, but the flipside was that he knew each and every one of his partners.  Unlike the other Pleasure Boys at the Golden Lady it was never “just business.”  With Avery, it was always personal.

Even Dino, his old boss, had come by to acknowledge Cyril’s victory, taking Avery for a spin just to prove that there weren’t any hard feelings.  As he’d bounced up and down on the older man’s short, fat cock, loving the sensation of his boss’s heavyset, beefy frame pressing against him, he’d listened, above the sound of his own whimpers, to Dino’s insincere “regrets” about how things had turned out.  Considering what Cyril had set about signal boosters and his own suspicions that his body wasn’t on the Station at all anymore, Avery had guessed that he was on his own, and Dino’s visit had confirmed that.  He’d been cut loose, left to fend for himself in his new role with his new boss, his success or failure dependent on his actions alone.

It was how Avery had started off on the Station, and he told himself that if he’d done it once, he could do it again.  The hardest part was remembering that there was anything to do at all.  The nanite husk his consciousness beamed into was primed for the job.  It wanted to do what it was programmed to, which meant Avery wanted the same thing.  Based on his physical impulses alone, he loved every second of it.  He loved the sensation of his bare, bouncing bottom as he strutted around the VIP level serving drinks in his golden thong and sandals.  He loved getting up on one of the platforms and going through a series of twerking gyrations for the crowd.  He loved stripping down and working his little cock for his audience.  He loved it when they touched him and looked at him just as much as he loved touching and looking at them.  He loved his private sessions with the men he’d stolen from, and his nights with Cyril, and being passed around by the staff when his new boss was feeling generous.  He loved being manhandled and talked down to, to being objectified, to being called “toots,” “sweet cheeks,” and “pretty lady.”  As far as prisons went, it was an insidious one.

Avery reluctantly turned away from Pretty Joey and started to head for a nearby table, but he was intercepted by Mikey, one of Cyril’s private bodyguards.  The bald bruiser, clad in a straining, golden suit, was an imposing wall of muscle with an even more imposing face, the lack of hair accentuating the harsh asymmetry of his features.  He stood a towering 6’4” and was more than wide enough to fill a doorway by himself, his overall size making his unfortunately small endowment stand out all that much more to anyone who saw it.  Avery was one of those people, but as far as he was concerned the compact, five-inch poker was perfect, as were Mike’s blunted features.  The brawny powerhouse was also exceptionally skilled, wielding the small-but-mighty member with expert precision, a skillset he’d likely developed out of necessity given that his brutish face and small cock formed an uphill battle to the bedroom.  Out of all the staff, Avery actually looked forward to his times with Mikey the most, as the mountainous meathead was a tender teddy bear when his clothes came off.

“Yo, Avery…boss wants to see you,” Mikey said, swallowing the glittery hunk’s shoulder in a meaty paw.  He gently, but firmly, forced the smaller man towards the elevator, taking the golden tray from Avery and handing it off to the nearest server.

Avery’s shrunken nub throbbed at the way Mikey so easily corralled him, his thoughts immediately drifting back to the last time the bulky beast had tossed him around a bedroom.  “Is he the only one,” he cooed, batting his eyes up at the taller man.

“Fuck no,” Mikey said, letting out a short laugh as the elevator doors opened.  He guided them inside, but before he could press the button up to Cyril’s penthouse, Avery was on him.

“When am I going to get to see you in MY outfit for a change,” the smaller man whined, draping himself against the bigger man’s bulk while roughly kneading the front of his trousers.  His nimble fingers started to tug down the zipper, but a giant hand swatted them away.

“Sooner than you think if you keep it up,” Mikey grunted, gently shoving Avery back.  “You know the boss has cameras in here,” he said, hitting the sole button up to Cyril’s floor.  “No playing while I’m on duty.”

Avery rolled his eyes but stayed at arm’s length.  “You’re no fun,” he pouted.  Mikey just grinned but stayed silent, the golden doors opening a moment later.  He stepped into the room but stayed by the elevator, enjoying the view as Avery kicked off his sandals and peeled out of his thong.  The smaller man slowly bent as he did so, bouncing and clapping his glittering, oversized cheeks in a quick show before strutting naked into the penthouse.  Cyril didn’t want him to wear anything up here, and it wasn’t as if Avery needed a reason to get naked anymore.  “You wanted to see me, boss,” he said, his stomach fluttering at the shirtless hulk gazing out through his wall of windows at the simulated city below.  Beads of sweat glistened across the mountainous ridge of muscle that was Cyril’s upper back, trickling down the tanned, smooth expanse until they reached the thin cotton shorts clinging to the gorgeous man’s muscled rear.  His boss had clearly just completed a workout, and Avery had to stop himself from immediately offering to clean him off in the shower.  Not because he didn’t want to, but out of principle.

That desire only grew when Cyril turned and flashed his stunning smile.  His features were every bit as cultivated as Pretty Joey’s, if not moreso, and they had the extra bonus of being attached to a sculpted body that made Mikey look small.  “And how is my prized possession doing today,” he asked, motioning for Avery to join him at the window.  “Is everyone behaving themselves?  I heard Joey’s down there, and I know how he gets,” he said, his massive hand reaching out and swallowing the smaller man’s shrunken package.

Avery let out a quiet sigh and instinctively pressed his hips into his boss’s palm.  “So far so good.  Other than some ass grabbing, Joey was on his best behavior,” he said, shivering when Cyril switched to tweaking his tiny nub with a pair of fingers.  “He…he sends his regards.”

“I’m sure he does,” Cyril purred, giving the compact cock another few tweaks before letting go.  “Did he tell you that he made me an offer for your purchase?  It was quite the figure, but the mere question is an insult, don’t you think?  After all, you just got here.”

“Between his face and his money, one usually gets him what he wants,” Avery said, his hand drifting towards the waist of Cyril’s shorts.  “But you’ve got him beat on both, so…”

The towering blonde grinned and threw a massive arm around Avery’s shoulders.  “Always the charmer.  I was going to bring up some business, but I think that can wait.”

The bottom-heavy hunk got his wish after all as Cyril guided him into the opulent bathroom, his new desires taking control.  He eagerly stripped the bigger man of his sweat-soaked shorts and briefs, licking his way back up the trunk-like thighs and savoring the salty musk as he gave the heavy balls and twitching girder a thorough tongue bath.  His unaltered mouth struggled to contain the thick, ten-inch monster but Avery still made a valiant, gagging attempt.  He switched to his hands when Cyril eventually lifted him to his feet, alternating between stroking the heaping organ and scrubbing the demi-god down in the spacious shower, simultaneously loving and loathing his act of submissive supplication.  Being in such overwhelming awe of another man was as foreign a sensation as everything else for the once-smug stud, and Avery resented the fact that he couldn’t distinguish how much of his reaction was due to programming, and how much he would have originally felt.  He’d literally never met someone with Cyril’s presence, either in terms of his personality or in terms of his strapping frame, and any lingering thoughts he’d had about the two of them being on the same level before his capture had been quickly eradicated.  If Avery wasn’t careful it was easy to think of his current circumstances as a gift, not a punishment, for the access they granted him to such primal perfection.  It was almost worth the constant exposure and shrunken dick and fattened ass if it meant he could, as he did in that moment, have the hulking hunk inside him.  Avery was pressed against the shower wall, his clapping cakes bouncing wildly as the bigger man held him easily in place, hammering in with long, deep thrusts.

Though he’d lost track of how long they actually went at it, as far as Avery was concerned it was over far too soon.  His head spun from the blissful body buzz as he toweled the satisfied stud dry and followed him out into the sprawling bedroom, forgetting that he’d been summoned for another purpose entirely until Cyril gestured to a nearby dresser.  A slim, golden choker sat in an ornate box, bearing what looked like a charm in the shape of a golden crown in its center.

“This is for you,” the naked hulk said, making it seem like he was presenting a gift as he fastened the choker around Avery’s sturdy neck.  “Now that you’ve been here long enough to get acquainted with the new you, we should be able to safely mix things up without having to worry about you…breaking,” he said, running a large thumb along Avery’s cheek.  “And when my boys in the lab said they’d finished the modifications to that fun little grav harness of yours, I felt inspired.”

Avery reached up and prodded at the choker, a hesitant expression on his face.  “This is the grav harness?  How’d they get it in something so small,” he asked, instinctively trying to link with the tech before remembering that his new nanite frame didn’t actually have a neural interface to connect with.

“Since we don’t need it to do nearly as much, they were able to strip out just the base components,” Cyrill said, his pretty mouth curling into a grin.  “And as I’m sure you’ve already discovered, there’s no need to worry about a user interface.”

“Habit,” Avery nodded, looking sheepish.

Cyril sounded proud.  “I’d expect nothing less.  But we’ll get to that.  For now…” Avery gasped when a fresh wave of whole-body tingling broke out and he found himself suddenly staring at a familiar frame.  His mammoth rear had shrunk back to its original, perky proportions, and his pointlessly small package had expanded to its girthy starting point.  His leanly muscled frame and handsome face still bore the golden adornments, but proportionally speaking, it was as if the preceding weeks had never happened.  “I’d almost forgotten where we began,” Cyril said, his eyes traveling up and down Avery’s defined physique.  “Unfortunately, you take up a bit too much room like this.”

Avery let out another gasp when the world seemed to blur and he suddenly found himself staring at an even lower point on Cyril’s meaty torso.  He immediately inspected himself for other changes and discovered that he still bore the same proportions, only on a smaller scale, save for the unaltered package that now loomed large on his more compact frame.  “This…this is different,” he said, his oversized cock surging to life at the way his boss loomed over him.  “How…”

“Four and a half feet, give or take,” Cyril shrugged.  “This will likely just be for the evening’s festivities…you should be more manageable at this size.”

Avery wanted to ask what, exactly, he needed to be managed for, but he was distracted by the way his cock continued to throb.  The hefty organ had reached its full, thick eight inches, but instead of standing proudly out it hooked upwards at a sharp curve until it stood nearly vertical.  “What…what’s…ooOOouuhhHHHH!”  He broke off in a moan, looking down at the pulsing log just as it erupted and blasted him in the face.  He swayed as the ecstatic eruptions continued, expecting them to stop but finding that the fleshy geyser had no end.  “Oh fuck…oh fuck…why is it still…” he whimpered, the muscle-melting orgasms maintaining their intensity despite the incessant frequency.

“How does it taste,” Cyril interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

Avery licked his lips on command, surprised at the sweet, honey flavor.  It was nothing like the salty taste or slimy consistency he’d become so accustomed to.  “It’s…it’s sweet…” he stammered, finally noticing that even the color was closer to a traditional cream than his standard emissions.  He licked another load off his chin, his head spinning.  “It tastes great.  I..wooooaaahh!”  Avery yelped when the choker began to hum slightly and he found himself floating upwards in a gentle, uncontrolled ascent.  He instinctively flailed his arms and legs but only succeeded in causing himself to begin to rotate as he stopped in midair, roughly six or seven feet off the ground.  His cock had continued to erupt the entire time, only now the releases floated in globule formation around him, equal parts lava lamp and snow globe.

“Just as I’d hoped,” Cyril nodded as he watched the spurting little stud slowly rotate.  “You’re in a contained anti-grav sphere that extends for a few feet in all directions around you.  Anything that enters…” he pulled off one of his rings and tossed it towards Avery, the golden band joining the hovering beads of liquid as it began a steady orbit around the groaning man.  The individual globules seemed to be growing larger as they collided and merged, with some of them landing as a fresh coating on Avery’s glittery muscle or in his mahogany hair.  “We’re expecting the VIP floor to be quite busy this evening, and I can safely say no one else has anything like you to offer.  Equal parts art piece and drink special…it’s perfect.  People will be talking about this one for months,” Cyril said, more to himself than the shrunken stud.  “Fortunately for you, that new body of yours doesn’t get dizzy.  Or exhausted.  So, you know, don’t forget to put on a show out there,” he winked.  “Bartenders will be standing by to serve your delicious concoction and make sure you don’t float away, so just enjoy yourself.  Mikey,” he called, leaving Avery where he was and stepping over to his dresser.  He slipped into a pair of briefs as his bodyguard entered and nodded towards the hovering hunk.  “Take Avery back downstairs and make sure he gets situated.  Take the freight elevator though…you might get messy in the other one.”

“Sure thing, boss,” the bald brute nodded, shucking his jacket and rolling up a tight sleeve before reaching into the sphere and grabbing Avery by an ankle.  He pulled the man along like a balloon, waiting until they were in the back corridor by the freight elevator to speak.  “Whooooo…look at you,” he whistled, giving the spurting geyser a light tap with his finger.  “Make a guy feel insecure, why don’t ya.”

“Ne…never…” Avery grinned, his body on fire with the unending release.  He felt like he should be embarrassed, but all he could do was whimper and weightlessly writhe as he groped his lean frame.

“You’re cute like this, though…hope the boss lets us play before he changes you back,” Mikey said with a bashful grin.  He guided Avery into the elevator and stood at the far side, barely avoiding the beads of liquid that began clinging to the nearby walls. As soon as they reached the lower floor and exited, that liquid began trickling down like wet paint, once again slaves to the whim of gravity.

But not Avery.  The overloaded stud lost himself to the torturous ecstasy, watching the rapidly growing crowd through half-closed eyes as if they were the ones who spun and not himself.  A part of him was still aware that he was locked in a floating bubble helplessly groping his constantly-cumming frame, but he felt too deliriously wonderful to care.  Let them listen to his lustful moans.  Let them watch as he flexed and writhed and licked his biceps clean.  Let them drink his one-of-a-kind brew as he smeared it all over his chiseled frame and into his messy mop of sticky hair.

As he floated and sprayed for the eager crowd, with bartenders scooping out cupfuls as quickly as they could, Avery knew his original, human body couldn’t come close to enduring the stresses that his nanite husk easily brushed aside.  But the question remained whether or not his linked brain could handle the overwhelming pleasure, and how much would be left intact afterwards.

He closed his eyes and let himself go, his instincts telling him it was easier to ride a wave than to try and stop one.  The night was young, and he had a long way to go.