I’ll Change for You (Part 7)

He looked up and down the sidewalk, planning on following Herman and making him accept the ride he’d offered, but it was no worry, really. After all, he’d just find him in his office later–watching the younger professor eat his lunch today…he’d decided what his next step was going to be. He drove back to class in his luxury sedan and rode the elevator up to his own office. No longer an adjunct professor, he was a fully tenured professor. He taught a seminar that afternoon, and had a few productive meetings with some of his teaching assistants and graduate students. Herman was never far from his mind, however, and he hadn’t seen the object of his interest return to the office after lunch. He was, in fact, a bit worried that he’d missed him, or worse, scared him off by being a bit too forward. Still, it was clear that the man had enjoyed himself–as had Burt. The pendant…it was getting closer, and he took a moment to examine it while he was alone.

The light was brighter now–quite a bit brighter in fact–but somehow he knew it wasn’t finished with them yet. It was nearly four by the time Herman tried to slip past his door to his own office, but Burt saw him, and called out, “Herman! A moment please?”

Sheepishly, Herman stepped back and into the office, Burt smiling kindly at him. “What is it, sir?”

Sir. That caught him off guard, but Burt very much enjoyed the sound of it. “I was wondering, Herman, if you had any plans this evening.”

“Oh, uh…I just have some work to get done, is all.”

“I’d like you to join me for dinner this evening, at my home. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

He could see the conflict in Herman’s eyes. He…knew it was inappropriate, what the two of them had engaged in at lunch, and yet nothing had even happened. But dinner? At Burt’s home? The two of them alone? “I…I don’t know if that would be appropriate…”

Burt smiled, “I assure you, Herman,” he said as he hauled himself up from his chair, “it can be entirely appropriate if you so desire. Just two colleagues having a nice meal, and nothing more,” he walked over to where Herman was standing and shut the door, sealing them in the office, “But perhaps you’d like something more than appropriate?” Before Herman could object, Burt pressed him to the wall, firmly yet gently, and began kissing him, tasting a bit of their sweet dessert still on his breath. Herman squirmed a moment, but relented, kissing him back, hungrily. Burt, the fantasy from the bathroom stall returning to him vividly, pressed Herman down on the shoulder, and felt him collapse down onto his knees in front of him, and the professor rubbed and kissed at his suited gut with one hand, while the other was openly groping himself. He…desperately wanted to go further, but not yet–he had to…wait. Burt pulled away, smoothing down his shirt, which had a few wet spots from where Herman had licked him. On his knees, he looked…horrified by what he’d just done, and yet he couldn’t hide his arousal–not from Burt. “Dinner this evening.” he said. “I won’t take no for an answer. Six sharp.”

“Y-Yes sir…” Herman said, blushing a bit at that formality.

“Good boy,” Burt said, the word slipping out without much thought, and he saw Herman’s eyes go wide, and he slipped out of the office, the tent apparent in the front of his slacks. Still–that didn’t bother him really. So what if someone saw it? He felt so confident and self-assured, it was a feeling he had never really known before, but then again, as a young man, it was difficult to gain this sort of confidence after years of living. Burt went back down to his sedan and climbed in–he had a couple of hours until dinner at least–and he realized he didn’t actually have dinner planned out at all! There was a moment of panic, but it was washed away by something else, a sense that everything was going to be just fine–all he needed to do, was trust that everything was going according to the amulet’s plan. He drove home, to a sizable house not too far from campus, parked and went inside. His hard on hadn’t diminished at all, since he’d left Herman’s office–it was clear that it was time for another step closer to who he needed to be, for Herman’s sake.

He went into his study and sat down at his desk, already thinking of Herman, thinking of him on his knees there, in the office–no! No, not, in the office, here. Here in his home, right there in the middle of the room on his knees, and naked. There was…a smell in the room, but it was difficult for Burt to place right away, until he felt the thing in his hand–the hand not presently stroking his cock. It was…his pipe. One of his many pipes. He slid the stem into his mouth and took a draw, the smoke filling his mouth, and he stood up in his mind, crossing to where Herman was, and blowing the smoke into his face, covering him with it, while the boy moaned in lust.

“What do you want, boy?”

“Please sir–please fuck me.”

He thought he was naked–but no. Burt looked down and saw that he was wearing a set of leather clothing, perfectly tailored to fit his even wider frame. His cock had no problem responding, and his massive gut couldn’t hide the ten inch member, either. He ordered Herman into position, and just the sight of his plugged hole was enough to drive Burt over the edge. He grabbed at a handkerchief he kept on his desk for just such an event, and carefully caught his cum in it. A gift for Herman later, perhaps. He heaved a sigh, and looked around at his study, surprised to discover it was…larger than then he’d entered it a few minutes earlier, and the walls lined with several racks of pipes, along with a full sized humidor, should he be more in the mood for a cigar. He leaned back in his chair, his gut shifting around him, though whether it was more a gut, or had begun to sag too far, was a different question. In any case, it felt wonderful, and he stroked it idly, excited for dinner with Herman, and wondering how Jules was coming along with the preparations.

Digital Manipulation (Part 4)

Outside the simulation, Trax watched the progress he’d made breaching Perrion’s sense of superiority, and he could see his mind struggling with the last of its cognitive dissonance, as the program rooted out the remaining memories of Perrion’s old life as a powerful executive at one of the world’s great tech companies, and replaced them all with a new life as a submissive, obedient laborer, his entire life controlled by his new Boss, both inside and outside of work. Now, however, they were beyond the scope of Perrion’s old memories, and the program prompted him for a new simulation. He figured it would be good to solidify Perrion’s new, submissive instincts, and decided the best way to do that would be to ensure Perrion would want to submit to every man he came across, and not just his new Boss. He spliced in another simulation, and set it running, and then grabbed his own VR equipment, and got ready to jack in. He was tired of sitting on the sidelines–he wanted a taste of his revenge too.

“You paying attention?” Boss said, slapping Perrion upside the head, jolting him out of…wherever his mind had been, “Come on then, faggot, we don’t want to keep the boys waiting at the bar, do we?”

Perrion didn’t know what Boss was talking about. Everything about this seemed wrong, everything about this entire day had gone horribly wrong somewhere along the line, but he had no idea. It felt…like a dream, and yet, he knew it wasn’t one. This was just his life–wasn’t it? He nodded to Boss, and followed along behind him as they walked the busy streets to the bar. He…knew he shouldn’t know these streets, and at first, they seemed…fake, somehow. The people passing didn’t have clear faces that he could remember, half the shops didn’t have names, but that didn’t matter–what mattered was that he did what Boss told him to do. That’s what should really matter most to him.

He followed along, and as they went the places seemed to gain a new life, almost like he was remembering them all anew as he passed them by, his mind filling in all of the blanks it seemed to have with memories of the two of them walking this same path almost every night after work together…but where they ended up, he couldn’t remember for the life of him. Thankfully, Boss knew exactly where they were going– they ended up in a seedy district, full of body mod chop shops, niche pharmacies mixing new drugs the laws hadn’t caught up with yet, and plenty of brothels, though the whores outside all seemed to be…men.

Perrion found himself staring at them as he passed by, and he could imagine having sex with all of them, but in his mind’s eye, everything he envisioned himself servicing them, doing whatever they demanded from him, and when they were finished, Perrion knew he would always have to pay them extra for dealing with a loser like him. He was a loser. A submissive loser, whose purpose in life was to serve men, first and foremost.

Boss took them up the steps of a bar, one Perrion didn’t remember until they had stepped inside, and then, once he recognized it, he couldn’t imagine how he might have ever forgotten it. They headed for a large table at the back, where two of Boss’s friends were already seated, holocards shuffling themselves on the table…but Perrion didn’t take a seat with them. Without even needing to be told, he crawled under the table and made himself available for whatever the men might need–a blowjob, drinking a load of piss for them so they didn’t have to get up from the game, eating the ash off the end of a cigar, licking their dirty boots and dirtier feet clean.

Above him, the men chatted like all of this was normal, as they all got drunker and drunker, and the game grew rowdier and rowdier. At last, they all called it a night, and Perrion relaxed for a moment, exhausted…but there was something else he was forgetting…wasn’t there.

“Alright Trax, you won the pot, and the whore for the night,” Boss said, “Make sure you treat him the way he deserves to be treated, right?”

“Heh, Boss, you don’t have to worry about that, trust me.”

Trax–that name should mean something to him, it did mean something, but as soon as he summoned the memory, whatever it might have been, it disappeared into the ether. No–he did know Trax though, and when the meaty hand reached under the table, grabbed his arm, and hauled him out, nearly dislocating his shoulder in the process, he found himself suspended in the air by the massive cyborg himself.

Trax had always been a fan of the chop shops around here–no one knew how much metal he had, but it was substantial, enough that he probably should have registered himself as a AI risk, but Trax wasn’t one for rules. He grinned at Perrion, his titanium teeth glinting in the barlight. “I love a good piece of meat to fuck up on occasion.”

“Just make sure it can work tomorrow,” Boss said.

“Fine, fine,” Trax said, and dragged Perrion out of the bar and to his apartment nearby, where he proceeded to ravage his holes with collection of metal cocks, none of them shorter than a foot in length. He seemed…especially rough tonight, and was taking great pleasure in listening to Perrion scream with each new cock he used on him. The night lasted an impossibly long time, which wasn’t helped by the fact that Trax’s stamina, as a cyborg, was substantial. Eventually, he did pass out into a black nothing with a hint of static.

Trax kicked out the program, exhilarated. This was working better than he’d ever imagined, but it was time for a rest. Still, he loaded up the next simulation he wanted to run on Perrion, so it would be ready tomorrow, when he woke up. After all, he’d done a good number on Perrion’s mind, but maybe it was time to adjust some of his habits.

What sort of lifestyle does Trax want to cultivate in Perrion?

  1. Train him to be a shameless, exhibitionist pervert.
  2. Make him an empty headed muscle brute.
  3. Make him a drug addicted junkie pig.

Here’s the public twitter poll!

Here’s the supporter only Patreon Poll!

Digital Manipulation Poll #3 Results

First, the public twitter poll with 36 votes:

  1. To the bar with Boss – 12 votes (33%)
  2. Home to Master – 10 votes (28%)
  3. Gimp at a sex club – 14 votes (39%)

Second, the patron only poll with 30 votes:

  1. To the bar with Boss – 19 votes (63%)
  2. Home to Master – 7 votes (23%)
  3. Gimp at a sex club – 4 votes (13%)

And the final result with all 66 votes:

  1. To the bar with Boss – 31 votes (47%)
  2. Home to Master – 17 votes (26%)
  3. Gimp at a sex club – 18 votes (27%)

Looks like Perrion is going to have a fun night with Boss and his friends at a bar after work!

I’ll Change for You (Part 6)

Was it an invitation? It didn’t quite sound like one, somehow, as he said it. Herman got his coat, and the two of them went down and decided to go to a quiet restaurant a few blocks away from town, one where the students weren’t usually found crowding up the place. Burt found himself ordering several appetizers, and when they arrived, he happily tucked it, chatting with Herman, but noticing that his fellow professor seemed rather…preoccupied. “Come on now, Herman–feel free to tuck in,” he said, and started foisting food on him. Herman was…reluctant, but Burt almost enjoyed that aspect, bringing him around slowly, encouraging him to eat more than he was planning on. When it came time to order entrees, and Herman ordered something small for himself, Burt overrode him, ordered him steak and potatoes, and Herman went along with it.

More than once, Burt asked himself what he was doing. This seemed…so unlike him. Wouldn’t this be…irritating to Herman, having some man bossing him around, ordering food for him, and the like? But Herman didn’t seem annoyed–if anything, he appeared a bit embarrassed–or was he aroused? They were sitting at a table, and before their food came, Burt moved over to a seat beside him, allegedly because the restaurant was a loud–even though they’d had no trouble hearing one another up to that point. He slid a hand over onto Herman’s thigh, and then slid it down the inside of his thigh. Herman opened his legs slightly, enough to let Burt grope him gently through his slacks, while the two of them carried on discussing their classes and latest research, the only sign anything odd was happening at all was the flush of red in Herman’s cheeks.

He did like it. He liked all of it. Burt was certainly enjoying himself as well, his own cock bulging in his slacks, thinking again about that fantasy, about…ordering this older man around, forcing him to submit and bending him to his own will. The waitress returned with their food, and Herman tried to pull himself away from Burt’s groping hand, but he refused to remove it, the young woman not even noticing where Burt’s hand happened to be, as she set their plates down. Only once she’d left, did Burt remove his hand, pick up his silverware, and start eating, encouraging Herman to do the same. He would, on occasion, check to see how Herman was responding, and as far as he could tell the man’s cock didn’t lower once–and neither did Burt’s, in fact. Still, he kept it respectable. If any students had walked in, all they would have seen were two professors out to lunch.

Herman finished his plate, and Burt ordered dessert for them both. He looked a bit…full, but didn’t object. When the single dessert to share appeared, Burt insisted Herman eat most of it, and more than once fed him bites off his own fork. When they were finished, Burt picked up the check, and then they left, and went back to campus. Burt offered him a ride, since they’d driven over together, but Herman insisted that he’d rather walk. Burt tried to insist, but Herman said he had another errand to run on the way, and then he was gone down the sidewalk, leaving Burt horny and frustrated. He walked to his car, and sensed that the horniness he was feeling was a sign of the amulet building up in power again, and so he slipped his cock free of his slacks, found a few spare napkins to catch the mess, and started masturbating, thinking about how he should have been more insisting, and gotten Herman into his car with him.

How, once he was there in the passenger seat, how he could have rubbed his belly gently, feeling how…tight it was, after their meal, taking out his own cock, and then Herman’s, suggesting one last meal to top off his dinner, Herman licking his lips and leaning over, sucking on his cock under the steering wheel, gently and sweetly, until Burt filled his mouth with his cum. He shot as he reached orgasm in the fantasy, huffing and puffing slightly, his gut pushing out a bit further, but it was the hands on the steering wheel that he noticed first.

They looked…old. Weathered and wrinkled, with a few age spots on them. They ached slightly as well, more than they should have. He squinted at them, wondering why he was having such a difficult time picking out the details of them, until he felt the glasses in his breast pocket, pulled them free and put them on, and the world grew perfectly clear. He…he hadn’t needed glasses before, had he? No–perhaps his vision had been slightly blurred, but when he took them off again, he couldn’t even read the sign of the restaurant across the parking lot. He put them back on, feeling them rest in their usual, well worn spot on the bridge of his nose, and he reached over and turned the rearview mirror towards him.

White–his hair was…white, or at least mostly grey. There were a few streaks of color throughout, but he looked to be closer to fifty at this point, and maybe even slightly older than that. He had crows feet at the corners if his eyes, a wrinkled brow, and jowls hidden slightly by his trimmed beard. He was still dressed in a suit, but this one felt…more luxurious, somehow. Still, that wasn’t too surprising, he prefered expensive clothes, after all, custom tailored to his…particular physique. A man of his girth simply couldn’t find clothes off the rack that would fit correctly, not at five foot four and over 350 pounds.

I’ll Change for You (Part 5)

He slipped away and went to the bathroom, among the throngs of students passing from class to class, but it was clear that this hard-on wasn’t going away–if anything, it was intensifying. The sensation was the same one he’d had in his dorm room the day before, when the necklace had changed him. Did that mean it was happening again? But why now? He hadn’t seen, or even really thought about Herman all day long! However, as he did that, his arousal intensified, and he found Herman centered in his thoughts, thought about them together, pressing their hairy guts together, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and forcing Herman to bend down to kiss him…

No–this wasn’t right. This fantasy felt strange, just like the last one had. He was himself, but he was also someone else–and he reached down his shirt to get the necklace off of him, but stopped. No–no, he needed to just let this happen. He had to trust that this was the right thing to do, that whoever that strange old man had been, he was doing this to help him. Besides…it did feel good, didn’t it? He pushed Herman up against a wall, in his fantasy, pinning him there, feeling his shudder with excitement, one hand up on Herman’s shoulder, pressing him down, feeling him collapse, slowly, under his guidance. He was on his knees now, worshiping Burt’s hefty gut, licking it, running his tongue through the hairy surface, and Burt gave a few huffing pants and shot his load inside one of the stalls, the cum splattering against one of the partitions and sliding down as he collected himself.

Did he…change again? Burt didn’t feel different, necessarily, but he also felt a bit out of sorts, all the same. He pulled up his khaki dress pants, tucked in his shirt and adjusted his tie–and then took a moment to wipe up his cumshot with some toilet paper and flush it. It was, perhaps, kind of sexy somehow, but best not to leave any evidence where, heaven forbid, a student might find it. Satisfied, he stepped out of the stall and went to the sinks to wash his hands, but when he saw himself in the mirror he stopped short, jaw agape at the sight of himself.

He most certainly had changed–and rather substantially at that. He was even larger than he’d been before–probably another fifty pounds heavier, and a few inches shorter which didn’t help his girth much. Still, that wasn’t the most apparent shift–it was his hair, that he noticed first. It was receding several inches now, and had quite a bit of grey streaked through it. The beard he had was fuller as well, a touch longer but well manicured, but had just as much early grey as his hair did. He looked like a man in his late thirties, or perhaps even his early forties. Still…it suited him, as did the clothes he was wearing. He’d dressed in his usual casual dress for class as a TA this morning, but what he was wearing now was closer to a suit–dress pants, a button down shirt, tie, and jacket. He looked…authoritative and distinguished, and even if the rest of the changes had him a bit uneasy, he found himself enjoying it, in some twisted fashion. The necklace was still resting outside his shirt, and he considered taking it off–but didn’t. He tucked it back in, next to his hairy chest. Whatever this magic was, it was clear that it was by no means finished. He was going to see this through, whatever it was, and if he needed to change for Herman to love him…then so be it. He would be whoever Herman needed him to be–whoever he wanted him to be, if it meant he would love him.

Memories were slowly falling into place, as he became more comfortable with his appearance. He was older now–forty-three, to be precise–and an newish professor within Herman’s department, not yet with tenure, but certainly heading in that direction. It was, he realized, about time for lunch–and with that light breakfast earlier, he was famished! He left the bathroom and headed for his office, planning on picking up a bit of work to pass the lunch hour with, when he saw that Herman’s door was open, and he was sitting at his desk. The amulet–it wanted him to do something, but he wasn’t quite sure what. Not…not what he’d seen in that fantasy, no, he realized now that as much as he might want that, it was too…forward for someone of Herman’s sensibilities, especially here at the school. He needed to take it a bit slower, lure him in–and then he’d get what he wanted, soon enough.

“Care to grab some lunch, Herman?” Burt asked, surprised, and at the same time, pleased by his deeper voice.

The professor looked up when Burt spoke, and he saw in Herman’s eyes something he’d been desperate to see for weeks on end–Herman wanted him. Herman wanted him, and Burt knew it, and Herman knew that Burt knew it, but neither of them had yet made a move beyond a cordial friendship. “Oh, uh sure! I can come along, I suppose. I’m not that hungry though.”

“Nonsense,” Burt said, “every man needs three big meals a day!” he laughed, slapping his gut, noticing how Herman’s eyes were locked on it, forcing him to tear them away after a moment. “Or you can always just watch me eat, I suppose.”