“Hey, Bishop,” Frank said, knocking on the door of my office, “I just heard you landed the promotion to VP–congrats! I put my name in the hat too, but I had a feeling you were a shoe in.”
I smirked at Frank. We’d been…something between friends and rivals in the office for years now. To each other’s faces, we’re all smiles, but we’d fought hard for every last scrap–projects, bonuses, promotions–but I suppose you could say that with this, I’d finally won, in a sense. “Thanks Frank, I appreciate it. You would have been a great choice too. Who knows? Another slot might open up in a few years–I’ll certainly recommend you.”
“Heh, or even sooner,” he said, “Anyway, I got you a gift–something for you to enjoy tonight, while you’re celebrating,” he walked over and handed me a small, wrapped package, “I’d come to the party, but I’ve got plans.”
“No worries–don’t be feeling too sorry for yourself. You always fight hard.”
“You know it,” he said, with a wink, and then left. At least he had the courtesy to lose with dignity. Maybe I actually will follow through on that recommendation in the future–it’ll be dull without him around, in a way. I put the gift in my briefcase and forget about it, and leave to go get beers with the bosses to celebrate. I get home late, and only remember the gift when I see a bit of wrapping stuck in the hinge of the case. I open it up, and find a pack of cigars–nice ones, by the look and smell of them, but not a brand I recognize. Why not? I don’t smoke them often, but I deserve a treat, and I’m too wired to go to bed just yet.
Frank definitely has good taste in cigars–the first one is a pleasure to smoke. In fact, I feel more relaxed than I have in ages, and surprisingly horny too. I haul out my cock and start jacking off as I smoke, and I swear my cock seems…different. Longer, and…and with a bunch of skin hanging over the head. It feels good though, and I keep at it, feeling my head dull a bit. I take off my shirt and start tweaking a nipple, seeing…tattoos on both of my pecs. I don’t…have tattoos though, right? I blow a load all over my chest, and rub it into my skin, feeling gross as I do so, but it just…feels right. But now I have tah piss like a fuckin’ racehorse, ‘n I get up and head for the crapper–where I see a fuckin’ stranger in the gahd damn mirror, lookin’ out at me!
I look like a fuckin’ hick! I’m so fuckin’ pissed, ‘n I just has a feelin’ it’s gotta have somethin’ tha do with these cigars. I might not be able tah think too good, but ya gotta wake up pretty fuckin’ early tah git one past this cowboy! I find mah work phone ‘n text Frank, demandin’ answers, when I hears a knock on the door. I answer it, ‘n there’s Frank, and somebody’s with him. An old fuck, lookin’ like he just stepped off a pig farm, and…and fuck, he’s…real sexy like. He’s smokin’ a gar too, ‘n the fat fuck has me pressed to the wall in a moment, feedin’ me his fuckin’ smoke, rubbin’ mah tool, ‘n fuck, all I wanna do is taste ‘em.
“Sorry about this, Bishop, but…well, you’re the one who said I always fight dirty. Looks like that cigar of yours is almost done–how about we light another one for you?”
I know I shouldn’t, but fuck…Ah know Ah can’t help mahself.
“Won’t be much left of you after this one, I can promise you that. But don’t worry–this here’s my Uncle Eddie–owns a pig farm out in the heartland. He’s been needing a new boy, and I offered you up, in exchange for a bit of help with our family magic. He’s a mean fucker, and dirty son of a bitch, but I don’t think the new you is going to mind much. Everyone’s going to assume you cracked under the pressure, I suppose–well, at least I can take over for you, right? I’ll just let the two of you finish up here, and he’ll take you home in the morning. Have a nice, new life.”
Course, Ah didn’t hear too much a that–had mah face buried in mah…pa’s reekin’ pit, ‘fore he shoved me down ‘n gave me a right proper skullfuck. Now we’s in his truck, headin’ west–ain’t lookin back though. How can Ah, with mah face buried in Pa’s nasty crotch the whole way home?